her head. I remained in the waiting room, sleeping in a small, stiff chair, even knowing that Jude didn’t want to see me. He refused to even let me step foot in his hospital room.
I singlehandedly ruined his life, and now he wants nothing to do with me. I guess I understand his need for distance.
My mind flutters over every moment from the past weeks, each memory hurting more than the last.
Our first kiss standing in the dark, shadowy hallway of my house. Our first time together, against the picture window. Working together at my kitchen table. Exercising and making love in my living room. Jude painting my toenails red, before fucking me in my bed.
It’s funny how many years I spent with my ex, and yet, just a short time with Jude has replaced all of the special memories in my home. I am unable to open my eyes without being hit with a gut-wrenching reminders of our time together.
I’m mad at Jude for deserting me, but so hurt and guilty for what he is going through. I just want to be there for him. To ease his suffering in any way I can. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even want to see me. And I guess he has every right.
I snap out of my thoughts and find my friends staring across the table at me. Shit—they asked a question that went right over my head. “I-I’m sorry, I…”
Lexi gives me that sympathetic smile again. “We were just going over options in terms of flower suppliers but y’know what? We don’t have to do that right this minute.” She glances at the wall clock. “I’m meeting Diana for lunch in half an hour, anyway.”
“We can meet again sometime next week, if you’re feeling up to it.” Cannon closes his computer and rises from the table.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” I tell them, quickly gathering my things so I don’t have to come face to face with Jude’s mother.
Cannon squeezes my shoulder. He wants to say something but he holds back.
When he exits the room, Lexi gives me a hug. “I know you’re hurting, girlie. And he’s hurting, too. He’s just being too stubborn to see it now.”
“I just wish things were different,” I say as Lexi walks me toward the elevator. I glance down at the chipped nail polish on my toes and am flooded by thoughts of Jude and how he’d affectionately painted them weeks ago. “I wish I’d done things differently that night. I wish…”
The elevator doors open and Diana stands inside.
Fuck…
Jude’s mother slowly steps off the lift. Eyes on me, she gives Lexi a one-armed hug then affectionately strokes her daughter-in-law’s growing belly.
“Hello Iris…”
“Mrs. Kingston…” A small smile pushes through the megatons of guilt weighing on my heart.
The woman pauses and time seems to drag on forever. Then she steps forward and takes me into a hug. “It’s Diana, Dear. It’s still Diana.”
And that’s all it takes for me to dissolve completely. I’m a river of tears streaming onto the shoulder of Diana’s floral blouse. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry for what happened to Jude.”
She strokes my back. When she pulls away, she’s blinking back tears and clearing her throat. “This isn’t your fault, Iris.” She squeezes my shoulders. “You didn’t put him in that hospital bed. Kirk’s bad decisions and anger led to that. And the bastard will pay. But you don’t need to carry any of that guilt on your shoulders.”
In my heart, I wonder if Jude will ever see things that way.
47
Jude
I slip one shoe on, but don’t bother tying it. Simple tasks like that now require an expert level of skill.
“Ready?” Cannon asks, zipping up my duffle and handing me my new accessories for the next three to four weeks, a shiny new pair of crutches. These damn things are going to bruise the hell out of my sides. Again.
“I can’t stand to look at this room another second,” I mutter. I’m restless but exhausted, something I know all too well.
It’s been four days since my second anterior cruciate ligament reconstructive surgery. And they made me wait several long days before putting me on the operating table, which puts my hospital stay at…way too fucking long.
If I never step foot in here again, it’ll be too soon. The antiseptic smell, the never-ending beeping, and the barrage of nurses checking my blood pressure like I just had open heart surgery.
As I said…exhausting.
I position my crutches strategically against