Page 25 of Beneath Her Hands
“You did nothing wrong, and neither did she,” Rosalind said quickly. “I don’t know why she wasn’t wearing it, but this was an accident, nothing more. Don’t blame yourselves or your daughter. She’s strong, she’s a fighter—it’s a miracle she pulled through the surgery, focus on that.”
“You’re right,” Mrs. McLean said with a hint of pride in her voice. “Thank you.” She clasped Rosalind’s hand in both of hers, Rosalind noticed how soft they were compared to her own.
“Of course,” Rosalind answered, fighting back tears. Despite all her experience, she still felt for the families, no matter their background.
“Can we see her?” Mr. McLean asked.
“Of course, but she’s still sleeping, and probably will be for a while yet,” Jane answered. Rosalind was thankful; she wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak without her voice breaking. Jane gestured to one of the nurses and gave them quick instructions to take them to their daughter.
“I’m going to shower and go see my father,” Rosalind said quickly when Jane turned back to her. She didn’t even allow her to answer before turning her back to her and quickly walking toward her office. She kept her pace steady, though emotion threatened to overwhelm her. The situation made her think of her own family, and the way she and Jane had worked together was nothing short of spectacular. There was no logical reason that the young woman should have survived, but thanks to the abilities of Rosalind and Jane working together like that, they had worked a miracle. Rosalind was forced to acknowledge this, and it shook her to her foundation. She knew she wouldn’t be able to look at Jane for a while and keep her feelings contained, but she still wasn’t ready to admit that her choice of ending the relationship before it began wasn’t the better option.
She quickly showered and changed her clothes before heading down to her father’s room. He’d been unconscious for almost a full day now, and Rosalind knew as much as anyone that he was unlikely to wake up again; it was just a matter of time at this point. She went in there anyway and found her mother sitting by his side. Her face was vacant of any expression, and she appeared exhausted.
“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep, Mom,” Rosalind said and put a soft hand on her mother’s shoulder.
“Any moment could be his last, Rosie,” she answered, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I want to be with him.”
Rosalind nodded, her mother wasn’t wrong, but Rosalind was fairly certain that it wouldn’t matter at this point. Still, it wasn’t something she could say to her mother. Whether it was true or not, everyone wanted to believe that the people they cared about somehow know that they’re there, and Rosalind had nothing she could say or do to dispute that. It was likely more comforting for the survivors than the dying, but anything that brought her mother comfort right now would be a blessing. “At least let me bring you a cot so you can lie down for a while.”
“That won’t be necessary, dear,” her mother said, but Rosalind had already put the order in her phone for someone to bring one in. It bugged her how much her mother had sacrificed for her father. She always claimed that she was happy and that she had the life she wanted, but Rosalind wondered if there wasn’t something more. She wondered if she ever regretted giving up her own goals and standing by as her father built up his businesses. Rosalind had a happy childhood, all her needs were met, and her mother was always attentive, but even now she was afraid to ask anything of anyone. Even something as simple as a cot. Her role had always been the caregiver—the one who makes sure everyone else’s needs were met. Rosalind shook her head at the realization, and her thoughts turned to Jane. This was the same pressure that Jane felt all the time. She had been forced to grow up too soon and too fast, and now she had to figure out how to live for herself. An almost uncontrollable urge filled Rosalind to make sure that happened. She didn’t want Jane to end up like her mother, left listless once her partner was gone.
Rosalind shook her head again. It was a noble thought, but it was not up to her. Jane would have to realize this on her own. Rosalind could stand by and possibly encourage her, but just like with her mother, there was nothing Rosalind could do but watchand hope that Jane, and her mother for that matter, figured it out for themselves.
“I’m going to go check in on my patients,” Rosalind said. But really, she was looking for an excuse to leave the room; her emotions were threatening yet again to overwhelm her. Rosalind closed the door behind her and leaned against it looking up at the ceiling and blinking back tears. She quickly walked through the hospital rooms, checking in on the few patients left in the intensive care unit and heading to her office. This was all too much, she had to get out of here, and as soon as the opportunity showed itself, she was going to. She would take anything, anything at all, to get away from all this.
A soft knock sounded on her door, and Rosalind had to fight to keep from barking at this latest intruder. “Come in,” she finally said, fighting to keep her voice even.
“We need to talk,” Jane said as she walked in. Her shoulders were straight and her chin was slightly lifted. Rosalind could tell that she had struggled to find the courage to come to her, but she couldn’t allow this, not right now.
“About what?” Rosalind said and sat down behind her desk. She flicked on her computer monitor and pretended to look at the screen. Jane was so beautiful and coming in with such confidence and grace only cut her more deeply. This was who Jane needed to be—a woman who could come in and demand answers—even though Rosalind was certain Jane wouldn’t like them. Electricity danced across Rosalind’s skin. She wanted to get up and pull Jane into her arms, to kiss her like there was no tomorrow, to relive the amazing experience that was the night before, but she knew she couldn’t. She wouldn’t do that to Jane; she deserved better.
“About last night… I thought there was something between us,” Jane said. Her voice wavered slightly.
“Last night was a mistake,” Rosalind said quickly, before her nerve left her. The look of shock and hurt on Jane’s face cut her deeper than any words or actions could.
“A mistake?” Jane repeated, most of the color drained from her face.
“Yes, a mistake. I can’t afford to become attached to anyone in this city. I can’t stand it here. I’m ready to get out, and you’re not,” Rosalind said, knowing each word hurt more than the last.
“And you came to that conclusion all on your own?” Jane said, anger and humiliation growing hotter and deeper. Rosalind wanted more than anything to take it all back, but she was in too deep. “You’re so full of shit.”
Rosalind blinked a few times. She expected Jane to fight back, to sling insults, to do any number of things except, of course, to see right through her. “Does it matter?” Rosalind asked, narrowing her eyes.
“I guess it doesn’t, but if you can’t even be honest with yourself, I don’t stand a chance,” Jane huffed.
Rosalind opened and closed her mouth a few times trying to come up with an answer, any answer, but nothing came out. This was wrong; it was backwards. Jane was the one who needed to figure out who she was, not Rosalind. What the hell was happening here?
“Your ridiculous blank expression tells me all I need to know. Goodbye, Rosalind. I hope you get your way soon.” Jane winced as she belatedly realized what she was saying. Rosalind had to lose her father before she could leave.
“I will,” Rosalind barked back, feigning offense. She didn’t feel slighted, just numb. She knew Jane had a point and that she was just waiting around for her father to die, just like her mother was doing downstairs. This was all so messed up. Rosalind felt desperate to explain herself, to tell Jane that she was all Rosalind could think about. To tell Jane that she hadthe potential to completely disrupt Rosalind’s life, and she just couldn't take that chance. To try and explain that Jane was so much more than anything Rosalind had ever encountered in all her life, in all her travels. Rosalind knew, though, that that would only prolong the inevitable. She forced herself to recognize this, to acknowledge this, to believe it. She had to.
Jane spun on her heel and marched out the door, slamming it behind her. Rosalind winced, but she deserved it, she deserved every bit of ire Jane sent her way. Jane was completely innocent in all this. It was Rosalind’s own problems, her own misgivings that were holding her back. She wanted Jane more than she’d ever wanted anyone, and while she could admit that much to herself, she still wasn’t ready to admit that she would be willing to sacrifice her own ambitions for her. She was full of shit, but she couldn’t see any other way of these things playing out.
12
Jane
Jane stumbled down the hallway, tears pricking at her eyes and fury guiding each step as she made her way back to her office. She knew Rosalind was lying to herself—and to her as well—if she really believed that there was nothing between them. Then, to top off the insult with injury, she insinuated that Jane would never leave this small city. Well, Rosalind didn’t know anything, she had no idea what Jane’s plans were or what she was going to do. The knife twisted in her chest as she flung the door to her office open to find Dr. Mars standing in front of her desk.
