Page 339 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

THREE

Pneumonia.

Fucking pneumonia.

Apparently, it wasn’t all that uncommon for a bad cold to travel into the lungs, but when someone couldn’t expel the fluids … well, that’s when shit became dangerous. John kicked himself again and again over the fact that had he just decided enough was enough a couple days earlier than he had, then his wife wouldn’t have needed to spend time in the hospital taking antibiotics, maxi-mists and getting IVs.

Jesus.

The thing about John that no one really knew was that he liked to indulge Siena a little too much. No matter what she asked for or wanted, he would give it to her if he was capable. And if he couldn’t do it, then chances were he could find someone who would. The same went when she got sick. She didn’t want to go to the hospital, so he didn’t push her to go. He kicked himself in the ass for that now.

It didn’t matter that the rational part of John’s brain told him this wasn’t his fault. Not that Siena had gotten sick, that she was stubborn as hell, or that he was so busy for the last couple of weeks that he’d been willing to not fight with his wife and let her battle through the illness at home instead of taking her into an ER. None of it was his fault, and he knew that. Still, it didn’t stop the part of him that continued to berate himself internally. Until it was all he could hear.

Fuck.

A knock on the private hospital room door had John lifting his head from his palm. The last thing he wanted to do was take his gaze from Siena’s sleeping form in the bed that he knew was damn uncomfortable—considering the amount of times he’d been chained to one of those goddamn things in his later teenage years while they worked to diagnose his bipolar, and he’d been at his worst. Still, he turned to see who had come to the room.

A nurse, he thought.

Maybe a doctor.

All their visitors had come and gone pretty regularly. His parents, siblings, and Siena’s friends. Even his cousins had come to sit with him or their wives came along to bring Siena something to make her smile. Hence why the room was full of fresh flowers and balloons. And yes, every single one made her happy.

So was his wife.

Sweet as could be.

Instead of hospital staff, John was surprised to find his therapist standing in the doorway. Leonard tipped his head down, a silent hello as his gaze darted to the sleeping woman in the bed. He raised a single white eyebrow at John, then; more silent conversation. It never failed to amuse John how well he and Leonard worked together—or rather, how well his therapist seemed to know and understand him without John ever needing to say a thing.

He bet that wasn’t common. Most doctor and patient relationships didn’t go beyond a hospital or counselor’s chair. Leonard, however, made an active effort to involve himself as more than just John’s doctor. He now counted him as a friend.

And God knew he was grateful for the man.

Incredibly so.

“Heard visiting hours are over soon,” Leonard said quietly, mindful of not waking Siena up, “so I suppose I made it in time to see you.”

John chuckled. “I missed a session, hmm?”

“Well, that’s not why I’m here, of course.”

No, that was probably because John hadn’t called. Leonard only really became concerned that something might be wrong when he didn’t get a phone call. Most times, John made every effort to make each session with Leonard because that was also just a part of his routine. One he enjoyed because for an hour or two a couple of times a week, he was able to sit down and simply focus on nothing but himself.

For someone like John, that had value.

“I just wanted to check in, actually,” Leonard said. “I heard Siena was sick, and made a call to your father to see if I could be of any help. He mentioned you hadn’t left the hospital after she was admitted, so I thought I would come down and speak directly to you instead of about you. I know how you prefer that.”

John grinned. “That I do, and thank you.”

Leonard glanced Siena’s way again. “How is she?”

“A lot better.”

Thankfully.

“Good to hear. And you?”

John sighed. “Feeling like a fuck up.”