“You’ve got a fever,” I said.
“What? No. It’s just hot.” Then he looked into my eyes. “You’ve been crying.”
“I said something I shouldn’t have to a patient. I’m probably getting fired.”
He blinked. “What?”
I shrugged. “Everyone can have a bad day.” He gave me a quick hug as he pulled me into the house. But he quickly released me, then headed into the kitchen. I watched him closely as he moved. I saw the way his breath hitched and how he protected his side. They were subtle motions, things that most people wouldn’t see because Jake was hiding them. But I’d been watching this man for a long time, and I knew there was a problem.
“Are your ribs hurting?”
“The bed here sucks.”
Maybe, but it wouldn’t make that much of a difference. “They should have healed by now.”
“I just need some aspirin.” As he spoke, he popped open the top of a bottle, flashed me a rueful smile, then threw a few pills into his mouth.
“That’s not the way to take medicine, and you know it.”
He didn’t answer as he filled a glass with water and drank deeply. When he was done, he rubbed his face and looked at me. “Tell me what happened at work.”
I shook my head slowly as I looked at him, and all the frustration I’d felt over the past few weeks started churning again. Jake was an amazing athlete, a loving son, and a generally considerate boyfriend. After all, here he was, in the middle of the night, trying to comfort me after he’d obviously spent most of the night dealing with his father. It would be ungrateful of me to start fighting with him. And truly bitchy.
But when I looked at him and at this house, all I could see was layer upon layer of denial. I didn’t know if it was because of Pops’s drinking or something that had happened before that. Had he had other hard knocks before his wife abandoned him? Who the hell knew? I certainly didn’t, because no one talked about it. They just cut the grass and pretended it wasn’t killing them.
It was bad enough that Pops lived that way, but now Jake was falling into the same pattern. Sure, he’d ask me to bare my soul, but when it was his turn to let me see the real him, he just deflected my attention. He didn’t drink, but he sure as hell didn’t talk, either.
“I’ll tell you, if you tell me,” I challenged.
He rubbed his eyes and walked to the couch. “Tell you what?”
“On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in?”
“It’s nothing.” He sat down on the couch, moving his body carefully.
“Bullshit. Take a deep breath.”
He looked up at me. “What?”
“Take a deep breath.”
“Ellie, I know you’re upset about your job, but I’m sure it’ll be okay. Anyone can have a bad day. It’s just that Darth Vader boss you have. This is her fault.”
No, it was mine, but I wasn’t going to get sucked into an argument about that. I was too primed for this one.
“Have you told the team doctors about the pain?”
“Ellie, it’s nothing.”
“Is it nothing…or are you afraid that it’s something and you’ll get kicked off the team for it?”
He glared at me. “That’s ridiculous.”
It was, and yet hospitals were filled with people—athletes included—who denied a problem until it was too late. I crossed the room and pressed my hand to his forehead. He tried to duck away, but I was insistent. Fever. Clear as day.
“Just how bad does it hurt, Jake?”
I reached down to press on his ribs, but he grabbed my hand. “The bruise is gone, Ellie. I don’t need you mothering me.”
