Page 100 of Dr. Brandt

Fuck. I couldn’t think about that now.

I walked in and saw that Jessa, Ash, and Elena were hugging, laughing, and crying. And Warren was with Alex, Spencer, and Jim.

Wow, this bastard thinks he’s in the same league as my friends because he’s also a businessman? I thought. Maybe it was a childish response, but I was irritated that the fucker was anywhere near my friends after Jessa had decided to lean on him instead of me.

What a surprise. Her parents aren’t here. They hated me, which was fine with me, but I couldn’t understand why they were such cowards, running away every time I came around when we were dealing with something so vital. I had no headspace to consider them right now, though. I’d lost Jessa again, and I felt that acutely. They were probably part of the reason for that, and Warren was the other.

I still hadn’t a fucking clue where it’d spun out of control between Jessa and me. All I knew was that, even though she told me not to apologize to her or blame myself for Jackson’s freak accident, she sure as fuck made me feel like it was all my fault. Hell, if she trusted Warren so fucking much, why didn’t she have that useless prick perform our son’s lifesaving surgery?

I rubbed my forehead and removed my surgical cap, forcing myself to get away from these stupid feelings, being jealous and acting like a victim.

“You okay, Doc?” Warren asked.

I straightened up. I wasn’t about to engage this fucker in a conversation while feeling how I did, especially when the guy’s stupid cocky expression made me want to bitch slap him.

“He just performed surgery on his son,” Spencer Monroe said, looking at Warren as if he’d said the stupidest thing possible. One thing about Spencer, he was always the biggest dick in any room, and if Warren thought he was going to take a jab at me, Spencer would make him look a fool with no help from me.

“Yeah, well, he looks a bit exhausted. I was simply just asking—” Warren started to defend himself.

“That’s a stupid fucking question for a surgeon who just saved a child’s life by performing actual brain surgery,” Spencer said, not letting up.

Spencer could sniff out a weasel from the deepest underground burrow, and he had no qualms about putting an asshole in his place.

“It’s all good,” I said, feeling the temperature of the room rise. I looked at Jessa. “As you were informed, Jacks is in recovery. I hope you’ll forgive me for not joining my team earlier to fill you in about surgery, but I wanted to see that our son was settled in his recovery room and the ICU staff were brought up to speed with my specific orders.”

To my shock, Jessa crossed the room and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist. “Thank you, Cameron. Thank you for taking care of him,” she sniffed, and her hug grew tighter.

I was afraid to hug her back or show any emotion because I was scared to death that this would never happen again. I had no idea where she and I were, but emotions ran high after surgeries, and the gratitude that was born from successful surgery made them run even higher. So, whatever affection Jessa was giving me now, chances were that it came more as a flood of relief than a desire to be close to me.

I hugged her back, but I was rigid. My guard was up, no doubt, but I would be a fool if I didn’t protect myself emotionally.

I stepped back a little and smiled into her tear-filled eyes. “I’m here to take you to him, but you need to understand that the real work will begin in recovery. I believe that he will wake up soon, and when he does, I need you to keep a positive outlook for him.”

“The neuropsychologist was here and spoke about that too, what to expect and everything.” Jessa looked back at Elena, who was also a neuropsychologist, and then back at me, “Elena’s said she would be there for both of us too, Cam.”

“Thank you, Laney,” I said, smiling at Collin’s wife, who was always the freaking light in the darkness due to her expertise in matters of the brain and heart. “So, you’re ready to go see him?” I asked Jessa with an excited smile.

“I won’t leave his side.”

I grinned. “You haven’t left his side since all of this happened. I’m shocked you allowed him in my care for the surgery.”

She chuckled, “Take me to him. I might lose my mind if he wakes up before I get to him.

Jacks woke up later that night while Jessa sat next to him, holding his hand and doing a damn fine job of not crying or appearing to be stressed—all the emotions we didn’t want around him.

I was in and out, ensuring that Jacks responded well to waking up. It was my expectation that he would not be able to speak when he woke up, which was common after disconnecting the left hemisphere of his brain. The right side of his body was not responding as it would have with the left hemisphere doing that job, but there was still some good news.

Jackson’s troubled hemisphere did not require me to remove it entirely; because of that, his brain was still intact, and I was able to disconnect the pathways for this hemisphere to send signals to the body that would result in a seizure. Even so, I would keep him on a mild epilepsy medication for at least two years to ensure we’d successfully silenced the brain.

It was now up to the right hemisphere to do the job of the left. At his age, with his brain nearly fully developed, there was concern that his right hemisphere would not learn, but I knew my son would fight back. And with grueling physical and mental work, I knew we would all be impressed with his comeback.

“You’ve slept for long enough, kid,” I said, seeing that the left portion of Jackson’s face pulled up, but the right did nothing. “I’ll give you a day or so of rest before we turn this into a spring training situation.”

I watched him, as I’d been doing since he woke up, and my mind went straight to helping him with a speedy recovery. He was a lot like me, competitive and determined. Things needed to be a challenge and move fast. It’s how I played sports, how I drove myself straight into this career, and what I wanted to see in him. And I did.

“You’ve got no response to that?” I said, trying to work him up a little as I saw a certain glimmer in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re just going to lay around in bed all day.”

There’s my boy, I thought, seeing him become somewhat irritated.

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