Nash turned his key in the front door and opened it. Work at the hospital had been awful, what with everyone knowing so much about his business. Even the damned patients knew about the ongoing drama in his personal life and weighed in with their unwanted opinions. Maintaining a professional demeanor had never been a bigger challenge.
Even so, walking in the front door at home was something he dreaded even more than facing the stares and the sharply ending conversations when he approached people at work. Sam’s indecision was wearing down his last nerve.
At this point, he was almost beyond caring which way it went, he just needed a final verdict. That was a truly baffling feeling, because losing Sam would literally shatter him. Two years, they’d been together. Nash had so many hopes and dreams tied up in this relationship. Everything he wanted in life was finally coming together.
Sam sat in the living room, staring blankly out a window at the lake beyond. Nash stole a glance at the fireplace mantle. Yep, the photos were askew. Again. Did the man do anything anymore other than stare at old photos of himself and Henry?
At least the photos with Nash and Sam together were knocked awry of their usual tidy placement, too. That had to mean something. Sam did love him; Nash didn’t doubt that. It was the only reason he held onto hope.
“Have you made a decision?” Nash got straight to the point.
Sam jumped, apparently not even hearing Nash come in. “Oh. You’re home.” His brows came together, relaying his confusion. “What time is it?”
Nash sighed. “Around seven. Regular time for me to be back from work.”
Sam said nothing, so Nash pushed on. “So? Have you made a decision?”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt either of you.” His voice trailed off, and he turned back to stare out the window. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.
“You know. After five years, he’s not going to be the same person you remember. He may not even want to come back to you.”
Sam remained silent, and Nash plopped onto the couch.
* * * *
Nash jolted awake, recoiling in place as if he’d just fallen.
Then the mattress moved as Emmitt knelt over him, fully dressed, brows drawn together communicating his concern. “Sorry I woke you,” he whispered. “Are you feeling okay? Is there anything I can get you?”
Was he doing any better? “I think…maybe a bit better, thanks. Got some sleep, anyway. Tylenol would be nice, if you’re not in a rush.”
“I’ll be right back. I’ll get you a fresh drink.”
Nash sat up and shook the cobwebs out of his head. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was just after five AM, so Emmitt hadn’t been called in; he was preparing to leave for early rounds.
The Tylenol bottle was on the nearer nightstand with a glass of water that must’ve been sitting there all night since Emmitt said he was fetching a fresh drink. Not that there was anything wrong with water that had been sitting out overnight, so Emmitt was probably pouring some more of that electrolyte stuff he’d been pushing. Nash popped open the bottle and tapped out a couple pills, ready for Emmitt’s return.
The dream still pissed him off. Nash shook his head again, wanting to put it out of his mind. If there was one thing he didn’t want to think about anymore, it was that terrible week of being in limbo, waiting for Sam to choose. Of course, now that he could reflect more calmly on the time, he did understand Sam’s dilemma. Perspective had been more difficult to achieve when he’d been going through it the first time, though.
How pathetic Nash had been, planting doubt in Sam’s head when he probably should have just…just…
Just nothing! What difference did it make? It was a missing memory! Nash slapped his good hand on the mattress. What had happened after that? Had Sam replied?
“Here you go.” Emmitt stepped around the bed, switched on Nash’s bedside lamp, and sat next to him. “What’s the matter? You look agitated.”
“My dream.” Nash grinned and bounced a little on the mattress. “It’s great. I mean, it wasn’t a good memory, but it was from my missing time. That first week after where my memory left off.”
Emmitt’s eyes widened. “That’s good. Is it limited to that early week?”
Nash nodded. “It’s not even the whole week. I remembered a conversation, but can’t even think how it ended. I’ve kind of got a grip on what happened up to that point, but it cuts off again.”
Emmitt handed Nash the glass he’d brought, then glanced at the clock and sighed. “Damn, I have only a couple minutes, then I really need to get going. I’m sorry, I’d love the chance to talk more about it…and about last night. I don’t want to jump to the wrong conclusion about your reaction when you saw me, but…human nature, right?
“I just want to say that if you need me to give you more space, just say the word. I don’t want you to feel obligated just because you’ve got a big heart and don’t want to hurt me. I’m a big boy, and if you want out, I’ll manage.”
Emmitt’s face wasn’t giving any clues. Was he hoping Nash would back out? He was, wasn’t he? A sob tore through Nash before he realized it was building. Fuck his out-of-control emotions. He’d be so goddamned happy when that Oxy was completely gone from his system.
“Please just tell me.” Emmitt’s eyes misted.
“I’m just so afraid I’m going to lose you.” Nash snuffled, and his words rushed out in a frenetic stream. “I’m a sniveling sweaty mess, and he’s so fucking gorgeous, and nice, and everything you could want, and I’m so worthless and ugly, and you probably feel like you’re stuck with me now, because you’re too scrupulous to break it off with someone when they’re down.”
“Holy hell.” Emmitt’s jaw dropped, and he took the wavering glass from Nash’s trembling hand and set it on the nightstand. He wrapped his arms around Nash. “I had that completely backward. No, no, my darling man. Let me assure you that you and only you are the one I want.” Emmitt petted Nash’s perspiration-soaked hair and dropped a kiss on his brow. “I’ve watched you for years. How you’ve treated everyone around you—your fellow nurses, physicians, patients, housekeeping…everyone—and I’ve admired your integrity, your genuine concern for people’s well-being, and your work ethic.
“On top of that, I developed such a strong physical attraction for you, I was constantly torn between wanting to be around you, and being afraid of losing my professionalism when you were near.” Emmitt leaned back to peer into Nash’s eyes. “You’ll be rid of me only if you decide to end this. I told you once that I wasn’t interested in hooking up with random pretty boys. I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
Nash’s quivering smile busted through his tears, and he sucked in an undignified load of snot. Emmitt loved him back.
Emmitt touched his jaw and lightly kissed his lips. “Better?”
Nash nodded. “Yeah.” Fuck Percy and his come-hither smiles. His fiancé loved him!
Emmitt picked up the loose tablets on the nightstand and handed them to Nash. He popped them in his mouth, then took a big gulp of Emmitt’s electrolyte brew.
“Now back under the covers with you,” Emmitt said. “You don’t need to be up this early.”
Nash allowed himself to be tucked into bed. He closed his eyes as Emmitt’s footsteps faded. The door clicked shut, and he thought of happier memories than fighting with Sam. Thoughts of Emmitt’s tenderness while helping Nash with his first bath when he’d returned from the hospital. Memories of Emmitt’s quirky smile as they showered together, playfully kissing under the steady flow of water beneath the rain shower fixture.
* * * *
Nash was washing his hand at the sink after using the toilet when there was a firm knock at the bedroom door. It could only be Percy. Grampy couldn’t have come up those stairs, and his knock wouldn’t be that loud and demanding.
Whatever. “Come in,” Nash called. Emmitt loved him, not Percy. Didn’t matter what Percy might want.
Percy wore another cheery smile. “Good morning!”
Fine. Nash didn’t bother pasting on a phony smile, but he could play nice. “Good morning.”
Percy stepped through the bedroom to join Nash in the bathroom. “Don’t worry, Bernie is comfortable in a recliner and watching some cooking competition show.” Percy held up a small handheld receiver. “And there’s an audio monitor turned on in case he needs anything.”
Kudos to Captain Responsible. “I’m fine. You can keep him company. I’ll be down in a half hour or so.”
The jaunty smile wavered for a moment. “Sorry, but Myles specified that he wants me to help you out this morning. It’s a good idea, Nash. You’re still a bit shaky, so you’re a ‘fall risk.’”
“I’ll be slow and careful.” Nash tightened his jaw. He wasn’t going to back down.
Percy’s smile vanished. “Look, I really need this job. I’ve got to follow orders, so please let me help. I promise I’ll do only the bare minimum to keep you safe.”
Cunning bastard. Nash didn’t have it in him to be the cause of someone losing their job. Not even Percy. He sighed. “Fine. Do what you want.”
The grin reappeared, and Percy walked to the tub. “Great!” His voice was downright chirpy. “I’ll get this filled for you. You can get undressed, and I’ll strip the bed while it fills. Stay sitting in the dressing room when you’re done, though. I want to help you step into the tub.”
Nash rolled his eyes. “I’m going to brush my teeth first, then I’ll get undressed.”
“Perfect.” Percy stepped to the sink, apparently figuring out it was best to just do things for Nash rather than ask if he wanted help, and loaded his toothbrush for him. “Here you go.”
If he was going to be honest with himself, Nash had to admit he appreciated the help. Doing things one-handed was difficult even when he wasn’t unsteady.
In the end, Nash figured he deserved a reward for making it through the bathing and dressing routine without biting poor Mr. Helpful’s head off.
As they walked downstairs, Percy’s chirpy tone returned as he declared, “We’re back, Bernie. How about I make us a big breakfast so you’ll have the energy to face your physical therapist when she gets here?”
Bernie’s familiar smile graced his face. He didn’t seem at all put out at the sight of Nash, so hopefully yesterday’s disastrous homecoming scene hadn’t done any damage to their relationship.
“Wonderful,” Grampy said. “I’ve been working up an appetite watching this show. Come and join me, Nash. Some of these recipes look easy enough even greenhorns like us might be able to handle them.”
Nash couldn’t help but return the infectious smile. He joined Grampy and leaned down to kiss the older man’s weathered cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered, then sat in the adjacent chair.
“Eh, no worries. Emmitt explained everything. Anyway, I knew you before your brain got temporarily fried, so I know what you’re really like.”
“That’s the worst part. I can handle feeling physically ill better than not being able to think straight or control my emotions.”
“I’m just glad coming off those pills didn’t affect me that way. Lordy, that must be awful.”
Clanging pans, and eventually the smell of bacon wafted over, and Nash was almost inclined to forgive Percy for his existence, even if he was after Emmitt. Who could blame him, after all?
Since Nash had been assured Emmitt had no return interest in Perky Percy, it no longer mattered. It wouldn’t hurt him to be more civil to the poor guy. At least, that’s the sensible rationale he would try to take to heart.
* * * *
“Is there any more of this pork tenderloin?” Emmitt asked. “It’s delicious.”
“Thank you, Myles!” Percy flashed a merry grin and jumped out of his seat like the devious fiancé-stealing bastard he aspired to be. “Yes, there’s a little bit more.”
Emmitt stood, too. “You can sit down, Percy. You’re off duty. I’ll get it.” The return smile he aimed at Percy was a little too friendly for Nash’s liking.
Percy sat down, but looked pleased, nonetheless. Nash’s jaw tightened. No, he wasn’t going to say anything. These feelings were irrational. But, dammit, Emmitt liked eating nice food—who didn’t?—and Percy was capable of cooking it. Meanwhile Nash had been struggling to learn how to make the simplest of meals. He was trying, though. Shouldn’t he get credit for that?
Fuck it. “Grampy and I found the recipe. It looks like something I should be able to make for you once I’m well enough.” The words came out sounding a bit more cross than he’d intended. Goddammit. And now he sounded like a needy whiny bitch. His face warmed with embarrassment.
Percy turned his smile in Nash’s direction. “It was a simple recipe. I’m sure you’ll be able to recreate it.”
Condescending son-of-a-bitch. Embarrassment turned to resentment. “I’m not an idiot. I’m pretty sure I can follow directions as well as you.”
Percy’s mouth dropped open. “I…I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t.” He bit his lip and cast a nervous glance toward Emmitt in the kitchen, then turned back to Nash. “Please accept my sincere apology. It was a poor choice of wording.”
“Sure. No problem.” Just quit trying to put moves on my fiancé.
Grampy’s head tilted as he regarded Nash curiously. Then a little grin appeared on his face, but he didn’t say anything.
Emmitt’s hand landed briefly on Nash’s shoulder as he walked to his seat. “I think things will look better to you tomorrow, Nash. You seem to be past the peak, now.”
“Yes,” Percy agreed. “Your color is better than it was even this morning, and you’ve said the nausea’s improved.”
Nash’s face heated even more, and he bit back what he thought about the man seeming to want to pony onto everything Emmitt said. Brown-nosing suck-up.
Nash clenched his good hand as he fought to maintain control and be reasonable. It didn’t matter what Percy wanted. Emmitt had said he only wanted Nash.
But what if Emmitt had been humoring him? What if…
“Has Percy told you about his girlfriend, Nash?” Grampy asked with a gleam of amusement in his eye. “He was telling me all about her during your nap earlier this afternoon.”
“His…” Nash felt like a fish with his mouth hanging open. “What?”
Percy shook his head nervously. “Oh, I don’t think Nash would be interested.”
Nash turned to Percy, “You’ve got a girlfriend?
The man bristled. “I don’t think it’s that hard to believe.”
“What’s her name?” Emmitt asked.
“Opal. It’s kind of old-fashioned. She was named after her grandmother.”
A girlfriend. Percy had a fucking girlfriend. He’d been jealous of a straight guy? All this time Percy was just a legitimately nice guy slogging along, trying to be friendly to the people in his care and the man who’d hired him?
“It’s…it’s a nice name,” Nash murmured. What an ass he’d been. “She’s a lucky woman.”
Grampy winked at Nash. Emmitt appeared relieved, and Percy’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh. Uh, thank you. I feel like I’m the lucky one, but it’s nice of you to say that.” And he was off, the chatterbox, rambling on about Opal’s fine qualities. It wasn’t even a hardship for Nash to toss in a few courteous comments of his own.
* * * *