Page 27 of Silver Fox's Twin Surprise

"Your room will be here, and so will I…" Mom was quiet. I felt like I was hurting her.

"And if I decide to stay with him? If he wants me and this baby?" I held my breath as I waited for her to respond. She took a few seconds, and I feared what she'd say because every woman wants her mother’s approval.

"Then I’ll be here and support you, Rose. No matter what. I know you didn’t plan this. I can't imagine how scared you are. If you just want to come home for a few days and rest, or if you don’t want to come at all, I want you to know I love you. And I'll be here for you, no matter what." The way she repeated that last line put me at ease.

This wasn't how I saw this conversation going, but it made me feel a bit more secure about things. If my mom was on my side, then it didn't matter in the long run whether Cole wanted or didn't want me. I knew I would get through it. My future was changed forever, anyway. A baby tended to do that. So if I had to pack up and move home, I'd just readjust my expectations and move on, no matter how difficult it would be.

I just wanted it to be easy. Except easy didn't seem to be in my future.

One thing was for sure. I did need to tell Cole. I'd have to make a plan to do that as soon as possible.

21

COLE

The whiskey was room temperature, just the way I liked it. I found that having a drink seemed to stop the worst of the tremors, which seemed to be a little worse lately, though I could've been imagining it. It wouldn't help me during surgery, anyway. No one wants a half-drunk surgeon operating on them.

And the beta blockers Dr. Ballard prescribed weren't helping, either. I'd been on them now for a few weeks, way long enough for them to kick in, but the stress of everything happening with the lawsuit was just counteracting any benefit they had. I knew stress levels were contributing to the tremors, but there was nothing I could do.

Ever since the insurance mitigator got involved and I hired a lawyer, I'd been useless. I'd taken way fewer surgeries and even used a few PTO days just to keep my head clear. I knew I was drinking more and avoiding Rose too, but my mood had gone from optimistic and hopeful to downright angry and depressed. I hated being railroaded like this and there was no easy fix.

I sulked, pouring myself another drink and staring out the back window at the rabbits hopping around the patch of clover under the shade tree. Life had been so simple just a few months ago. It was insane how quickly things changed and grew very dark. It felt like spring, when everything was bright and sunny one minute and two minutes later, the storm of the century could come along and destroy everything. That was what I was going through.

I sank onto a kitchen barstool and stared out the window blankly. Alcohol made my head swirl, and I found it easier to think while I was sitting. Juan had been encouraging me to let the lawyers fight it out, but I'd done my own bit of digging. To someone who had no computer background or ability to dissect files or programs, it appeared the hospital was right—that I had fucked things up badly.

But I knew what I saw. I was dead set that when I looked over those files, they never contained the specific information that would have made me feel cautious about the surgery. I tried to remind myself that the important thing was I knew I wasn't to blame, and the senator was still alive. Those were the top priorities, but they didn't matter if he still blamed me and the hospital wanted to make it my fault. I would still lose everything, even if my conscience was clear

The whiskey called to me, begging me to fill my glass again, but I paced myself. It was only four in the evening. Rose was supposed to come by tonight, but I wasn't in the mood. I knew how grumpy I was and I'd been pushing it away, hiding it from her. I didn't know if I could do that tonight. Wearing a mask when emotions were this heavy was next to impossible, and she didn't deserve my bad attitude.

I pulled my phone out and thought about calling her to cancel, but she told me she had something important to tell me, something she was excited about. I heard the tone of her voice, too—nervous happiness. I didn't know what it was she wanted to tell me, but I knew no matter what her good news was, I wouldn't be able to celebrate with her and I'd feel bad.

But I decided not to cancel anyway. Seeing her might very well be what I needed to get my mind off my own problem and think about someone else. Kate used to say that—that when I was feeling down, helping someone else was the way to get out of it. She was wise like that, and I never did understand that until she died. I was forced to go back to work far too quickly, and thinking of it as helping others was really what helped me move on.

The doorbell rang, and I sighed. I hated that I felt like going on autopilot and forcing my feelings down was an obligation, but I knew it was. I couldn't let Rose see me falling apart like this. I needed to be strong for her and I didn't want her asking questions. If she knew I was the reason the entire hospital was up in arms with a threat of job cuts, she'd never think of me the same way again.

Rose deserved someone to care for her, and I'd never be able to do that without a job. If the lawsuit didn’t get me, the tremors would, and I'd be no good to her at all. I refused to be a deadbeat sitting on a couch letting his partner earn the bread for the household. I just had to figure out how to fix this. Fast.

I stalked to the door trying to shove the monster into the closet of my mind, but the alcohol made it harder. When I pulled the door open, Rose looked concerned almost immediately.

"Come on in," I grunted, and my head swirled. I waited for her to walk in, but she paused only a few steps inside the doorway and looked up at me.

"Are you okay, Cole?"

My eyes were a bit blurry, the last glass of whiskey really catching up to me since I got up and moved around. I blinked hard and nodded a few times, and she splayed her hands on my chest, leaning in to kiss me.

"Are you drunk?" she asked, and when she lowered from her tiptoes back to flat feet, I scowled. I never meant to hide the fact that I'd been drinking, but her words sounded more like an accusation than a question and it annoyed me.

"So what if I am?" I hissed, and I pushed the door shut and turned back toward the kitchen. She stood there for a few minutes as if shocked by my words, and with my back to her, I winced at my own stupidity.

I wanted to keep this whole thing away from her to avoid stressing her out, and I was off to a horrible start.

"Sorry, yes. I'm a little stressed, so I'm drinking to help alleviate that. Do you want a glass?" I stopped by the island where my glass remained perched on the bar next to the stool I was just seated on, and I picked it up and turned to her.

She had a worried look on her face and shook her head, so I walked over to the liquor cabinet on the other side of the open-concept space and poured myself another glass. I overdid it. I knew I did, but I was too stressed to care. I just wanted this whiskey to knock me out until the stress of this event was over and I could go back to normal—if there even was a normal to go back to now.

"Cole, are you okay? Is there something wrong?" Rose's soft tone made me feel bad. I was clearly failing at hiding my emotions from her, and I knew she wanted to help. The thing was, she couldn’t, not even if I told her everything. She couldn't stop the tremors or clear my name, and my unloading this on her would only push her away from me, make her embarrassed to be seen with me, and drive a wedge between us. She shouldn’t have to carry my weight.

"I'm fine," I growled, and I picked up the glass and downed it in one swallow. The minute it was down my throat, I knew it was a bad idea. I was already feeling it and she'd just gotten here. The chances of my passing out were very high, and while that was what I wanted, I really didn't want it in front of her. It made me that much angrier at myself, and I scowled again.

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