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“Yeah, exactly. Just lock her ass down or something. I swear to God, if she doesn’t get through this because she’s being stubborn?—”
“Jake, listen,” I said, my voice filled with sympathy for the man. “Patients handle this situation in so many different ways.”
“Tell me that throwing parties and having gatherings is just a fleeting thought, then?”
“Not really. She’s doing something we recommend for all our patients, and that is to live her life and not allow her illness to defeat her. So long as her mind is positive and in a healthy place, she could beat this with her eyes closed.”
“And if she gets sicker because of it?”
The fear in Jake’s voice was palpable, and it saddened me to hear it. He was rightfully terrified of losing his wife, and all I could do was try to keep him focused on the positive.
“The mind is an extremely powerful thing, and being in the medical field, I know you can agree with me,” I said, trying to redirect his thoughts and put them in a place where he could see his wife as a champion more than anything else.
“I know that,” Jake seemed irritated.
“So, if she’s not feeling fatigued, weak, or sick, why would you lock her in her room and put up a bubble to protect her?”
“I can’t lose her, John,” he nearly scolded.
I met his low, stern tone with one of my own, “If you hide her away from life, afraid that she will be taken from you, you can selfishly kill her fighting spirit. Let her live her life, man. Ash is a strong woman, and after getting to know her, I’m not surprised that you’re making this chicken-shit phone call, trying to bust her for not being a chicken shit like you.”
“True,” I heard him laugh.
“Then let her do what is comfortable for her. Her body and her mental state will give her the guidelines and set the limits she needs. So long as she’s getting plenty of rest and following the dietary recommendations, she will be fine to have a fun little Christmas party with her family.”
“That’s just it, though,” he said. “It’s not just some small family get-together. She wants to take a ski trip to Aspen, and she wants to invite you and your plus one since word has spread that you’re dating your co-worker.”
“Yeah, not happening,” I immediately shut down that idea.
“It’s the weekend before Christmas, so you and your lady can enjoy your first holiday filled with spiked eggnog under your?—”
“Jake,” I interrupted him with a laugh, “there’s no way we’re going to get the time off together to head to Aspen for Ashley’s private Christmas ski trip.”
Even though the thought of a ski trip sounded fantastic, there was no way I was going anywhere with this group of men. Jake and Collin were tough enough to trade insults with, but I don't know about the rest of their billionaires’ boy band.
“You know what?” Jake said, and I could almost hear him smiling through the phone.
“What?”
“You’ll go,” he said with a hint of humor, “and you have no one to thank for this but yourself. Just remember, I asked you to plant my wife’s ass in bed, and you said that would murder her spirit.”
“Well, I didn’t necessarily put it like that,” I laughed.
“Right,” Jake said, and I could hear the scheming in his voice.
“Right,” I said, trying to figure out where his mind was.
Fuck. If there was one thing everyone knew about Jake, you didn’t challenge the bastard. He marveled at getting even with you, and that’s what was happening now.
“Any-hoo,” he said in a completely different tone after a weird pause on the phone, “thank you for helping me to see things in a better light.”
“Not a problem,” I answered. “Anything else?”
“Just that you’re the chicken shit who’s afraid of living life by not wanting to head to Aspen with all of us.”
I chuckled, “That I am.”
“Famous last words.”
