Page 31 of The Pursuit of Her Happiness

“Ok. I’m gonna get your discharge papers signed, and the nurse will be in soon to get you out of here. Your appointment information will be listed. Avoid caffeine and alcohol, rest, and take Tylenol for any headaches.”

“Thank you.” He nods, opens the door and walks out. He’s barely cleared the doorway before Polk is pushing his way in and rushing to my side.

“Quinn. What’s going on? Is everything ok? What did they find?” I don’t want to lie to him, but I can’t…not yet.

“Just going over concussion protocol. I should be going home soon.” He doesn’t look like he believes me, so before he can question, I ask, “How’s Ford? What caused the seizure?”

Polk sighs, sitting down in the chair, his hand holding mine tightly. “He has an arachnoid cyst. It’s pushing on the parts of his brain that affect personality and mood. He’s scheduled for day after tomorrow to have it drained since it’s causing seizures now.”

“Seizures? Like plural? More than one?”

“He’s had several since he was admitted. They told Madison that he’s probably had it for years, but it’s growing. Surgeon said he believes they can drain it completely, but they won’t know until they get in there. Worst case, they insert shunts to drain into his abdomen.”

“Is he awake?”

“In and out.”

“I want to see him.” Polk grits his teeth, his eyes drifting over my shoulder for a moment.

“Fine.”

I tug on his hand, and he obliges, moving close enough for me to kiss his cheek. “It’s cute you think you can control me.”

“Quinn, I have been scared out of my mind for the last 24 hours. They’ve run all kinds of tests on you, and no one would talk to me about anything! Even Joe was only given limited information.” He runs his hand over the top of his head roughly, then presses his forehead gently to mine. “I don’t want to go through that again.” My heart nearly stops beating at his words. How can we start something when I might not be functional for too much longer? He isn’t my nurse and never will be. I refuse to be a burden on him or anyone else.

“Perhaps…” I begin, forcing myself to breathe evenly. I sit back in the bed, putting space between us. “Maybe it would be best if we…take a break. There’s a lot going on and—”

“No.” He stands abruptly, dropping my hand to cage me in with his hands fisted on either side of my head. “You aren’t telling me everything. You have more than a concussion. I’ll let you have your time now, sort through whatever is going on, but I’m here. I’m with you. And ain’t nothing going to change that, not even you.”

“You can’t date me against my will,” I scoff. He smirks and I want to slap him and kiss him.

“Ain’t against your will, baby,” he purrs, dipping down to rub his nose against mine, then down my jaw, neck, nibbling on the thin flesh where my shoulder begins. “I’ve torn you down, piece by piece with the tip of my tongue, your clit throbbing between my teeth, your pussy gushing and begging for more. The touch of my fingers draws your body to the brink of madness, and you offer yourself up in supplication, thrusting your tits into the air, your hands clutching me close, the sound of your moans echoing in my soul.”

“Good Lord.” I squeak in surprise at Joe’s voice. Polk calmly looks over his shoulder at my ex-husband standing awkwardly in the doorway. “I’ve never…we’ve never…Quinn, date him or I might have to.” The tension between Polk and I snaps with Joe’s joke, and I relax back into the bed. That was…that was a lot.

“You ain’t my type.” Polk responds casually.

“You ain’t mine either, but fuck, did that sound hot.” Joe shakes his head, glancing at me. “I guess we’re well and truly done, huh?” I give him a sad smile and nod. “I don’t feel an ounce of jealousy. I’d call that growth. My therapist will be so happy when I tell her.” Joe chuckles as he walks to the other side of the bed. He takes my other hand in his and squeezes. “I love you, Quinn. I’m so fucking happy to see your eyes open. Can we do a quick FaceTime with the boys? I’m gonna pick them up and take them to my place for the night. If you need longer, let me know.”

“I’d like to see my boys.” Joe calls Marco’s phone and stands next to me so we’re both on the screen. My boys are beyond happy to see me and anxious for me to come home so I can cook them dinner. They groan when their father tells them they’re staying with him, bitching about take-out again. My soul settles seeing all three of them.

It's in this moment, them bickering over their favorite meals of mine, that I know I’ll figure this whole MS thing out, I’ll deal with it, like I’ve dealt with everything else thrown my way. I’m not willing to miss a single moment of my boys growing up. I look up at Polk as he jokes with my boys. He glances at me quickly, winking at me with a smirk. He’ll be by my side the whole ride.

I won’t be fighting alone. Never again if Polk and the Congressionals MC have anything to say about it.

Polk 17.

I’m typically a laid back guy. I deal with animals all day, then come home to the clubhouse and am surrounded by a different type of animal. Humans are beasts, I know this. And I’m a human, ergo, I’m a beast. I just didn’t know that until Quinn.

She’s going to be my ruin…and my salvation.

Quinn Palomeni is the definition of “strong, independent female”. And oddly enough, she hates that overused and incorrect descriptor. I’ve known since I met her that she’s got her shit handled. With three boys in tow, she’s organized chaos. And that’s just one of the many reasons I fell in love with her.

But she’s also as stubborn as Babe the Blue Ox. I feel for Paul Bunyan, he probably sighed a lot, and stared up at the sky wondering why, and said “What the fuck” more times than he could count. I’ve done all three for the last week and a half.

I told her I’m in, I’ve shown her I’m in, but she keeps shutting me out. She isn’t doing it maliciously, I know that for sure, but old habits die hard. She’s so used to taking care of everyone else, she doesn’t know how to let anyone take care of her.

I glance at her beside me and sigh. Again. Quinn smiles softly and rests her head on my shoulder. “He’s gonna be alright, Polk. He’ll be back to saying inappropriate jokes and spending time with the lobbyists before you know it.” I grunt and lean my head back to the wall behind us; the hospital waiting room is anuncomfortable place to hang out. She thinks I’m worried about Ford. And I am, but not nearly as much as I probably should be. I’m more focused on the stubborn woman next to me and figuring out how to get her to let me in.

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