“Then come to California and enjoy yourself while you’re here. I know someone who will be thrilled to see you.” I turn the camera around to Harmony as she colors a printed picture of a unicorn.
“There’s my grandbaby!” Mom squeals, finally catching Harmony’s attention, and she runs over, snatching my phone. The three talk for a while, and I do my best to eat some soup. My stomach is in knots, not knowing all the details of what happened, but my young and impressionable daughter hasn’t left my side long enough for me to ask. Her father has also been close and unyielding in his constant staring, worry painting his features, but he remains quiet.
When everything finally calms down, Cole and Lyla offer to take Harmony home with them, and as much as he seems to hate the idea of letting her go, Marcus lets them, telling his daughter he’s going to take care of me for a change.
“It’s not necessary. If I need anything, the staff are here to help me.”
I won’t admit it now, but it’s a struggle to even get to the bathroom, and I hate every minute of Marcus helping me, although I’m also forever grateful. As embarrassing as it is, I trust him and am more comfortable with him than my coworkers. He’s been very demanding with everyone, which should drive me nuts, but I know things will go back to normal soon enough, so I soak it all in, barely complaining. Barely.
“I’m going to walk them out and grab Harmony’s bag out of my truck. Be back in a few,” he says, completely ignoring my comment.
Cole, Lyla, and my sweet daughter hug me goodbye, and I release a deep breath of relief. Too many guests, too much love, although I won’t complain too much about that. And still too many questions about what really happened to me that night.
When Marcus returns, I decide to ask him instead of calling for Dr. Williams. He is an established doctor with a good reputation and staff that love him, not to mention his chiseled jawline, dark silky hair, and blue eyes you could drown in. I like him, he’s nice, and he’s absolutely perfect on paper.
The problem is he asked me out the night of my accident, and I told him I would think about it, even though I really don’t feel that way about him. Because my stupid heart thinks it still belongs to the man swaggering in from the hallway.
Marcus is tall, burly, and has this presence that demands attention. A man who always gets what he wants, not because he’s dishonest or manipulates situations for his benefit, but because he’s hardworking and sincere. If he says something will get done, the man won’t eat or sleep until the task is complete.
He’s so passionate and throws himself into his work. It never feels good to be put last, but there aren’t enough hours in the day to make everyone happy. This is also why we couldn’t make our relationship work. I couldn’t make him choose, so I did it for us both.
“Hungry?” He asks, bringing in a large take-out bag.
“Not really.” I shrug.
“Really? ‘Cause Stan packed up your favorite.”
“El Pastor?”
“Of course.”
“Mmm. Well, in that case, it would be rude not to try, right?”
Marcus laughs as he sets up a small picnic at the side of the hospital bed. Taco Stan is a staple in our lives and serves the best Tacos around. Try telling any member of our merry gang of friends differently, and we’ll fight you.
I take a delicious bite of pork, moaning in satisfaction.
“Good?”
“Great. So much better than soup,” I admit finishing the homemade street taco in four bites.
Taco’s eaten; trash discarded. I finally work up the nerve to ask the most burning question.
“Did I hurt anyone, Marcus?” I whisper. The noise from the television we aren’t watching plays softly.
My question catches him off guard, and the time that passes before he answers me makes me nervous.