Page 106 of Trust Me

“Call me Madeline, please, and sit. Ned’s taking an important call outside.”

I do as she says, sitting across from her as apprehension fills me.

“What happened?” she asks calmly.

“She ate pancakes that she thought were egg-free, but turns out the chef made a mistake,” I grumble.

“Idiot,” she mutters.

“The doctor said she’ll be fine. They ran a bunch of tests and want her to rest.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes, eyes shut tightly for a beat. “Thank you so much for saving my daughter.”

“Don’t thank me for that. It’s what needed to be done. I’d do it again, over and over,” I tell her, my leg throbbing at the strain from running today. I rub it, hoping to relieve the pain.

Sure, I work out and even skate from time to time, but that random high sprint run I did? Not ideal for the ligaments around my knee that have already been torn to shreds once.

“Your knee bothering you?” she asks, observing my every movement.

“I’ll be fine.”

“If it was torn, you’d be on the ground in a fetal position, so I’m going to assume it’s strained from the running. But if the pain doesn’t go away, go back to the hospital to get it looked at, okay?” Her doctor’s voice is on, sweet yet firm.

“Will do.” I nod, taking her in for the first time.

It strikes me then how oddly calm she is considering what happened.

“How are you so calm right now?” I ask, perplexed.

Madeline scoffs, shaking her head. “I’m not, not at all actually. Doctors are trained to hide their emotions because we can’t freak out. It would worry our patients. I guess sometimes I forget to turn it off.”

I nod, understanding what she means. “I’m sorry this happened,” I apologize, feeling like I failed her by letting her daughter end up here.

She turns to face me head-on now, a no-bullshit look on her face. “Elio, it’s not your fault. You didn’t make the pancakes, so let it go. She’s okay, and that’s what matters.”

I inhale a deep breath, doing my best to let her words seep in and rid me of the guilt I feel for this happening.

Ned comes bustling around the corner, into the lobby, where he stops in his tracks once he spots us. His eyes are red, and bags rest underneath them, not looking his best.

A sick part of me is happy to see it, knowing he still cares about Jasmine despite everything that happened.

He sits next to his wife, his eyes downcast as he takes a deep breath.

Madeline places her hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Ned, let’s go. Get on with it.”

This ought to be good. I hope.

“I’m sorry, Elio. I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me, and hitting you was way out of line, especially in front of our team. Even if what you did was wrong.”

Madeline coughs, and he sighs.

“But if you make my daughter happy, then I have no choice but to accept it because her happiness is all that matters.”

A wave of relief crashes through me. It’s not what I was expecting to hear, and I’m thankful for his acceptance because I know how much it’ll mean to Jasmine.

“If you break her heart, Mazzo, we’ll be having a different conversation. Got it?” he asks, his eyes boring into mine with a seriousness I’ve only seen on the ice.

“I won’t. I promise you that.”

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