“Okay.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, his cool demeanor cracking just slightly in front of my eyes. “Okay. Let’s just sit the fuck down for a second.” It was the first time I’d heard him curse. “And stop saying you need to leave. You’re not going anywhere.”
I nodded as much as I could with my head tilted back, because what else could I have done? I didn’t want to interrupt him at his office, but I didn’t have it in me to leave either. As I turned around to head back for the chairs, he stopped me with one hand on my arm and opened the office door again with the other one.
“Cynthia, call George and tell him I won’t make it. Send him the junior associate I worked with—she should have the details he needs. I’ll get back to him later.”
“Jack,” I broke in as he closed the door without even waiting to hear Cynthia’s answer. “I don’t want to keep you from your work.”
“What did I just tell you?” He pulled me toward the couch that was next to the floor-to-ceiling windows and sat right next to me. He was still holding the Kleenex box in his hand. I didn’t know why I focused on that so much, but him holding that box along with the intense and slightly scary expression on his face while wearing one of his many expensive suits would always be a good memory for me after this whole marriage business was over.
“I don’t think I know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Rely on someone. Lean on someone. I feel like I’m messing it up.”
“I want to be that person to you, Rose. I want to be the person you lean on. You and I, we’re the same. We have no one but each other. You’ll lean on me and I’ll do the same. We’ll learn how. We’re in this together.”
I was speechless.
“Now tell me what the hell a cerebro…”
“Cerebrospinal leak,” I finished for him.
“Whatever the hell it is. Tell me what needs to be done. How did it happen? When are you scheduled for the MRI and CT scan? Tell me everything, Rose.”
I managed to stop the tears, but my nose was still leaking. “Can you give me another tissue, please?”
He pulled another one out and handed it to me. I mumbled a thank you and quickly held it under my nose as I pushed the used one into my bag. There were more than a few like it in there already. He turned his body so he was sitting on the edge of the leather couch, his knee pushing at the side of my thigh, and then he finally placed the box on the glass square table in front of us. Sniffling, I wiped my nose and held it in place.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I’m fine—that’s the weird thing.”
“Okay. Now tell me everything he said, from the beginning.”
“So, I went in and told him what was happening, and he just looked into my nose and then my throat because I said I had a sore throat a week or so ago, but now I think that’s totally unrelated. Then he asked me if I’ve been in an accident recently or had any kind of surgery, a head trauma, a hard hit to the head. I haven’t, and I told him that. Then he asked about the taste of the liquid and I told him I had no idea because I didn’t taste it, obviously. I was fine at the doctor’s office so I couldn’t show him, but I told him it especially starts dripping whenever I lean down for too long, look down, bend down, or when I sleep on my face at night—which is every night.”
“Did he tell you what it is exactly? Explain cerebrospinal leak to me.”
I blew out a breath and swallowed. “He wouldn’t tell me much, said he wanted to schedule an MRI and a CT scan right away to make sure, but I kept asking, and apparently the CSF—cerebrospinal fluid—leak occurs when there is a hole or tear in the membrane that surrounds and cushions the brain. Apparently it can be around the spinal cord too. Ah, anyway…so the fluid, just a clear liquid, in the membrane protecting the brain starts leaking through the nose. Since I didn’t have a head trauma, I don’t know how it happened.” My eyes started watering again. “And I feel so