She sat in the cafeteria to eat lunch so Jason could have privacy eating his. The smile still wouldn't go away.
"Someone looks happier than this morning."
Looking up, she recognized the doctor from the elevator. He had a wrapped sandwich and drink in his hand.
"Hi. Yes, things are better." She smiled. Things were so much better than a few hours ago.
"Are you here alone? May I join you?"
"Oh. Um, sure." She pulled her tray back to make room on the other side of the table.
"Thanks. I didn't catch your name in the elevator. Emma?"
She nodded and glanced at his nametag, not having paid attention at all when he'd said it in the elevator. Dr. Parks. She nibbled her lip. This was a bit awkward. "What department are you in?" She took the opportunity to down another bite of sandwich so she could get out of here. Lunch with a strange man wasn't at the top of her top ten favorite things.
"ER. Glad to see things are going better with you. Here for your husband?" He glanced at her naked finger.
"Friend." Shoot. The hospital thought she was Jason's wife. Oh well, it's not like he was going to talk to the nurses in ICU about her.
He nodded. "Best of luck that things keep going well."
"Thanks."
"So, what do you do?" Then he had the grace to laugh. "Sorry, this sounds like an inquisition. Just trying to make conversation."
She smiled, relaxing a little bit. "I'm actually doing a freelance job right now trying to figure out if there's embezeling for a business."
His dark eyebrows rose. "Really? That's fascinating. Is that your normal freelancing?"
"Well, I recently got a grad degree in medical writing, but it's harder getting into the field without experience than I thought. This is just to tide me over for awhile."
He took a bite of sandwich and seemed to think it over. He swallowed. "You know, I have a friend who has been doing medical freelance writing for hospital materials the past ten years. Sometimes she gets overloaded in the spring. If you want, I can ask her if I can give you her number."
"Oh no, that's alright." She flushed. This seemed weird.
"Alright. But she does stuff for big hospitals. If you change your mind, you know where to find me." He smiled.
She nodded and popped the rest of her sandwich in her mouth, crumpling up the wrapper.
"I'm sorry. This is kinda awkward. You just look like this girl I knew in high school in Spanish class who was really smart and nice to me. I was a big nerd with braces and needed a leg brace after a skiing accident."
Her mouth fell open. "Tommy?"
He blinked. "Hoplin? Emma Hoplin?"
"Yeah!" She laughed and shook his proffered hand across the table. "Wow, look at you, a doctor now."
He laughed. "And you look great. That's awesome, a medical writer."
She held up a hand. "Not officially."
He waved his hand. "You're smart enough that you'll get work soon." Then he sobered. "It really meant a lot that you helped me with Spanish during lunches. If it hadn't been for you, I'd have been eating alone and flunking Spanish."
She frowned. "Why didn't you have many friends?"
"Any, you mean? I loved doing science experiments more than afterschool sports. The one time I worked up the nerve to go with the guys doing something, I totally wiped out on the snowboard and broke my leg. I'm better at socializing now. Kinda." He smiled and sat back.
"Wow. Do you have a family or anything?"
"Nope. You?"
She shook her head.
"I'm getting the old speech from my parents, the when-are-you-going-to-settle-down-and-have-kids one." He shrugged.
She laughed. "Me too. I turn thirty in a few days, but you'd think it was eighty with how the relatives act."
A few minutes later, she wiped the tears from her eyes from laughing at his jokes. She glanced at her watch. "Oh! I'd better go. I didn't realize it's been nearly an hour." Scooping up her purse and trash, she got up.
He scooped his trash up. "May I walk you back?"
"Oh. Sure."
She walked down Jason's hall with him. "Right up there. Thanks for walking me back." Her steps slowed, not wanting him to see Jason in case he wasn't wearing his bandage.
He kept walking and set a hand on her lower back. "It was good seeing you. Do you live near?"
She tensed and stepped to the side so his hand dropped. "No, a few hours away, actually. Just here for my friend." Her voice quivered a bit. It was just Tom, no reason to panic. She knocked on the half closed door to give Jason warning. And hopefully get him to come out. Then she turned to Tom, trying to get him to go. "It was good seeing you."
The door opened and Jason looked from her to Tom, who was a few inches shorter.
"Jason, this is Tom Parks-" Her hands shook, and she instinctively set a hand on his arm. His presence made her feel safer.
Jason glanced at her and then stuck out his hand. "Dr. Jason Port," he cut in, standing tall and looking Tom straight in the eye. His grip looked like it was firm, and his hand was larger than Tom's.
She blinked. He never introduced himself as 'doctor' to anyone.
"Pleasure," Tom said and set a hand on her back.
Jason's eye narrowed on Tom when she stiffened and clutched his sleeve. "We went to high school," she explained and stepped closer to Jason.
He slipped his arm around her. "Is everything alright?" he asked quietly for her ears alone.
She swallowed hard and nodded.
Tom looked from her to Jason and back for a moment. "Let me know if you want that number, Emma." Then he nodded and walked away.
She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
He guided her into the room and closed the door. "Was he bothering you? You looked scared."
She walked over to the bed and sat on the foot of it. Then she stared at the floor. "I was okay until he set his hand on my back down the hall. I got scared," she whispered.
He sat down on the bed beside her. "Do you get scared when I touch you?" His voice sounded compassionate and patient.
"No." Raising her eyes to his, she blinked back tears.
"Emma, perhaps it would be good to talk to a therapist or someone who deals with situations like you've been through. Maybe once is all you need," he said softly. "It's still so fresh, and you've been so busy with me that I don't think you've had time to really deal with the attack and the memories it brought back."
Curling up against him, she shook her head.
"What if I go with you?"
"No," she whimpered. Telling a stranger the nightmares, the details, the humiliation seemed too frightening.
"Will you tell me at least?"
A tear splashed onto his shoulder. She turned her face into him. He lifted her into his lap and rocked her as she told the story and wept.
"You know I would never hurt you," he whispered against her hair. "He needs to fear someone but those words I said were not for you."
"I know," she sniffled. "I've never been with anyone else. I've been too scared since to date."
"Sex should be gentle and filled with pleasure and passion, Emma. But most of all trust. You shouldn't fear all men because of one." He stroked her arm.
"Have you...? Sorry, that's not my business." She didn't want to think of him being intimate with anyone else. Maybe it was too soon for intimacy questions like that yet. But wondering about him with another woman made her stomach hurt.
"You can ask whatever you wish, and I'll say if I'm not comfortable saying yet." A deep sigh ruffled her hair. "I was engaged a few years ago. We never reached that level of physial intimacy, thankfully." He sounded so hurt that she held him tighter. "I was sedated for two days in the burn unit. She was there when they changed the bandage, the first time the doctor let us see the damage." His heart beat faster against her ear. "She gasped and stumbled away. The horror in her eyes...I told her that day I was calling off the wedding. She didn't object. I think she was relieved because she felt guilty to do it herself. I can't bind a woman in marriage when she fears my touch."
She lifted her head to see him blink back tears.
"I knew it wasn't a good match anyways when her reaction hurt more than losing her. I was naive and thought a spouse's love could be blind to anything. But a spouse is still a person, and people innately fear things. Things that don't look human."
Her eyes searched his face. "That's why you won't let me see. But you let Trudy and Stevens see, and they aren't afraid of you."
"It's completely different having a beast crawl into your bed. If I ever marry, my wife won't see my face. There's no crueler thing than a woman having nightmares about what sleeps beside her."
Her stomach rolled. "Is that what she said?"
"Not in as many words," he sighed.
She cupped his face in her hands. "Jason-"
He caught the wrist of her hand touching the bandage and pulled it away.
Her heart fell, and she stared at him in disbelief. "And don't you think not knowing might be more frightening?"
"Emma."
She got to her feet and spun on him. "That is not right. You can't project her reaction onto everyone else. That's no different than me never letting a man touch me again because of what he did!"
He raised his hand up. "I'm not doing this." Then he stood and started to walk across the room.
"Jason-"
"NO!" he whirled around. Then his face contorted in pain and he grabbed his head, stumbling back a step against the wall.
She hurried over and wrapped an arm around him. He leaned heavily on her and held his head. "I'm sorry..." Her words cut off when fluid leaked through the bandage. "We need a doctor!" she called and struggled to get him to the bed.
A nurse and doctor ran in. It killed her to do it, but she walked out and waited in the hall while the doctor barked orders. What if he'd gotten so upset the fluid leak has started again? She paced the hall, her heart thundering in fear.
The doctor stepped out a minute later. "He must not get his blood pressure that high. The surgical site is draining a bit more than usual from the infection and was exacerbated from his blood pressure. He needs to be in bed the rest of the day just to be sure."
"Thank you." She stayed in the hall until the nurse left the room too. Then she went in. He sat up in bed against some pillows, looking so lost. "Jason?" She walked over and sat down on the bed. "Do you feel alright?"
He slowly nodded, staring down at the bed. "I don't know if I can do this," he whispered. "I know you think it's an issue of trust, which maybe it is to a degree, but I honestly think that it would change things for the worse for you to see my face. If you need that, I can't give it to you."
She took his hands. "I think we're both stressed and tired. Things are moving faster for you than they are for me. To me, seeing this much of your face is no different than seeing someone on the street, but this is a big deal for you. Secrets are normal for you because of the circumstances, but secrets scare me."
He looked at her quickly, as if not having thought of it this way.
"I dated Gaston for nine months and found out he was cheating and owed some guys money. Then he got into my apartment four years ago..." She searched his eye. "I moved in with my parents and was terrified to be alone for six months. It took me eighteen months to get my life put back together. I'm nervous of men. I know it doesn't make sense, but my imagination runs wild in my dreams not knowing what you look like since I found out about the burn. You tell me these stories about people reacting, I see nurses reacting, you're so adamant I shouldn't see your face..."
His eye filled with compassion and worry. "And I'm making you scared."
She bit her lip and hesitated.
"Tell me, Emma. We need to talk like this, or it's just going to turn into arguments," he urged. "I don't want you to be worried to tell me you're afraid. I understand that my face is a very big issue in a relationship. I need you to understand, though, that I need to take things slow. I know your feelings have gotten farther than mine-"
Dropping her eyes, she swallowed down that embarrassment of having said 'I love you' when he didn't feel the same way.
His finger hooked under her chin and slowly raised her eyes to meet his. "That doesn't mean I'm not getting there. I don't want you wondering where things are at, or why I haven't reciprocated. You're right that things are moving fast, I just need them to slow down a little. I'm glad you don't seem nervous around me like other men, but that's part of why I want to take things slow. You've been badly hurt in a relationship, and I don't want to blunder it. Sorry, I hijacked the conversation. You were saying you see nurses reacting." His thumb stroked her cheek.
She swallowed hard, his words making her heart constrict. "You know, it would help if you were a jerk sometimes."
He blinked and then burst out laughing.
He looked so beautiful when he was happy, the corner of his eye crinkling with a twinkle in his eye. Perfect teeth glistened and an adorable dimple creased his cheek. She couldn't help but smile.
Holding his bandage, his laughter died down. "Let me record that. At some point you'll be telling me to stop being a jerk. Oh, I need more pain pills if you're going to start cracking jokes."
She smiled, glad he was in good humor again, and reached up to touch his poor face before remembering herself when he pulled back. "Sorry. Alright, I need to know boundaries."
He nodded. "No touching my right shoulder and up, bandage or not. For now."
She nodded. "But sometimes I'm going to forget, and you can't bite my head off."
"Fair enough."
She nibbled her lip.
"What? You bite your lip when you're thinking of a question."
Releasing her lip, she said, "Nothing."
"No, we need to be open." He held her eyes and patiently waited.
"It's not a question for now, but I was just wondering if that's a hard rule for forever."
He thought for a moment. "I think it'll just take time to be comfortable with you touching my shoulder. The burn is much worse on my neck and up." He opened his mouth and then closed it. Then he said, "I don't know, but part of me doesn't see any difference between touching and seeing the scars because you can paint a picture by touch. Part of me never wants any woman I'm with to even touch it. But maybe in five years I'll feel different."
She nodded. "Alright, I should tell you that one of the nurses said you have incomplete reconstruction of your ear. I don't know anything else," she added quickly.
His brow furrowed a bit, as if unsure what to say. "Okay."
Setting a hand on her chest, she said, "I just don't want you to think I don't know something but I do."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "Ah. I appreciate that. Well, I'm sure you probably know from stories of burn victims that the ear usually doesn't survive."
She nodded. "Tell me if I'm asking too much. May I ask if you're thinking of having more plastic surgery?"
He slowly shook his head. "I've had twenty four surgeries, which is far fewer than some burn victims. I'm so sick of hospitals, and there's not much physical improvement anymore that I don't want more surgeries."
"Twenty four?" Her heart broke. "Trudy and Pete said you've been alone for plastic surgeries. I have a request: I want to be there with you. What if something serious happens like today? You shouldn't be alone."
He looked hesitant. "I'll tell you about it, but we discuss if you'll be coming or not. I don't foresee needing more surgeries, though."
"Okay."
"You still haven't answered the question about if it's making you more scared seeing people react to me." His beautiful blue eye held so much understanding.
She couldn't look at him. It would hurt him so much to hear this.
"You have nightmares about me," he said, somehow seeming to know.
Her lip quivered. "I'm not scared of you. I don't know why I'm having these nightmares lately."
"Emma, don't cry. I had nightmares too before I saw." Her eyes flew to him, and he nodded. "It's alright. I think it's normal to fear the unknown. But even I had nightmares far worse after seeing it. I've been there, Emma. Trust me that it's best for you to not know." He held her hands tight and swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. "The burn extends along almost this entire half of my head. My ear pretty much all gone, and, obviously, my eye is. My lower lip was mostly gone, so what was reconstructed pulls downward. The angle and tightness of the scar tissue make it difficult to eat. And, as you know, limit how much I can open my mouth." He blew out a shakey breath.
Tears pricked her eyes. He'd swallowed down his fears and insecurities to put her needs first. "Thank you. You didn't need to tell me all of that."
"Oh goodness, you're overtired, aren't you?" He brushed away her tear that escaped, and he pulled her into his lap and kissed the top of her head. "Let's get you home for a good night's rest."
"But-"
"I will keep, Emma. I feel fine, and the doctor said everything is fine." When she continued to protest, he said, "Emma, in all honesty, I need a break too. This is alot to take in you seeing my face and everything. It's nothing personal, I'm just as drained as you are."
"I'm sorry-"
"No, I'm glad today happened." He leaned his forehead against hers and said huskily, "I'm really glad you came, Emma." Then he brushed a kiss over her lips. "Come tomorrow?"
She smiled. "I will. And tomorrow we do fun things."