Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Jamieson
Living in the same house with her wasn’t going to be easy.
No matter what happened between us and how angry I was, she was still one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the sex we’d had.
What I wouldn’t give to go into her bedroom, throw her on the bed, and fuck the life out of her.
But I couldn’t. Things between us were different now.
Once this got out at the hospital, my sex life would go to shit.
What the fuck was I going to do? I just had to keep telling myself that it was only for six months, but it felt like more of a life sentence.
Grace was in her room, and I was headed to bed.
It was late, and I was sure she was sound asleep.
As I passed by her bedroom, I heard her talking.
Her light was off, so I slowly opened the door to check on her.
I found her standing in the corner of the room, in the pitch dark, repeating the same thing over and over again.
“Time of death,” she spoke.
“Time of death.”
“Time of death.”
I turned on the light in the hallway and stepped inside the room. Walking over to her, I placed my hand on her shoulder.
“Grace.”
“Time of death,” she spoke as she looked at me.
I took hold of her arm and walked her over to the bed.
“Get back into bed,” I spoke as I covered her with the sheet.
She rolled over on her side and tucked her hands underneath the pillow. I walked out of the room, and before shutting the door, I looked at her one last time. What was going on in that head of hers?
The next morning, I walked downstairs, and she was already up and had the coffee made.
“Good morning,” I spoke.
“Good morning. I was just leaving.”
“How did you sleep?” I asked.
“Pretty good. That bed is really comfortable.” She lightly smiled.
“No nightmares or dreams?”
“Why are you asking?”
“It’s just that I was on my way to bed and heard you talking. I opened your door to check on you, and you were standing in the corner of the bedroom repeating ‘time of death.’ Last night wasn’t the first time I heard you say that in your sleep.”
“Oh. Well, if I was, I don’t remember. I have to go. I don’t want to be late.” She grabbed her purse.
When I arrived at the hospital, I went straight to my research room. I didn’t have any surgeries scheduled for today, so I figured I’d do some research on the electrode implants while it was quiet.
“Is it official?” Renata asked as she walked in. “Is your marriage annulled?”
“Good morning to you too, Renata. No. It is not annulled.” I sighed.
“Why not? What happened now?”
“You’re going to love this. You better have a seat.” I gestured with my hand. “The judge ordered Grace to move into my beach house for six months. She basically said it was our punishment for being so reckless and mocking the sacrament of marriage.”
Renata held back a laugh until she couldn’t anymore.
“You’re kidding. So now you and Grace are living together? At your house?”
“Yep.”
“And she’s still your wife?”
“Yep.”
“This is karma in its highest form.” She laughed. “Well, not for that poor girl, but for you.”
“I’m glad you think it’s so funny. Don’t you have people to boss around? I’m trying to work here.”
“I’m going to go down and check on that poor girl and make sure she’s okay.”
“Renata, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Last night, I found Grace standing in the corner of her bedroom. She was sleeping but repeating the words ‘time of death’ repeatedly. Do you have any idea why? It isn’t the first time I’ve heard her say that in her sleep.”
She stared at me for a few moments with a look of hesitation.
“She calls time of death all the time. Maybe it bothers her.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” I spoke.
I continued with my research and then got on the phone and called the doctor in Switzerland.
Grace
I stood on the patio, stared out at the sand, and listened to the whispers of the ocean.
As I looked out, I saw my parents and me.
A memory before they died. It was a hot and sunny day, and we wanted to spend it at the beach.
My mom would set up three chairs with an umbrella large enough to shade us from the sun.
She would read, and my dad and I would play in the sand, build sandcastles, and go swimming in the ocean.
Not many people could say they had a perfect childhood, but mine was perfect until I turned ten.
“What are you doing?” Jamieson asked.
“Shit. You startled me.” I placed my hand over my heart.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I’m just taking in this beautiful view.”
“Did you eat yet?” he asked.
“No. I was thinking about making something.”
“Let’s order in. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Okay.”
He placed an order for Chinese food. While we were waiting for it to be delivered, I went upstairs to change into something more comfortable while Jamieson set the table. The food arrived, and I was a little nervous about what he had to talk to me about.
“I did some research on electrode implants and talked to a doctor in Switzerland. They did a trial but haven’t published it yet.
Ten patients, ten implants, and all ten failed.
The patients were still paralyzed. I’m sorry, Grace, but Justin’s L6 was crushed.
You saw the X-rays. I think you’re asking for the impossible here.
The implant won’t work, and I don’t want to get that kid’s hopes up. ”
“Nothing is impossible, Jamieson. Impossible is a word you, of all people, shouldn’t be using. You’re a brilliant neurosurgeon. You remove brain tumors that no other doctor in the world would touch. You’ve done the impossible. So how can you sit there and say that to me?”
“Because it’s a fact! And I will not give that boy hope when there isn’t any.”
“Figure it out, Jamieson. Take the research they’ve already done and figure it out. I know for a fact you’ve done deep brain stimulation for certain diseases.”
“That’s different, and you know it. Or maybe you don’t because you’re not a neurosurgeon.”
“Please, just try.”
“I can’t. I don’t have time anyway. I’m in the middle of something else.”
“Oh, that’s right, your schizophrenia research. Do you really think you’re going to find a cure for that? You have a better chance at helping someone walk. And what’s your obsession with it anyway? Do you know someone who is schizophrenic?”
“I’ve seen patients with it, and it’s a horrible way to live. If I can help them return to their normal lives, then I’m going to do it,” he spoke harshly.
“But yet you won’t try to help a sixteen-year-old kid who was crossing the street and was run down by an erratic driver walk again? You won’t try to help him return to his normal life? You know what, Jamieson? All this shit you’re doing for schizophrenia is nothing but a pipedream.”
“Get the hell out of my house!” he shouted as he flipped his plate of food over on the table, knocking over a glass as it hit the floor and shattered.
“I would if I could, but I can’t!” I shouted back.
He threw his napkin across the table and stormed out of the kitchen. I took in a long deep breath to try and calm my racing heart. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I knelt on the floor to clean up his damn mess, and my knee slipped on a wet spot, and my arm slid across the broken glass.
“Shit!” I yelled. “Damn it!” I held up my arm as blood profusely dripped from it.
I officially hated Dr. Jamieson Finn. I grabbed a towel and tightly wrapped it around my arm. I opened the front door to my car and grabbed my medical bag. When I stepped back inside the house, I saw Jamieson coming down the stairs.
“I thought maybe you left. What the hell happened?” he asked as he stared at the blood-soaked towel wrapped around my arm.
“Nothing. Leave me alone!”
I raced up the stairs and into the bathroom and locked the door. Taking a seat on the toilet, I opened my medical bag and took out my suture kit.
“Grace Harper, open up this door!” He pounded.
“I told you to leave me alone!”
“Too fucking bad. You’re hurt. Let me see.”
“No!”
“Grace, I’m warning you!”
“Warn all you want, Jamieson. I’m not afraid of you!”
Suddenly, the lock popped, and Jamieson opened the door.
“Oh my God. Will you please leave me alone?” I spoke.
“Let me see it,” he calmly spoke as he approached me.
“I can stitch it up myself. So please leave and let me get to it.”
He carefully took hold of my arm and examined the wound.
“You have a couple of small pieces of glass in there. I need to get them out before I stitch you up. Where did you get that medical bag?”
“My car.”
“You keep a fully stocked medical bag in your car?” The corners of his mouth curved upward.
“Yes. In case of an emergency. Like this one!” I cocked my head.
“Grace, I’m sorry. This happened to you because of me. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t apologize. I’m sorry for what I said. I should never have said that. This is my punishment for being mean.”
“It looks like you’ll need about four or five stitches. Do you want to do some tequila shots before I get started?” He grinned. “You seem nervous.”
“The only thing I’m nervous about is you not doing it perfectly and leaving me with a scar. I won’t leave a scar. So, hand over the sutures and let me stitch myself.”
“I’m not going to leave a scar. I can promise you that. Are you ready?”
“I’ll be watching you very carefully, Dr. Finn.” I narrowed my eye at him.
He removed the couple pieces of glass from my arm and then perfectly stitched it up.
“There. All done.”
“Thanks. You did good.” I smiled as I stared into his eyes. “I still hate you.”
“Yeah. Well, I hate you too.” He grinned.
He brought his hand up to my cheek and softly stroked it before his lips leaned into mine. His kiss was soft and sensual. After enjoying his warm lips for a moment, I pulled back, and he looked at me in confusion.
“I’m not having sex with you,” I spoke as I got up from the toilet seat.
“Grace?”
I stopped before walking out the door, my back still turned to him.
“You made it very clear that our relationship was to be kept on a professional level and that we would not be having sex again. You stitched me up, and we had a moment. We can’t go back.
Things have changed between us. We resent each other for what happened, and having sex isn’t going to change that.
When it’s all over, nothing will be different.
We will still resent each other,” I said.
“You’re right,” he spoke as he pushed past me, went to his room, and slammed the door shut.