Page 55 of One Reckless Night

I sat there for what felt like hours, holding her hand, my mind racing. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to process this. My phone vibrated again. It was a text from Jared. I hadn’t told him what was happening. But telling him would mean opening up about my mom, about my past, about the complicated mess that was my life. And I wasn’t ready for that.

I needed to be putting distance between him and me, not getting closer to him. He was just the guy I hooked up with a couple of times. Nothing else. I wasn’t about to pour my heart and soul out about my mother.

I stood up, my legs shaky, and stepped out of the room, needing a moment to breathe. The hallway was quiet. The facility didn’t have the typical announcements blaring over a PA system. Things were quiet to keep from alarming the residents.

I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes, and took a deep breath. I needed to pull myself together. I couldn’t fall apart now. I knew things were happening. I couldn’t afford to lose it. I was a doctor. I knew the way these afflictions ended. It was why I was working so hard to make sure no other family had to go through this nightmare.

I checked the time and realized I wasn’t too late to make it to the dinner that would wrap up the conference. There was nothing I could do sitting beside my mother.

But the conference did offer information I could apply to my own research. I had to stay active.

I called an Uber, my mind still reeling, and headed back to the hotel. The ride gave me a chance to come to grips with my feelings, to try to make sense of everything that had happened.

Last night with Jared had been incredible. Being with him was like nothing I could have ever imagined. It wasn’t just the physical connection—it was the way he made me feel, the way he looked at me, the way he touched me.

Maybe he did feel something more than just a romp in the hay. It felt like more than a hookup, to me at least. I decided, right then and there, that I needed to tell him the truth about my mom. It was a vulnerable, terrifying decision, but I felt like I owed it to him. To us. I bailed on the conference he’d been so generous to bring me to. If he thought I didn’t appreciate it, he might not bring me to another one.

When I arrived at the restaurant, my heart was pounding, my hands trembling. I took a deep breath, smoothing my fancy slacks that Jared had paid for. The room was filled with people and the smell of garlic and onions. I scanned the room, looking for Jared, and that’s when I saw him.

He was sitting at a table with Gemma, leaning in close, listening to something she’d said. My stomach dropped, my chest tightening as I watched them. They looked cozy. Comfortable. Like they belonged together.

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. I knew Jared had a history with Gemma but seeing them like this hurt. More than I wanted to admit. Was last night just a one-night stand for him? Had it meant nothing? Had I not been any good?

I turned and walked out of the restaurant, my vision blurring with tears. I couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t face him, not after that. I called another Uber and went back to the hospital, my heart heavy, my mind racing.

I was supposed to head back to Key West tonight with Jared, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face him, not after what I’d just seen. There was no way I was going to be trapped in a little airplane with him.

But I couldn’t exactly afford to buy a flight.

“Dammit.”

And did I really want to leave? These might be the final hours with my mother. But in the back of my mind, I could admit the real reason I wasn’t jumping at the chance to get back to the lab was because I didn’t want to see Jared. Not yet.

I called Clair instead, the only person I knew who could possibly help me.

“Hey,” she answered. “How’s the conference?”

“Uh, fine.”

“Amelia? What’s going on?”

“My mom isn’t doing well,” I said. “I… I need to be here.”

Clair’s voice was soft, filled with concern. “Of course, Amelia. Take all the time you need. I’ll cover for you at the lab.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to tell me?” she asked gently. “I have two amazing ears. I can listen. I know you’re here alone. You’re in a foreign country and I think I’m you’re only friend, right?”

A watery laugh escaped my throat. “Oh, Clair, you have no idea just how right you are.”

Instead of going to my mother’s room, I made my way to one of the quiet rooms for family to process, grieve, or just grab a quick nap.

I sank into one of the worn chairs. The air smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and stale coffee. There was a Bible on the table. Inspirational posters were hung on the walls. The soft lighting from a couple of table lamps was so much better than the bright lighting in the hall.

“It’s bad. The worst.”

“Tell me,” Clair said.