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“I love the way you’re looking at me right now,” he whispered as I worked above him, our intimate connection still strong as it thrummed between us.
“Oh yeah?” I leaned over him, doing a position check for his head. “How am I looking at you?”
“Like I’m the only man in the world.”
I ignored his comment as a small lump formed in my throat and did my best to concentrate on getting him into position.
“Excuse me, but could you please put a shirt on? This is highly unprofessional,” he said in mock annoyance.
“Oh, Mr.—”
I froze and looked down on him just as his pointer and thumb closed on my nipple. I shrieked as he twisted it painfully then screamed out his last name. “Sawyer, it’s Sawyer!”
“Hmph, best not forget it,” he slapped my ass painfully before he resumed his position.
“All right, lie perfectly still, understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed easily though his hands continued to roam over my chest and neck as he looked up at me with a sexy grin.
“I said lie still.” I placed his hands in position. “Is there any chance at all you may be pregnant?”
“Slim,” he said, playing along.
“Just to make sure, I’m going to place this on your chest,” I said picking up the magnetic pack and throwing it into position over him.
“A girl can never be too careful,” he said in a pathetic attempt at a woman’s voice.
“Jack,” I chuckled, looking down at him as a sudden mix of emotions struck me.
“What is it, beautiful?” he asked as he reached up to push the falling hair from around my face.
I felt myself fill with gratitude. I wanted to give him a piece of what he’d given me over the last few days, but I couldn’t put it into words.
“Lie still!”
“Yep,” he said, placing his hands at his sides.
I walked into the adjacent room and started the machines, knowing how to use them but also with the knowledge that we would hire the best technician to utilize them. It was a critical part of the diagnosis and we had no room for error. As I stood in the quiet room and pressed the speaker to call out instructions, a crippling fear overtook me as he lay in the body basket. For a brief moment, I panicked as the machine began to turn. A prayer went up for the first time since I could remember, and I had to take a seat as fear swept through me.
“Breathe, Rose.”
It had been almost a solid year since I’d had an attack. As I studied the images flashing across the screen, I was unable to stop myself from scrutinizing them. I took a deep breath and held it before I let it go. It came out sputtering and weak, and I felt the tears start to roll down my face. Heart pounding out of control, I braced myself and felt the inevitable panic wash over me.
“Not now, not now, chill out, Rose,” I scolded myself as I began to shake. Several long breaths later, I knew it was pointless as wave after wave of fear gripped me. My forehead damp with sweat, I began to work through it as my need to see his scans became a sort of lifeline.
I studied every scan for several minutes with hyper-focused scrutiny as they appeared. Relief swept through me as I saw a perfectly healthy set of CTs. I had to give myself another moment to collect myself. A much more somber version of me walked out of that room, and I knew I would do a poor job of hiding it. I was an absolute wreck.
I pushed the button and saw Jack’s easy smile as he emerged in one piece while I stood in a million before him. His smile quickly turned to worry when he saw my face.
“Rose?” He shot up from the table.
“They’re all clear,” I said with heavy breath.
“God, you’re so pale,” he said, pulling his shirt from the floor and making quick use of it before gripping my arms. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Jack looked around to search for the person responsible for my upset, but she was standing right in front of him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Look, I can show you where the scans are clear. Come on.” I gestured toward the door.
“I don’t give a fuck about the scans,” he barked. “Why are you shaking?”
