Page 20 of Operator
She’d never be happy with me.
With the life I live.
It’s the same damn argument I’ve had with myself since I came back to Sweet Creek and saw her waiting. There’s something so pure and open about her. Maybe I wanted to lose myself in that, to feel it again, if only for a little while.
Well, you selfish bastard, you got what you asked for.
Because I am a selfish bastard, I let her kiss me, knowing tomorrow I’ll have to break it off—break her heart—and lose the best thing that ever happened to me for good.
I can only hope that someday, somehow, she’ll forgive me.
I don’t know what makes me think of Ford and the box.
Maybe it was seeing Gwen at the storage unit and knowing there are parts of her life—and Ian’s—stowed away there. Parts of the past, locked away and covered in dust. I’d done the same with the box from Ford—not wanting to think about that part of my life, knowing there was nothing I could have done to change it. I fucking hate dredging up the past. Remembering losing Tate didn’t help anyone. That was what Ford didn’t get.
But I needed something—anything—to take my mind off Gwen and Ian. Even if it meant trading one painful memory for another.
I find it shoved in the closet, along with a bunch of my old memorabilia. When I got it in the mail, I hadn’t wanted anything to do with it. Ryan Tate was dead. There was nothing we could do to change that.
But maybe there’s something I could do to mend the bonds that had been broken between me and the other members of my team.
CHAPTER NINE
GWEN
“Your blood pressureis a little high. Have you been under any undue stress lately?” The doctor’s brows knit with concern as they study the notes from the nurse who’d taken my vitals.
Undue stress. I want to laugh in his concerned face. Stress? He wants to talk about stress. I’ve got stress for days.
“You could say that. What’s wrong?”
“High blood pressure during pregnancy can pose certain risks to the baby, like decreased blood flow to the placenta, placental abruption, intrauterine growth restriction, damage to your organs, or premature delivery.”
If he was trying to make my blood pressure go down, he sure wasn’t helping. Blood rushes in my ears and they begin to ring. If something happens to this baby…I don’t know what I’d do. They’re the only thing keeping me going at this point. The only thing I have left of Ian.
The thought of something happening to them…it’s unthinkable.
“What can I do?” What wouldn’t I do? That’s probably a better question.
I leave the doctor’s office with a prescription for a blood pressure medication and strict orders to take it easy. If the hypertension develops into full blow preeclampsia, it could put us at risk for an induction or c-section. The doctor urged me to maintain my upcoming appointments to check my blood pressure and urine. Wonderful.
This is just what I needed.
I try not to cry in front of the pharmacist as they fill my prescription. They don’t say anything, but there’s a little line between their brows, like they’re curious why I keep sniffling. Thankfully, I get out of there before their concern overrides their professionalism.
When I get home a short while later, Daisy greets me with a wagging tail and slobbers all over my hands.
“Good girl,” I tell her and give her a thorough rubdown. She attempts to jump all over me. “Down, Daisy. Down.” She minds, but quivers like she’s made of an electric current. Ian had let her do whatever she wanted, and in return, she’d been helplessly devoted. After losing him, we’d both been a little lost. I’ve been trying to train her not to jump, but we’re both a work in progress.
It’s not until I reach for the side table I keep by the front door that I realize I don’t have my keys in my hands. I hadn’t needed them to unlock the door. They were still in my purse.
“Goin’ crazy, girl,” I tell Daisy as I put my purse on the rustic hook above the table and place the prescription bag on the kitchen island next to the box of papers and momentos I’d retrieved from the storage unit. I don’t think I’ll find anything in them, but it’s comforting to read Ian’s handwriting. Plus, I want to have a blanket made from his old shirts for the baby.
After I feed Daisy and take my first dose of the blood pressure medication, I get to work making something for dinner. You’d think after all day at the diner I’d be sick of food, but I find the process of cooking soothing. I put on a true crime podcast and let my mind disengage for a while. Tomorrow I’ll deal with letting Bunny know I can’t work anymore and the drama that will entail—because everything with Bunny is drama—for now I’m going to forget about it all.
Surrounded by our home, feeling our baby kick with the dog snoozing on the tile at my feet—this is my happy place. The doctor did recommend I take it easy. Maybe a couple of weeks of this will help the blood pressure issue. I needed to take some time to relax anyway. There were still things I needed to do to the nursery and a lot of clothes and accessories to organize. I should have had it all done by now with only a few weeks left to go, but I’d been putting it off.
After dinner, I grab a nonalcoholic beer from the fridge and bring Daisy out to the front porch with the box of stuff from the storage room to go through it. I sip on the beer while Daisy sniffs all the spots she sniffed this morning like they’ve changed in the few hours since.
