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“Can you walk?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern.
“I think so. I’m just going to be holding onto you for dear life.”
“That’s okay. I got you.” He grabs the IV bag off of the pole and leads me into the bathroom that is connected to this room.
When we get inside, I do my business, finding myself too tired to care that Jackson is right here next to me the entire time. I stare at the shower that is behind us through the mirror as I wash my hands.
“We can take a shower after we talk to Doc,” Jackson says.
I smile up at him. “That would be great.”
“Are you ready?”
I shake my head but take his arm. We head out of the room and down the hall towards the main room. The small medical room we were in was down the hall with the stairs that go to the basement. I never knew it was here.
We walk across the main room to the other hall and into one of the open offices. Jackson has me sit in the desk chair while he stands behind me, still holding the IV bag.
“Alright, so first I want you to finish that bag.” He points to the IV bag. “After it’s gone, come find me and I will take the IV out. You also need to eat and drink lots of water. You were severely dehydrated. Nothing seems to be wrong. You have a few bumps and bruises, but nothing that is cause for concern. I took your blood when they brought you back here, but I would like to take it again in a few days just to make sure that everything is looking good.”
Everything in me seizes up. It feels like a bucket of freezing cold ice water has been dumped on me, and it freezes me in place. Blood tests. He knows. He has to know. Does Jackson know? I hadn’t told him yet.
What if he doesn’t want this? With me? Tears fall down my cheeks as Jackson squats down in front of me. “Angel?”
“I’m going to give you some time. Please come find me when that bag is done.”
I can’t bring myself to look at him, so I let Jackson respond. Then I am being lifted into his arms and carried out of the office and upstairs. We soon reach the bedroom, and he guides me into the bathroom. Setting me on the counter, he has me hold the IV bag with the hand that doesn’t have the IV in it.
“Let’s take a bath. I’ll join you, okay? We don’t want your arm getting wet with the IV still in.”
“Okay,” I mumble. I remain seated on the counter, watching as he moves around the bathroom, setting up the bath. When he’s finished, he walks back over to me and steps between my legs.
“I love you.” He softly kisses me. “You’re strong. And so fucking beautiful. I don’t think I will ever understand how you ended up with me.” I open my mouth, shocked and ready to tell him how wrong he is, but he kisses me again. “You don’t get to disagree with me. I’ve watched you fight for your life and go through unspeakable things, and you are still here standing. If that isn’t strength, then I don’t know what is.”
He helps me get undressed and then leads me over to the bath. Once I am settled with my IV and arm out of the water, he takes off his clothes.
I lean my head back on the edge and enjoy the warmth of the water as I watch him get undressed. Even though we both don’t look our best, with him looking exhausted and unkept, I still find myself wanting him. I watch as his muscles flex with each movement. My eyes trace over each of his tattoos on his chest; something I used to look down on I now find mesmerizing and beautiful.
“Scoot forward, angel.”
I startle and blink as I glance up at his face. My face heats, and I’m sure I am turning bright red.
Jackson chuckles and slides in behind me as I scoot forward. After readjusting us so I am leaning back on his chest with his legs bracketing mine, we finally relax.
I watch as he grabs the washcloth and body wash from the side of the tub and starts slowly washing every inch of me. His lips feather over my shoulders and neck. I sigh and close my eyes.
He murmurs, “How are you feeling? I want to know every thought going through your head.”
His voice is so calm and sincere. He doesn’t stop washing my body, and it helps me breathe and keeps my anxiety calm.
“I don’t really know. I’m… my thoughts jump around so much. They scare me sometimes. And sometimes I can’t make myself stop overthinking. It just forces its way in. Then I sit there and second guess everything and make myself panic.” I force myself to take a deep breath as my words come out faster, more panicked.
Jackson kisses my ear and murmurs, “You’re doing so good. Keep going, sweetheart.”
“I’m scared, Jackson. I’m so worried that things will never be better. I know we have Ben, but I also feel like I need to see him gone. But then I don’t know if I can handle that. And what does it make me if I do handle it and it doesn’t bother me? I’m scared because I lost one baby. I lost it because of how stupid I was. How I didn’t pay attention to the warning signs. The signs were screaming in my face, and I ignored them. You pointed that out. I fucked up. What if I’m not strong enough?”
I shut my mouth before the words tumble out. This isn’t how this is supposed to go. It’s supposed to be a fun time. We are supposed to jump for joy and celebrate with the people we love.
Jackson stops his movements and sets the washcloth down. He grabs my hips and lifts me, moving me around like a doll until I am facing him, my thighs now straddling his. “Not strong enough for what, angel?” His all-knowing eyes hold mine.
