A/N: To quote Samuel L. Jackson in Jurassic Park: "Hold onto your butts."
April 5, 2016
It took me a beat to process what was happening. Not only was I seeing Stephanie four months earlier and in a different place than I expected, but she was glaring at me.
"It's my company," I replied. "Is there a problem?"
"IS THERE A PROBLEM?" she repeated, throwing her hands up. "Seriously? What did you think would happen if we ever ran into each other one day?"
What was I missing? What the hell had I done twelve years ago that could have stuck with her this long. "If you'd asked me that question five minutes ago, I would have said we'd have a nice conversation on what we've been doing since 2004. Now I have no idea what the hell is happening."
Stephanie made a disgusted noise and headed to the door. "I'm out of here. There's no way I'm working for a jerk like you."
I moved around her to place myself between her and the door. "Let's talk in my office," I suggested.
"No way. I've seen enough of you to last me the rest of my life," she said, making to move around me again. I moved to stop her again, and she brought her knee up to hit me in the balls. I managed to move so it only grazed me. Still not a great feeling, but better than full contact. She used my awkward move to push past me and out the front door.
I headed after her and caught up to her as she made to climb into her Miata, swearing under my breath as the cold, windy air seeped through my t-shirt. "Stop," I said, putting a hand on the door to keep her from opening it. "Tell me what I did to piss you off so badly."
Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest. "Did you seriously forget how you ended things?" she asked.
"I remember, and it wasn't with all this hostility. Clearly, we're remembering the situation differently."
She put her hands on her hips and stared at me. "Oh yeah? How do you remember it?"
"I remember enjoying my time with you and hoping it would be more. But you weren't interested in anything serious and wanted to keep seeing that other guy, and I wasn't interested in dating a woman who was seeing someone else. Is there something I'm missing?"
"Yeah, you're missing the fact that you were such an arrogant asshole that you didn't listen to what I wanted," she replied. "I told you I liked you and was interested in being with you, but I wanted to take things slow. But you thought you were so hot that you should only get what you wanted and didn't care what I thought."
"That isn't fair. I told you I wasn't interested in dating you if you were seeing someone else. I wasn't opposed to taking things slowly."
"But when I told you I wanted time to see how things went with Josh and could you give me time, you said no."
"Because I told you I wasn't going to date you if you were seeing someone else. If you wanted more time to figure out if things with Josh would get more serious, you could have said so. I would have given you more time. You didn't ask for more time. You asked me if we could keep seeing each other. Big difference."
"That's not how you made it sound," she replied with slightly less hostility. "You were all or nothing. You said you weren't sharing a girlfriend and that was the end of it. If you could have just been patient for a few more weeks, Josh would have been out of the picture, and we could have been together. But I'm sure you thought someone like me should have been grateful for the attention of someone like you and asking for time to see where things went with someone else wasn't showing you the gratitude you deserved."
I recalled those few weeks we had been together and how I'd felt about her. It had been amazing to be with her again because I'd missed her so much from my past life. I'd noticed things about her that had bothered me but attributed them mostly to the vast mental age difference between us. I still had twenty years more mental experience than her, but I suspected the difference wouldn't be as noticeable now that she was in her thirties. I had been frustrated at times by her thoughtlessness, but had forgiven it because she was nineteen. I'd never expected her to be grateful to be with me. I had been the one grateful to be with her. And now she was accusing me of being a controlling bastard who refused to consider her wishes. Not that I was completely innocent of that behavior— I'd caught myself doing it with Julio more times than I cared to admit, but I could not recall a time where I'd done that with her. The only demand I'd ever made was that if she was going to continue seeing me that we were exclusive. I didn't consider that unreasonable.
"It sounds to me like you regretted your decision and instead of accepting that you made the wrong choice or reaching out to me to see if we could try again, you've spent the last twelve years blaming me for it," I said.
"So if I'd called you up that January after Josh got caught hiding cameras in the women's bathrooms and said 'Hey, I chose wrong and could we try again,' you would have said yes?" she asked skeptically.
"I guess we'll never know."
I was annoyed now and part of me hoped she would leave and never come back. My plans to help her had caused more than enough problems in my second life, and I wasn't interested in dealing with her unwarranted hostility on top of everything else. I'd believed we could be friends this time, especially without the sexual tension and unspoken feelings that had sat between us so long in my last life. There'd be no guilt over Morelli or frustrations that I wasn't ready for a commitment. We'd be friends, and I'd teach her how to take care of herself in a dangerous job. Her early re-entrance into my life should have been the most disconcerting aspect of the situation, but it seemed like the least of my problems now.
"Can we continue this inside?" I asked, watching her struggle to form her next words. I crossed my arms over my chest as a gust of cold wind blew around us. "Unless you're trying to kill me with hypothermia."
She seemed to be having an internal battle over what to do. I'd clearly hit a nerve, but she wasn't ready to admit it. I knew she needed the money from the job, but she wasn't sure if her pride could stand it.
"Fine," she huffed. We headed back inside and I showed her to my office, leaving her there to get a cup of coffee from the break room. Good manners would have been to bring her one, but given the events of the last ten minutes, I wasn't feeling inclined to use my best manners.
"Why are you working as a temp?" I asked when I sat down behind my desk. "I don't remember Rutgers offering a degree in transient office work."
Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest in a way that wasn't hostile, but more like a self-embrace. "I used to work at E.E. Martin as a lingerie buyer. But after everything they got caught up in—,"
"They cleaned house," I finished for her. "So you're doing this while you look for something else?"
She nodded. "I'm not having a lot of luck. I either hate the job, the place, the people, the schedule, or the uniform. The ones I did like hired other people."
Julio had asked me why I didn't give Stephanie a job in my office to keep her safer, and I'd told him it was because she had always hated what I'd given her. She had learned to work in my office after almost a year of adrenaline rushes as she chased down criminals amidst chaos. Running background checks was mind-numbing in comparison. But maybe I could do it differently this time. Start her out in the office and if things went well, ease her into some of the other work while keeping her far away from the highly dangerous stuff. Her life hadn't been as chaotic before she started in bond enforcement. Perhaps I could keep it that way. Especially if we didn't end up being friends, and I wasn't someone she turned to for help.
"The schedule here would be eight to five, Monday through Friday. You'd have health insurance, a steady income, paid time off plus holidays, and you could wear whatever you wanted as long as it's professional. And if you were ever interested, you could get trained to do occasional security detail, though that would have unpredictable hours and you would be required to wear a uniform unless the job called for something else," I told her.
Stephanie looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "I just spent ten minutes yelling at you, and you're offering me a job?"
"I need someone competent working in this office before my Columbus office manager quits because she's tired of doing the work of two people, and you need a job so you don't have to live with your parents. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. I believe you're capable of doing the job, and you have the personality to fit in around here. Try it out for the rest of the week to see how you feel about it. If you want it, it's yours."
She watched me for a few beats before speaking. "I feel like there's a 'but' in there somewhere."
"I don't have a hidden agenda. But I will say if you decide to take the job, we need to leave what happened between us in the past. No throwing it up in my face if you're annoyed with me about something. I would be your employer, and I don't want things to be awkward around here over a month-long fling between us twelve years ago."
Stephanie's body language relaxed and she leaned back in her chair. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, still skeptical. I couldn't blame her. It probably seemed insane that I'd even consider it after the way she behaved. Maybe it was.
"I'm a busy man and I've had a solid stream of incompetent, argumentative idiots come through this office in the last two months trying to fill this position. I'm desperate."
"How flattering."
The painkillers hadn't kicked in yet and I could feel my headache ramping up to a migraine. I rubbed my right temple and wondered if I really wanted to do this. Maybe I should just say fuck it and let her do whatever the hell she was going to do in this life. It would make my life a lot less stressful. But as I looked at her, I remembered the Stephanie from my past life. How she looked chasing down a skip. The way her face lit up when I suggested we go to Vegas to get married. Paramedics trying to revive her lifeless body on the bank of the creek. That last memory made my breath catch in my chest, and I took a sip of coffee to hide my reaction.
"What's it going to be?" I asked, glancing at the time. "I've got things to do."
Stephanie glanced around the office and blew out a sigh. "What do I need to do?" she asked, clearly resigned to the situation.
I showed her around the office, logged her into the network, asked if she had any questions, and left her to answer the phone when it rang. I stopped by the break room for another cup of coffee, which I spilled when I went to add creamer and had to spend a few minutes cleaning up. Armed with a new cup, I glanced at the clock on the wall when I got back into my office and saw that it was nine-fifteen. How was it only nine? I felt like I'd been at work for several days. I was reminded of the book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day that I'd read as a kid. He wanted to move to Australia to get away from it all. It was a tempting idea.
I took five minutes to decompress before I settled in to work. I couldn't let myself worry about Julio's reaction to the news that Stephanie had come back into my life early or the way the timeline had changed. I needed to relax so my headache would ease up and focus on the proposal I was working on. It was a job I'd lost last time and still hadn't quite figured out why. It was a privately-owned chain of twelve hospitals in the tri-state area. The owners were a married couple, two doctors who had left medical practice and were now focused on their business roles. I'd presented a proposal in my last life and had gotten down to a round of final interviews with them. We'd met for dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant in Manhattan where we had discussed the contract more thoroughly. I'd had a good feeling with the husband, but the wife had seemed uncertain. I hadn't been as polished back then. I still had long hair and an edge to my attitude that I'd managed to smooth out after another year in the corporate world. The job had gone to another provider, and I had ultimately found a silent partner to help get me off the ground in the way I wanted. I was better off this time around. I had years of experience, a much larger business, significantly more money, and knowledge that would continue to help me get ahead even if this contract didn't work out. But I really wanted this one. There hadn't been many jobs in my last life that had bothered me when we didn't win the bid. But this one had stuck with me. I just needed to figure out what happened last time so I didn't make the same mistakes.
It was almost noon when my phone rang, making me wince as it sent waves of pain across my forehead. I saw it was Stephanie calling from the front desk. I turned on the speaker phone so I could continue typing. "Are you going to lunch?" I asked.
"Uh, yeah, in a few minutes, but that wasn't what I wanted. Your mother's here to see you."
My fingers stopped moving over the keys as I took in what she said. "My mother is here to see me?"
"That's what I said."
Had I died on the way back to Trenton from Columbus? Had my car crashed on the interstate and this time I just went straight to the afterlife? I hadn't gone to heaven, but I didn't think I'd gone to the deepest pits of hell either. What was this? Some exhausting purgatory or perhaps a suburb of hell? If it wasn't, then I was definitely moving to Australia.
"Hello?" Stephanie's voice cut through my distracted thoughts.
"Bring her to my office," I said. The last thing I wanted to do right now was talk to my mother, but I didn't need my entire office knowing about the estrangement between us. I disengaged the camera in my office and waited until Stephanie knocked on the door a couple of minutes later.
"Come in," I said. Stephanie opened the door and stood aside to let my mother in. "Would either of you like a coffee or water?" she asked.
"We're fine, thank you," I said before my mother had a chance to answer. Stephanie nodded and closed the door behind her. My mother hovered behind the chairs across from my desk. I hadn't bothered to stand up. I was more concerned with keeping my emotions in check. The stress of everything had been enough to handle. Now I had to talk to my mother for the first time in five years with my head about to explode. I couldn't take much more. It reminded me why I'd kept myself so emotionally closed off in my last life. I wasn't cut out for all these feelings.
"What do you want?" I asked.
Mom winced at my tone. "I wanted to see you. I-I was hoping we could talk."
"Why?"
"Did you find the letter I—,"
"Yes."
Sensing an invitation to sit wasn't coming, she sat down in one chair and put her purse in the other one. "Carlos, I don't how to tell you how sorry I am for everything I said."
I stared back at her, pushing my emotions to the space in my head where I'd kept them when I was in Special Forces. Locked in an air-tight vault where no one could touch them, and they wouldn't be able to seep out if I was a little distracted.
"For which part? Telling me I embarrassed you? Calling my relationship unnatural and disgusting? Or for the part forbidding me to bring Julio around?" I asked coldly. "You said a lot of things."
A tear slipped down my mother's cheek, but she didn't break eye contact as she wiped it away. "All of it," she said. "Carlos— I-I spent too much time listening to the judgements of others and not enough time listening to my own heart. I was so focused on what people would say that I lost sight of what was most important, which was you. I did some counseling with Father Raúl for a while, but when he started saying the same things about your relationship that I'd said, it was hard to hear. Because I knew how I must have sounded. I found a younger priest at a different parish, Father Matthew. He's a good man, and he's very supportive of the LGBTQ population," she said, letting out a nervous laugh.
"Some of the things he said were a bit shocking because of everything I'd learned in church, but I listened and I talked to him about you and how I'd reacted. He suggested I do some volunteering with an agency in New York that helps the homeless. It's operated by a nun, Sister Mary Catherine Pietro. She helps anyone, regardless of their religion, sexual orientation, criminal history or drug use. She has taught me more in two years than I think anyone else has taught me in my entire life. I'm not sure if I can find the words to explain just how much I've learned and how much I've changed."
I could feel my pulse pounding in my temple and my entire head felt like it was trapped in a vise. My husband was suffering. The woman I'd once loved and came back to save didn't even like me. And now my mother wanted me to forgive her for turning her back on me. I was booking a flight to Australia as soon as I could get my mother out of my office.
"Is that all?" I asked in a strained voice. I needed to get out of the office for a while to clear my head, if I could ever make it stop hurting.
My mother's face fell, and she glanced down at her hands. "I love you, Carlos. You are my son, and I want you to be happy. It may be hard to believe that after everything I said, but it's the truth. I've spent a lot of the last five years thinking about the ways I've failed you, and the way I treated you when you told me about your relationship with Julio is the worst."
She started to cry in earnest now and pulled a tissue out of her purse. "I miss you. Every day."
I felt like something inside might actually snap. I stood up from my desk and put my hands in my pockets to hide the fact that I'd balled them into fists. "If that's all, I have other things to do."
The pleading look on my mother's face was unbearable. I grabbed my phone from the desk and walked around to where my coat was hanging on the coat rack. "I'll walk you out," I told her, opening the door.
She nodded, sniffled and wiped her nose with the tissue before standing up to leave. I followed her down to the lobby where Stephanie was putting on her coat. I opened the door for my mother to walk out and she paused before she stepped outside. "If you ever change your mind, you know where we are, and you're always welcome. Julio, too."
"Bye, Mom," I said, still holding the door. She stepped outside and I closed it behind her. I wanted to give her time to leave before I headed out to the car. I didn't think I could stand seeing her again. I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to do some deep breathing.
"Are you okay?" Stephanie asked.
"I have a migraine," I told her. "Are you going to lunch now?"
"Yeah. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," I said shortly.
"Okay," she said, grabbing her purse from a drawer in the desk. "Who's Julio?"
"My husband," I said absentmindedly. The look of shock on Stephanie's face made me regret saying anything. I wasn't cut out for this today.
"You're gay?" she said. "Did you know you were gay when we were together?"
"I need to go," I told her and opened the door, no longer caring if my mother was still outside.
"It's a simple yes or no question," she said, following me into the parking lot.
My head was pounding so ferociously at that point that I almost couldn't see. "I was in denial about it."
"So was I just a test drive to see what it was like with a woman?" she asked hotly.
"No. I was genuinely attracted to you," I said as I approached my car. "I was confused about my feelings for him."
"Hold on," she said, holding up a hand. "I remember you telling me that your best friend was coming to visit that Thanksgiving. Is that him?"
"Yes, it is," I said, patting my various pockets for my keys.
"When did you two get together?"
"We were together in high school," I said, annoyed that I couldn't find my keys fast enough.
"Were you together when we were together?"
"Not really," I said, my head spinning, and I closed my eyes to get my bearings.
"So were you sleeping with him when you were sleeping with me?" Stephanie asked.
"No. I hadn't slept with him since June, and I didn't sleep with him again until after the last time I slept with you. I broke it off at Thanksgiving because I wanted to be with you."
I'd been mentally retracing my steps and realized I never locked my office when I left with my mother, which meant my keys were probably still in my desk. Fuck.
"You hypocrite!" Stephanie shrieked. "You were all over my case about seeing someone else when you were doing the same thing."
"Stop yelling. No, I wasn't. I hadn't seen him since June and I broke it off so I wouldn't be a hypocrite," I said weakly. "I'm done talking about this. Go."
Stephanie was still talking to me, but I didn't hear what she said. I walked up to the front of the car and heaved from the throbbing in my head. I took some slow deep breaths and considered whether I was even in any shape to drive. Probably not. I probably should take some more painkillers and lay down on the couch in my office. I heard a car start somewhere, the engine sound reverberating in my head. I turned around to see Stephanie was gone, thankful she must have given up yelling at me. As much as I wanted out of the office, I didn't think I could safely drive. I needed to get the pain under control first. I started back towards the office, but before I could reach the door, I heard a woman's muffled screams and the screech of tires on pavement before a blinding pain rippled through my left leg and everything went black.
I woke up as I was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. My head was spinning, and my leg felt like it was on fire.
"Don't try to move," a blonde paramedic said as she climbed in next to me. "You've got a badly broken leg." Someone slammed the door at my feet, and I almost threw up.
"My head," I moaned.
"Did you hit your head?"
"I don't think so. I had a migraine before. It's just killing me."
"Okay, I'll give you something," she said, reaching for something I couldn't see. I could barely keep my eyes open from the pain. "Do you have any medication allergies?"
"No."
I felt the pinch of a needle on my hand. "I've got an IV started. Now I'll get you something for the pain. You should start getting a little relief here soon."
The jostling of the ambulance combined with the pain was making me nauseous and I heaved again. The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity as the paramedic asked me questions. I was relieved when the jostling of the ambulance stopped, but it was soon replaced by being pushed through the emergency room.
I couldn't have said how long I was in there being examined by nurses and doctors as my clothes were cut off, and I was covered with a blanket. I was given another round of painkiller through the IV along with something for the nausea. I felt the pain starting to ease as I drifted in and out of sleep. I felt myself being moved around occasionally. Sometimes I heard voices talking to each other, but couldn't make out what they were saying. I noticed after a while that my headache was finally easing up, but I was having trouble opening my eyes. I fought to get my eyes to cooperate before I finally managed to open them. I could see a nurse's station directly in front of me and two nurses were behind it talking. There was another nurse sitting in a chair next to my bed.
"How are you feeling, Carlos?" she asked, standing up to adjust something over my head.
"Okay, I think," I said. "What happened?"
"You were hit by a car and had a compound fracture in your left leg," she said. "You just had surgery on it and you're in recovery. You have some scrapes and bruises, but nothing else was broken or seriously injured. We called your husband to obtain consent for surgery since you weren't able to give it."
"Who hit me?"
"A woman from your office. She said you walked out in front of her, and she couldn't stop in time."
Stephanie. This time, I was the guy Stephanie Plum hit with her car. It might have been funny if I weren't high on painkillers.
"What time is it?"
"It's eight in the evening."
I was still groggy but thankfully the headache was gone, and I couldn't seem to feel anything in my left leg. That would change, but for now I would enjoy the bliss of nothingness. I was transferred to another recovery area for a while and the surgeon came out to see me. He explained the surgery, and that there was a rod in my lower left leg helping to stabilize the bone that would likely need to be there for several months, possibly up to a year. I was being admitted to monitor for any complications from the accident and surgery and was told to expect full recovery to take three to six months.
Once I was settled in a room, the nurse told me a man from my office was waiting to see me and asked if I was up for a visitor. I told her yes, and Rowan appeared in my room a few minutes later.
"They gave me your stuff while you were in surgery," he said, handing me a plastic bag. "They had to cut your clothes off, so I checked the pockets and then had them thrown away. Your gun's locked up at the office. Julio's on his way. His flight left Atlanta an hour ago. I'm sending Jake to pick him up in Newark."
"Thanks. How's Stephanie?"
"Freaked out. She was heading to lunch when you walked right out in front of her. We caught it on the parking lot camera. She said you had a migraine and must not have been paying attention. You looked pretty rough."
I nodded. "I decided I wasn't in any shape to drive and was coming back in to get my headache under control. I didn't see her."
"Anything you need me to get?" he asked.
"My keys out of my desk. Julio will need them to get into the apartment and use my car."
"It's in the parking garage. I sent the keys with Jake. I figured Julio will want to see you first so it might as well be here waiting for him. I cleared your schedule for the rest of this week and all of next week. Tank, Kim, and I are already figuring out how to split up your work until you're ready to come back."
I owed Rowan a bonus. "Thanks. I'll try to work from home when I can. If you need something, call me."
"Will do, boss."
A nurse brought in a dinner tray a few minutes later in case I was hungry. I managed a few bites of a chicken sandwich and steamed broccoli before pushing the tray away. I dozed for a while, waking up when I felt someone kiss me on the head. I opened my eyes and found Julio standing over me.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned etched on his face.
"Not too bad. What time is it?"
"Almost eleven."
He pulled a green chair over to the side of the bed and sat down. "Rowan said you walked out in front of a car."
"I had a migraine. I was going back inside and didn't see her."
"Do you know who hit you?"
"Stephanie," I told him. "She works for the staffing agency and came to work at the office today. Shocked the hell out of me, especially when she started calling me an arrogant asshole."
Julio's eyebrows shot up. "Stephanie Plum? How the hell did that happen? And why was she calling you an asshole?"
I shook my head. "I think I've messed up the timeline too much to know what's coming anymore," I said. "I remembered she did some temp work after she got laid off, but never paid attention to what agency she used. Never considered it might be the one we were using. As for the yelling, we have differing opinions on how things ended between us in college. I remember it being civil. She remembers me being a dick."
"Are you sure it was an accident?"
"I'm sure. The cameras saw it. I walked out in front of her. She tried to stop."
Julio leaned back in his seat and shook his head. "Damn."
"It gets better. My mother came to visit me right before that."
"Did you break a mirror or something this morning?" he asked.
"I thought maybe I'd died driving back from Columbus and was in some sort of messed up purgatory or mild version of hell."
"What did your mom want?"
"To apologize."
"How did that go?"
I spent the next few minutes telling him about my visit with my mother and went into further details about my conversation with Stephanie. I shifted in bed and winced. My whole body hurt. Julio looked pained as he watched, and I could tell he was getting caught up in whatever was running through his mind.
"Babe, relax. It'll be okay."
I squeezed his hand and watched him closely, worried about what this would do to his already fragile mental state.
"How long are they keeping you?" he asked in a distracted voice.
"A day or two. How long until you have to get back to work?"
A miserable expression crossed his face, and he closed his eyes. "I'm not going back. I got fired."
Julio was popular amongst his coworkers and was a diligent worker, so this was surprising. "What happened?" I asked.
"I've missed too much work," he said, staring at our joined hands as he spoke. "I've gotten a couple of warnings and was told if I missed any more that wasn't excused by a doctor that I'd be fired. When I told Shelia today about your accident, she called HR to see if it would be considered excused, but they said no. I'll be getting a call in a day or two to make it official."
"I don't understand. You missed a few days when your grandfather died, but you said you used your PTO and the bereavement days they gave you to cover it. Why would they count that against you?"
He shook his head and leaned back, pulling his hand out of mine. "It isn't that," he said, rubbing the inside of his left wrist where he had tattooed our last name after we got married. "I've called off about once a week since then."
"Why did you need to call off?"
Julio screwed up his face and looked away. He took a couple of shaky breaths and fidgeted in his seat. "I called off because I was too hungover to go in," he said in a strained voice, rubbing the inside of his wrist more vigorously and focusing his gaze on the floor.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Why hadn't I considered the possibility that he was drinking again? He had been sober for over nine years. He occasionally talked about the urge to drink but had always found a way to overcome it by staying busy or smoking a cigarette. I mentally groaned as I remembered the times I'd come home over the last few weeks to find the ashtray on the balcony full of cigarette butts, and how Julio had started going out to smoke several times a day whenever I was home. I had taken his sobriety for granted and had attributed his increased smoking to his depression and grief. I had failed to consider that my absence during the week meant I didn't know as much about what was going on in his life as I thought. And with Mike and Jenny out of the apartment complex, there was no one coming over regularly who might notice and say something. Kyle didn't know about Julio's alcoholism and probably would have encouraged him to keep drinking anyway.
Julio was staring at the floor and biting the inside of his cheek. "Babe," I said, waiting until he made eye contact to continue. "It's going to be okay. We'll get through this."
He shook his head again and sniffed. "I'm sorry," he said, choking back a sob. "You're out here working your ass off, and I'm at home fucking my life up."
I reached over to grab his hand and pulled him towards me. "Come here," I said. He sat down on the bed next to me and I wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry, too" I said. "I'm sorry I didn't even stop to consider you might be drinking again. I'm sorry I haven't been home more. I should have pushed harder for you to go to the doctor."
Julio pulled back and shook his head. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about. I did this to myself."
"I feel like I've failed you," I said. "I'm your husband. We're supposed to be looking out for each other, and I've been too busy working to see this was happening."
"I almost told you over the weekend," he said. "But then you got called about the break-in and that guy in the office, and I didn't want to dump more problems on you."
I ran a hand over the soft, short hair on the back of his head. "Julio Manoso, you are my number one priority. Not work, not Stephanie. You. A break-in and a dumbass kid at my office will never be more important than you."
He nodded and picked at the blanket on the bed. "I love you," he said quietly. "I probably haven't acted like it lately, but I do. More than anything."
"I know you do, and I feel the same way." I glanced up at the clock and saw it was almost midnight. "Go get some sleep. We'll talk more tomorrow."
I didn't manage much sleep that night between the nurse coming in every couple of hours, the pain that was now working its way past the morphine and playing over Julio's confession and the times I'd seen him in the last couple of months. I felt like an idiot. Of course someone who was already depressed, then grieving the loss of a relative would be at higher risk of relapse. He may not think I had anything to be sorry for, but I did. I'd told him work would never be more important than him, but it had been. I hadn't consciously done it, but I'd spent more time focused on buying office buildings and client meetings than I had on what else might be going on in his life besides the obvious.
At seven-thirty, I grabbed my phone and messaged my doctor about Julio. I'd started using the same concierge doctor I had in my last life when I started spending half my time in Trenton. He had been an ER doctor for fifteen years before switching to his current program. He was thorough and didn't ask unnecessary questions. I had just finished my message when there was a knock on my door, and Stephanie appeared a few seconds later. "Hey," she said nervously. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."
"Not too bad. How are you?"
She blew out a sigh and looked around the room. "I feel bad. I tried to stop."
"It wasn't your fault. I wasn't paying attention."
"You said you had a migraine. Do you get those a lot?" she asked.
"No, I've just had a lot going on recently. Are you going back to the office today?"
"I wasn't sure if you'd want me to. I figured running you over might make you reconsider," she said.
"The offer still stands, but I meant what I said before. I'm done discussing the past."
Stephanie nodded. "I'm sorry I was yelling at you. Again. I'm sure that didn't help anything."
I waved away her apology. "It's done. I'd rather just move on. Finish out the week and let me know if you want the job. Rowan and Kim will tell you what to do. They're redistributing my work for a couple of weeks, so things may be different than what was on the task list."
Stephanie left a few minutes later when my breakfast arrived. I ate the eggs and toast and had just moved onto an orange when Julio came in the room. He was carrying two coffees in a holder and handed me one.
"Thanks," I said. "Did you get any sleep?"
"A little bit," he said with a yawn. "How about you?"
"The pain flared up, and this isn't exactly the most comfortable position to sleep in," I said, gesturing at my leg, which was bound up in a temporary splint that ran up to my mid-thigh and elevated in a sling. I would get a cast before I was sent home.
"You'll be in PT for a while," he said. "Especially since you're young and working a job that requires a high level of fitness. But you gotta let that heal. Don't be trying to walk on it before the doctor says so. It'll get displaced and then you may never get it back to where it was before, even with more surgery and hardware. I saw it happen a lot when I was still in the Army. Happens with kids too, but they heal faster, and the little ones don't have their growth plates closed yet."
"Then it's a good thing I've got you at home," I said. "You'll be on my case if I'm not doing what I'm supposed to."
He gave me a small smile and drank his coffee. He was uneasy, probably worried about whatever I'd have to say after a few hours of contemplating his admission.
"I messaged my doctor about seeing you as soon as possible," I told him. "I should hear back from him soon."
Julio nodded and studied the lid of his coffee cup. "How pissed off are you?"
"I'm not angry, but I am hurt that you wouldn't listen to me when I told you repeatedly that you needed help. And that you've been hiding this from me. We're going to have to rebuild some trust."
He nodded. "I know. I don't trust me either."
"Now that you're out of a job, there's no reason for you to keep living in Columbus. Being apart isn't good for either of us," I said. "I won't be going down there for a while, and I don't really need to be there as often anymore."
"Yeah, I know. At least now I'll be here to look at houses with you. Especially anything not on the ground floor."
"Not unless you want to carry me upstairs," I suggested.
"Only if we both have a death wish."
Julio's attempt at a smile faltered, and he tried to hide it behind his coffee cup. He looked defeated, and I hated seeing him like that. I crooked a finger at him, and he set his cup on the floor before coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. I put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled his mouth down to mine. His kiss was hesitant and gentle, and I pushed my tongue between his teeth to deepen it. I felt him relax and he wrapped an arm around me to pull me closer. I couldn't remember the last time we had done anything more than a quick kiss as I headed out the door. We pulled apart after a minute and I was glad to see he looked less anxious.
"We need to do that more often," I said.
"Yeah, and maybe if I get my shit figured out, I can give you a lot more than that here soon," he said.
"That'll be interesting if I'm still in a cast. We may have to get creative."
My doctor's office responded a while later, saying he could see Julio at one-thirty that afternoon. He stayed at the hospital until it was time to go to the appointment and promised to be forthcoming about everything he had been experiencing in the last few months. I tried to take a nap after he left but was awoken almost immediately by the physical therapist. She asked me questions and talked about what she would be helping me with at the hospital. She took my leg out of the sling and helped me learn how to best maneuver it since I wouldn't be able to bend my knee for a few weeks. The last thing I needed was to pull a muscle or fall out of bed. She left half an hour later and before I could even attempt to take a nap, there was another knock on the door.
"I didn't believe Costanza at first when he told me you got run over by Stephanie Plum," Morelli said when he came into the room. "But I guess it must be true."
"It was an accident."
"You sure about that? I heard they had her on camera yelling at you right before it happened."
"We have differing opinions on the way things went between us in college, but she agreed to put it behind us so we can work together without it being awkward."
Morelli took the seat Julio had occupied earlier and raised an eyebrow. "You're giving her a job?"
"She's trying it out this week, but if she likes it, she can have it."
"I never pegged you for a masochist," he said, leaning back and crossing his legs at the ankle.
"Desperate is more like it. And I think she'll fit in okay. She won't be throwing herself at my men or trying to cause problems in the office."
"Except with you."
"I'm holding her to her word that she'll let it go."
"Better you than me. Mooch wanted to bring the poker game to you last night. He figured the only way he'd ever be able to beat you was if you were high on painkillers," he said.
I snorted. "Mooch is terrible at poker. I still could have beat him, even high on painkillers. He would have had a better chance if he'd caught me earlier in the day when I had a migraine. I could barely function. It was the reason I didn't see Stephanie's car as I was walking."
"I won't tell him that. He might spike your drink trying to cause one."
Morelli was still there when Julio returned. They had never met, though I'd spoken to them about the other one. They shook hands and made small talk for a few minutes before Morelli left, saying he had to get back to work.
"How did it go?" I asked once Morelli was gone.
"Good. He got my medical history, and I told him everything that was going on. He agreed with you that I'm depressed and gave me a prescription and ordered some blood work. Said there are other things that can cause all these symptoms. I'll get it done in the morning."
"Glad to hear it. Now what do you need to do about your drinking? You told me you went to therapy last time."
Julio shrugged. "I don't know if they can tell me anything I don't already know. I just stopped doing it."
"You need to deal with your grandfather's death. I think you should see someone. Might help more than you think. Unless you plan to go to AA meetings."
Julio wrinkled his nose. "Tried that, didn't like it."
"Then therapy it is. Dr. Ali should be able to refer you to someone."
Julio looked like he wanted to argue, but realized he wasn't in a position to do so.
"And we need a plan in place for times when you feel like drinking and what you normally do isn't working," I continued. "I don't care what time it is or where I am. If you feel like you can't resist the urge, you call or text me, and I'll stop what I'm doing to talk to you."
He nodded in agreement. "I have a couple of bottles hidden in the apartment. I texted Mike earlier and asked if he could go over and dump them out. He said he'd stop by on his way home from work."
"Where were they?"
"There was a bottle of rum in my bedside table wrapped up in an old t-shirt. I had a pint of vodka hidden in the freezer in a box of garlic bread," he said sheepishly. "I figured you wouldn't be looking in either of those places."
"You're right. I wouldn't be, but I will be now."
We spent the next couple of hours discussing the move from Columbus and whether we should have a house first or just store the furniture until we found something. I had an appointment with the realtor on Thursday to look at a couple of houses in Hamilton Township. We decided Julio would keep the appointment, arranged for the realtor to pick him up since he wasn't familiar with the area, and spent some time looking through the property listings online. I was exhausted by the time my dinner tray was delivered, and I could see the fatigue in Julio's face as well. I told him to go home and relax. I hoped to get some sleep after dinner and not be disturbed again until morning except for the normal nurse checks.
I felt like I could relax now that he'd gone to the doctor and something was going to be done. I knew it was just the beginning and there might be bumps in the road, but at least we were on the road again, and I no longer felt the urge to run away to Australia.
A/N: If I had chapter titles, this would have been called Carlos and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.