Authors: Jessi Gage
They must have the wrong room.
She’d gotten a card from Helping Hand and a small arrangement from the staff at Enterprise, the high school she worked for, that her mother had taken home due to the ICU’s strict no-flowers policy. That had been more than she’d expected.
“Ms. Arlington?” the delivery person said.
She nodded.
Cade stood up and took the vase. He slipped the delivery person a couple small bills and set the vase on the rolly table in front of her. The arrangement blocked her view of the room, wall-mounted TV and all.
“Got a boyfriend I don’t know about?” he joked, but all levity had drained out of her along with the blood from her face. The silver envelope poking out of the bouquet had two letters printed on it in bold, black ink.
DG.
“Cams? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Not seen one. Been one.
She blinked, clearing the silly thought. Surely this had to be some misunderstanding. These flowers couldn’t possibly be from the man she’d been working so hard to convince herself didn’t exist.
Cade spotted the card. He reached for it, no doubt thinking to help her.
She shot out her good arm and grabbed it first, ignoring the flare of pain it caused along her spine.
He raised an eyebrow but wisely said nothing.
“I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to watch some TV,” she said.
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll go get some lunch. Be back in a while.”
There had been a few precious years between being rivals and strangers when she and Cade been close. As he left her to her privacy, she hoped they’d get back to that place again.
With the TV off and her tinnitus fading, her IMCU room was eerily quiet compared to the room upstairs with all its machinery. When her finger tore open the envelope, it sounded like an avalanche. The pounding of her heart was like a frantic beat on a bass drum. With shaking hands, she extracted a sheet of plain white, eight and a half inch by eleven inch paper folded twice. Smoothing it open, she saw tight slanting handwriting covering three quarters of one side. Her eyes darted to the signature. The writing in the body was print, but the signature was in cursive.
Derek
, with a large, confident
D
.
A sob cut through the quiet. Hers. A knife of longing that wouldn’t be repressed a moment longer sliced up through the layers of her soul. She hadn’t read a single word he’d written except his name, yet wonderful peace blanketed her. He was real. They’d really been together. It was somehow both impossible and true.
Which meant he was the one who had cut her off last Friday.
The blanket of peace billowed up and threatened to drift away on a gust of hurt, but she refused to let it go. She’d never had any illusions Derek was perfect. And she remembered how strong his guilt had been. It had been stamped on his face in somber lines and seared into his subconscious in the form of nightmares.
Would she still have comforted him if she’d known the dreams were because he’d acted aggressively on the road and she’d been the target of that aggression? Yes. She forgave him before she’d ever known he’d wronged her, before she’d known she’d been wronged at all. One bad decision didn’t make a person bad.
Her heart full and sore, she read the words on the page.
Camilla, my sweet DG,
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for cutting you off. I’m sorry for how bad you must be hurting. I’m sorry I never told you I love you. I hope you haven’t changed your mind about loving me, but if you have, well, that’s understandable. If that’s the case, just so you know where I’m coming from, I plan on winning back your heart.
I wanted to see you yesterday but chickened out. I’m good at running from the messes I make. It’s something I’m working on. Those aren’t just words. I really am working on owning up to my mistakes. I enrolled in an anger management class at the community center. It starts in 2 weeks and runs for 4, meetings on Tues. and Th. nights. By the time the class is over, we should be finished in civil court, and I’d really like to see you then, that is, if the judge for traffic court–I got my court date, it’s next Wednesday–doesn’t put me in jail for a little while. It’s okay if that happens, by the way. I definitely deserve it, and I’ll manage.
On that note, please know I will cooperate with whatever you want as far as a settlement for your medical expenses. I have no problem with you suing me if that’s what you decide, but I want you to know it’s truly not necessary. I have some savings, and if that’s not enough, I’ll find a way to put together whatever you need moneywise. Just name what you need, and it’s yours, along with my heart.
Please convey my apology to your brother for giving him a hard time. I didn’t realize he was your brother when I ran into him at the ICU yesterday, not that it’s any excuse. It’s just–I’m serious about you, and I don’t want to be on bad terms with your family, though I guess I already am since you’re in that bed because of me.
I think you’ll forgive me, because you’re compassionate and sweet and the gentlest person I’ve ever met, but if being in touch with me upsets your family, or if you just can’t stand to have me around, tell me to take a hike. I’ll understand. I won’t like it, but I’ll understand. But you’re going to have to tell me. I’m not going to run anymore. I’m here. Take me.
Yours in every way,
Derek
Below his signature he’d written his phone number and email address.
She read the letter three times, a new layer of emotion assaulting her with each pass. Elation at his tender, confident words, confusion at his mention of Cade and a lawsuit, then fury as she understood he must have come to the ICU yesterday like she’d requested and been sent away. By Cade.
She grabbed her phone and dialed.
* * * *
The walkthrough was over. Days of work tension slid off Derek’s shoulders as the last of the architects and engineers drove off the lot. It hadn’t gone perfectly, but the list of questions and problems he had to address before the next project update meeting wasn’t long enough to crash his computer, so he figured the event had been a general success.
He got back to his desk at 2:30 and settled in with his lunch bag and a bottled water. A mountain of work had piled up since he’d been in and out of the office during such a busy time. Maybe it had been pushing his luck with Jibb’s to come in late this morning so he could take care of some things he’d needed to do, but he was here now, and he hoped that after his court date next Wednesday, he’d be back to his usual 6:30 to 3:30 schedule. Wincing, he shoved away the fear that he might be calling Jerry Jibb while wearing an orange jumpsuit to tell him he’d be out of the office not just for a morning or an afternoon but for a whole year.
He’d be lucky to be let back as a laborer after an absence like that. But his job wasn’t the worst of his worries when he thought about going to jail. He would miss weekends with his Haley-girl. And he’d have to wait a whole year to see Camilla again, if she’d let him see her at all.
After his talk with Deidre last night, he’d thought a lot about Camilla. He’d made a lot of assumptions when he’d left the hospital yesterday, the biggest one being he might be doing her a favor by letting her brother push him out of her life. How could he let some other guy dictate what would or wouldn’t make Camilla happy? He’d decided right then, he wouldn’t rest until he heard from her own mouth–or from her notepad or whatever, if she was still on a breathing tube–that she’d be happier without him. So he’d put his heart in a letter and sent it off with some roses this morning after signing up for that anger management class. The ball was in her court now. He could only wait. And hope.
Sitting down at his desk, he pulled his personal cell phone out of the drawer where he’d shoved it so it wouldn’t distract him during the walkthrough. He had a new message. Probably Deidre, since he’d texted her just before the walkthrough, to check on Haley. He dialed up voicemail. It was from Officer Reynolds.
“Got a call from Ms. Arlington this afternoon. I must be crazy to pass this along to you, but what can I say, I like you, Mr. Summers. Seems Mr. fancy-pants lawyer is in the doghouse. Ms. Arlington claims she never hired her brother in a professional capacity and now that she’s off her breathing tube, she plans to give him heck for it–her words. I’d give him something else, it were up to me. Also, interesting fact. She’s been upgraded to IMCU. That’s on the fourth floor. Another interesting fact. IMCU doesn’t have a family-only visitation policy. Just thought you’d like to know. So long, Mr. Summers. You take care.”
A smile stuck on his face as he deleted the message. Looked like no-nonsense Reynolds was a softy deep down. And Camilla had gotten his flowers.
He couldn’t fault Cade for overstepping his bounds yesterday; Derek would probably be the same way if he had a sister. He could respect a man being protective of the women in his life. But Camilla didn’t need protecting from him, especially now that he’d decided to make some changes in his life. He’d do his best to prove that to Cade, though it would take time. Camilla, on the other hand… Nothing would stop him from making sure she knew she could count on him, especially now that he had a green light to go see her.
Unfortunately, that green light had come from Reynolds, not Camilla. He’d bet anything she’d punched his number into her phone and stared at it for a good long while before chickening out and calling Reynolds instead. She was the same DG he’d known, brave and afraid at the same time, independent and needy, desperate to plunge into the unknown but so certain she didn’t deserve whatever greatness awaited her that she’d never take the leap.
The contradictions were what made her special. She constantly pushed back against who she thought she was supposed to be, as if her spirit refused to settle. Every second of every day Camilla fought against a past that bogged her down, a past he’d witnessed and planned to help her overcome.
He’d meant every word in that letter, including his certainty she would forgive him for cutting her off last Friday. But forgiveness didn’t mean she was ready to see him. Otherwise, she would have pushed through her insecurity and made that call.
She might be afraid to take a leap of faith, but he wasn’t afraid to give her a gentle push.
Ready or not, Camilla, here I come.
* * * *
Cami was such a coward. First she couldn’t bring herself to send the call through to Derek’s number, choosing instead to call Officer Reynolds to get the scoop on Cade’s presumptuous behavior yesterday afternoon. Then Cade had returned from lunch, and the rebuke she’d practiced in her head fizzled out at the sight of him strolling in with a big smile on his face, a smile just for her. A smile her heart had craved for eight years.
After reading Derek’s letter, she’d desperately wanted to see him. But after talking herself out of the only two endeavors she’d taken on today, she realized something. Derek might be the same person she remembered from their nights together, but she was not the DG he knew.
DG didn’t give up when faced with doubts and insecurities. She was brave, bold, and sexy, all the things Cami could never be because she let herself get bound up in chains of guilt. The real Cami constantly sought approval and retreated at the first sign of opposition. She’d even given up on an eight-year self-imposed freeway ban because she hadn’t wanted to let down a woman she hardly knew.
Derek would hate the real Cami. He’d be disgusted with her meekness and indecisiveness. His confident, dominant personality would steamroll her. Someone like her could never make someone like him happy.
The intimacy they’d shared had been possible because she hadn’t known who she was. Freed from her past, she’d been what Derek needed. He’d been having nightmares because his conscience had required some heavy-duty house cleaning. The last night they’d had together, the night she’d woken from her coma, he’d acknowledged his guilt. That had been her purpose, to help him get to that point. Since he had, he had no need for DG. Maybe that’s why she’d woken up when she had.
Her time with Derek was over. Trying to prolong it would just hurt them both.
Cade had taken over the visitor’s chair and TV, again. She should thank him for coming between her and Derek yesterday. He’d saved them both a lot of awkwardness. Unfortunately, knowing it didn’t stop sadness from dragging her mood into the gutter.
To keep from sinking any lower, she drank in her brother’s appearance. Every time her eyes lit on him, a little thrill went through her. She could hardly believe he’d come. But his behavior yesterday soured her enjoyment. A woman worthy of Derek would call Cade on it, but not her. She would maintain the status quo and be thankful her brother had come at all.