Page 38 of Doctor Hot Mess

Lila’s setbackwasn’t something I expected to hear about today, especially after the progress she’d made. Stepping into Jonah’s condo, the familiar space pulls me in, reminding me how fragile recovery can be—and how easily boundaries, once crossed, can change everything.

I’m also reminded of the last time I was here. Two years ago. That night.

My steps falter, just for a second, as the memory rushes in—how we barely made it through the door before everything exploded between us. Hands tugging at clothes, mouths crashing together, the sheer heat of it overwhelming.

The tension that had simmered beneath the surface for years finally snapped the second we were alone. Unspoken boundaries shattered like glass.

The walls feel smaller now, like the air carries remnants of that night—laughter, touches, whispers I hadn’t thought about in months. Or maybe I had, but I’d pushed them down, pretending they didn’t matter.

It’s unsettling how vivid the memory is. How it doesn’t feel as distant as it should.

I shake it off, focusing on the present—on why I’m here. For Lila, I remind myself. Not for Jonah, not for unresolved feelings or long-buried mistakes. We’ve moved past that.

Still, as I move deeper into the condo, the pull of that night lingers in the corners of my mind, no matter how much I try to ignore it.

The space is quiet—like it’s caught in that late-afternoon lull where everything slows down. Jonah is waiting near the kitchen, holding a glass of water.

“She’s resting in the guest room,” he says, motioning toward the hallway. “I think the meds are helping her sleep a little better.”

“Good,” I say, setting the small bouquet of daisies I brought into a makeshift vase Jonah filled with water. "I hate to disturb her if she's finally resting. You can just let her know I came by."

"No, she demanded I let her know when you got here. She's looking forward to it more than the Oxy. Just stick your head in. It will be good for her."

“Hey, Harper,” I hear her call from the bedroom, her voice softer than usual. I walk up to see her in bed. “Nice of you to come check on me. You’re still Birmingham’s Number One Nurse.”

“You’re stuck with me, kid,” I reply with a smile, setting the daisies on her side table. “How are you feeling?”

She shrugs, wincing slightly at the movement. “Been better. Jonah’s playing nurse pretty well, though. He even made me tea earlier. Can you imagine?”

“Tea?” I glance at Jonah, who’s leaning against the wall in the hallway with a mock-offended expression. “What’s next? Knitting her a scarf?”

“Going to the yarn store today,” he quips. “I could probably pull it off.”

Lila laughs weakly, and the sound is enough to ease some of the tension in my chest. But her energy fades quickly. Her eyelids droop as she settles back against the cushions.

“I think that’s my cue,” she murmurs. “I’m gonna crash for a bit. Thank you so much for coming by. When these meds wear off, let's visit longer.”

"Absolutely. Get better so we can go for that jog."

Jonah steps forward, adjusting the blanket around her. “Rest up. Let me know if you need anything.”

She nods, her eyes already slipping closed. Jonah adjusts the blanket around her with quiet precision, checking the small pulse ox he placed on the tip of her finger.

The care in his movements isn’t performative; it’s second nature. Watching him like this, I can’t help but admire the level of sincere care he displays. It's another reminder that beneath all the bravado, Jonah takes care of the people who matter to him.

We walk back towards the front of the condo. Jonah leans against the counter, folding his arms. “Thanks for coming by. I think it helps her, knowing someone’s checking in. Even if she won’t admit it.”

I shrug, offering a small smile. “I wanted to make sure she’s okay. Thanks for letting me know."

“You hungry?” he asks, turning toward me. “Or… thirsty? I was thinking about a drink on the balcony. And I just so happen to have this charcuterie board I picked up at Swig & Swine on my way home. You in?”

The invitation catches me off guard, but I nod. “Sure. Why not?”

The crisp February air greets me as I step out onto Jonah’s balcony. The faint blush of dusk painting the Birmingham skyline in soft oranges and purples is stunning.

It’s still early, but the day’s light is already slipping away, leaving a cozy glow in its wake. Daylight savings is in just over a week, so we are on the cusp of later sunsets.

The view from the balcony is stunning. The warm light spills from the windows behind us, and the skyline stretches out with a mix of glowing city lights and shadowed rooftops.

---