Page 46 of Operation Annulment
“Jess, what are you doing here?”
She struggles to smile. “I’m having trouble keeping anything down, so I came in for fluids.”
“Are you sick with a bug? Or is this related to the headaches you were having?”
She nods. “It’s the headaches. I had an MRI done on my brain, and they found lesions.”
She says it as though it’s nothing more than a bump or bruise. I shouldn’t care—she broke my fucking heart—but I’m suddenly that twenty-two-year-old kid again when it comes to her.
I sit down in the chair next to hers. “Are they looking at surgery? Or chemo? What’s going on? Who’s your surgeon? I can see if there are some strings I could pull.”
She smiles sadly. “Nate, I’m fine. We’re not together anymore. Go home. I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”
I look down at my shoes, spinning my wedding band as I try to think of something. She looks at it, and I swear, her face pales even more. “I uh—I got married over the weekend, Jess.”
Her smile disappears, and she stiffens slightly. “Wow, congratulations. I guess I always knew it would happen one day. I just convinced myself that it would be a long time from now.”
“I’m sorry?—”
She cuts me off. “Why are you sorry, Nate? You don’t owe me an explanation. I wasn’t any good for you. I just got so preoccupied with the next best thing I missed what was right in front of me the wholetime. What is it they say—hindsight is 20/20? I’m sorry for what I put you through while you were trying to make a better life for us.”
I can’t sit here and listen to this shit. Shit, she should’ve said three years ago. I stand up and walk back through the doors again, stopping one of the nurses.
“You’ve got a patient out there—Jess Davis. I just wanted to see if we could get her into a room and start an IV.”
She consults her clipboard. “I was just going to get her, Dr. Davis. Is she your patient?”
I shake my head. “No, just someone I knew.”
I decide to leave the building through the side door. I can’t go back out there and see her like that. She never once apologized for anything in our marriage—it was always someone else’s fault. She’s fucking with my head again, and I can’t be a part of it.
I have Kate to think about now.
My wife.
The woman who lied to me about her father. Why would she keep that from me?
And what kind of a man fakes his death?
twenty
COMMANDMENT #21: THOU SHALT CHOOSE DATES THAT REQUIRE LITTLE CONVERSATION
Nate
Ipull into the driveway next to my brother’s truck. He’s known for dropping by unannounced, and it doesn’t hit me until I park in the garage that Kate’s here now, too.
Fuck.
I didn’t exactly reach out to alert my family that I was married. I take a deep breath and open the door.
“Well, well. If it isn’t my big brother?” Garrett leans back in one of the dining room chairs, an empty plate in front of him. And in typical Garrett fashion, he’s chewing on the end of a toothpick.
We share many of the same features and were often mistaken for twins when we were younger. Then I got tattoos and grew out my facial hair while he remained clean-cut and tattoo-free.
“Garrett, I didn’t know you would be stopping by tonight.”
He winks at me. “Your lovely bride was home and invited me to stay for dinner. We tried to wait for you—” he pats his stomach, “but it was impossible to resist.”
