“No, Deacon. Don’t do that to yourself. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Ang had the absolute best care. What happened is what happened.” He swallowed and blinked. “Ah, speaking of Emma . . . I stopped by her cabin this morning to see if I could take her out to breakfast before my meeting here.”
“You did?” Jealousy flared before I could tamp it down, and I guess it showed in my voice, since Noah chuckled and shook his head.
“Dude, calm down. We’re friends. I hope that’s not going to change, and I hope you’re going to be cool with it. Because I love her—as a friend—and I don’t want to put her in the position of choosing between our friendship and her love for you.” He regarded me speculatively. “That’s why I was going to look for you. I thought the two of us should have a talk, see if we can make things easier for the woman we both love.”
I was about to open my mouth to protest Noah’s use of theLword. I hadn’t told Emma that I loved her. She hadn’t said it to me, either—at least, she hadn’t mentioned it since she’d spit it out to me at the end of an argument, when she’d revealed that she’d been in love with me before I’d left for Europe.
But before I could say something stupid, I realized that Noah was right. I did love Emma. I’d been in love with her for longer than I cared to admit . . . possibly from the first time we’d met, when she’d made a snarky comment about me saving the world. I’d been cagey about keeping that information from her—hell, I hadn’t even let myself believe it. But standing now with a man who’d given his all for his own love, who’d watched the love of his life die right here in my hospital . . . it seemed small and petty to deny it.
And so I only nodded. “I think that’s a good idea, too.” I paused. “Did you . . . see Emma this morning?”
“Oh, yeah. She made me breakfast,” Noah answered cheerfully. “I got to watch her do the walk of shame from her car to the house, since I was waiting in her front yard when she pulled up.” He grinned. “I might have given her a little bit of shit over that. It was fun.”
I could only imagine Emma’s mortification of being caught by Noah as she crept into her house in yesterday’s clothes. “I bet.”
“But listen, dude. What I wanted to say is that you don’t have to worry about me. Emma and I are cool. She’s an amazing woman, and like I said, I love her—but not in a way that should bother you.” He dropped his hand on my shoulder and gave a little shake. “Don’t think of me as a rival for Emma’s heart—look at me as an ally. I want her to be happy, and damned if I understand it totally, but it seems to me like you’re the one who makes her that way.”
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Uh, thanks. I’m grateful for that.” I dropped my gaze to the floor. “I think . . . when you two were together, I felt like I didn’t have any right to be mad, because in some weird, twisted way, I thought I owed it to you. I thought because of what happened with Angela, it would be wrong of me to stand in the way of you finding happiness again, this time with Emma.”
His head bobbed. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s weird. Like you’re sacrificing Emma to appease your own guilt. That’s Greek mythology level shit, dude. Let it go.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Okay. Got it.”
“Good.” Noah crossed his arms. “Now, I’m gonna have to give you the big brother talk.”
“Buddy.” I snorted. “I appreciate the thought, but I’m older than you.”
“Notyourbig brother. Emma’s big brother. And the talk involves me threatening that if you fuck up with her, if you hurt her, break her heart, make her cry anything but happy tears, I’m gonna have to hunt you down and destroy you. Got it? Are we cool?”
I managed to nod. “Yeah. I got it. And we’re cool. As much as it’s within my power, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure Emma’s happy.”
“That’s all you can do.” Noah reached into his pocket and slipped his dark sunglasses over his eyes. “Okay, I’m out of here. I promised Mr. Zamora that I’d be here for the opening night shindig they’re planning, so I guess I’ll see you then.”
“Absolutely.” I stepped back. “And Noah—thanks.”
“Yeah, whatever, dude.” He shot one finger at me. “Remember what I said. You’re getting another chance with Emma. Most people don’t get that kind of do-over. Don’t fuck it up.”
* * *
After my conversation with Noah, I was both eager and apprehensive about seeing Emma. I wondered if she would pretend last night hadn’t happened, if she was having regrets, or if she’d be embarrassed or . . . whatever. Women were so damn unpredictable. I wasn’t sure what to expect.
As it worked out, though, our paths didn’t cross until later in the afternoon. We had a minor issue with a patient reacting to new meds, and that kept me busy for a couple of hours. And then Gram and Pop showed up to see Ted.
I ushered them into his room, already braced for whatever vitriol he might spew at them. Gram was clutching her handbag tight, the only indication of her own tension, and Pop’s jaw was hard.
“Ted.” I stepped into the room ahead of my grandparents. “My—uh, your parents are here to see you. Is it all right if they come in?” I hated giving him the option to turn them away, but Emma had taught me well, and I knew that giving someone a choice was always preferable whenever possible.
As if to prove her right, Ted’s reaction wasn’t at all what I expected. He gazed at me for a long moment and then nodded.
“They came, huh? I’m . . . surprised. Hell, yeah, let them in.”
I glanced into the hallway and beckoned to Gram and Pop. The two of them ventured into the room, Gram’s eyes immediately going to her son laying in the hospital bed, hooked up to IVs and oxygen.
“Teddy.” She walked to his bedside and picked up his hand. “It’s good to see you, son.”
Ted blinked rapidly, even though his mouth was set in a hard line. “Ma. Glad you could come.” He looked over her shoulder. “Pop.”
My grandfather bobbed his head, but he kept his distance. “Ted. We were sorry to hear about your troubles.”
