My Destiny Novel – “Brooke.” Her husband is too busy dry f-cking another woman up against the wall to even notice his wife just witnessed it. He’s practically eating her d-mn face. “Brooke,” I say again as she breaks into a jog. I can hear her sobs as I close the distance between us, and my heart breaks for her. “We’re at the hospital,” I say, as I lift her into my arms once more. The interior light is on in the car, and I momentarily freeze when I see a pool of blood on the leather seat where she was just lying. “Sh-t!” The sight of it has me internally freaking out. “Jake,” she cries. “I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Mr. Johnston,” I don’t bother correcting him when he calls me by the wrong name. The doctor thinking I’m her husband is probably the only way I’m going to get any information on her condition. “Did you find out what was causing the bleeding?” “Yes. Your wife had an ectopic pregnancy.” “Ectopic?” Logan “Brooke.” Her husband is too busy dry f-cking another woman up against the wall to even notice his wife just witnessed it. He’s practically eating her d-mn face. “Brooke,” I say again as she breaks into a jog. I can hear her sobs as I close the distance between us, and my heart breaks for her. Just as I get close enough to grab her, she stumbles, falling forward. My arms instinctively reach out, sliding around her waist as I pull her back into my front. “I’m so sorry you had to witness that.” When her body goes limp in my arms, my heart drops into the pit of my stomach. Sliding my hand behind her knees, I waste no time lifting her into my arms.
Her head falls back and I immediately see she’s unconscious. What the h-ll? “Brooke.” I shake her slightly. “Brooke, can you hear me?” “Jake, help me,” she mumbles before closing her eyes once more. Quickly glancing over my shoulder and down the street, I see her poor excuse for a husband is still all over that woman and totally oblivious to this dire situation unfolding with his wife. I have a good mind to call out to him, but right now my priority is her. To be honest, she’s better off without his presence. He’d only end up upsetting her more. “Open the door.” “Is she okay?” “Does it look like it?” I snap. I’m not usually so abrupt with him, but in my defence, I’m a mess. I’ve never been in a situation like this before. Leaning forward into the back of the limousine, I lay her down on the back seat before climbing in. “Has she had too much to drink?” he asks. “No! Stop making assumptions and just get us to the hospital.” “Of course, Mr. Cavanagh.”
Chris comes to a halt outside the emergency entrance to the hospital. I don’t even wait for him to open my door. Gently lifting her head from my lap, I slide out of the car. Brook is semi-conscious, but I can tell by the sounds she’s making that she’s in agony. I’m not sure what is going on with her, but my gut tells me it’s not good. “We’re at the hospital,” I say, as I lift her into my arms once more. The interior light is on in the car, and I momentarily freeze when I see a pool of blood on the leather seat where she was just lying. “Sh-t!” The sight of it has me internally freaking out. “Jake,” she cries. “I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.” I’m not even sure I believe my own words, but I feel compelled to say them. “Just hang in there.” “I need a doctor,” I say, panicked and heading in their direction. “I think she’s haemorrhaging.” I can feel the dampness from the blood on her dress, and also on my hand as it trickles between my fingers.
The nurse gets up and opens the door that leads directly to the emergency rooms. “This way,” “Can you tell me what happened?” “I don’t know, to be honest. She appeared to be in pain. She was holding her lower abdomen before collapsing. She’s been in and out of consciousness ever since. When I lifted her out of the car just now, there was blood on the seat.” “I’m going to have to ask you to step outside.” “But…” “She’s in safe hands now. I’ll get the doctor to come and speak with you as soon as he’s had a chance to look her over.” I open my mouth to speak again, but the nurse flicks her hand, shooing me out. “Please. We can’t give her the care she needs with you in the way.” Nodding, I turn and leave.
Everything in me wants to stay by Brooke’s side to comfort her, but the nurse is right—I’ll only be in the way. A few minutes later, I’m startled when the curtain flies back and they wheel Brooke, bed and all, straight past me. I grab hold of the nurse’s arm as they pass. “What’s going on?” “We’re taking your wife for some scans. The doctor needs to know exactly where the bleeding is coming from.” “Is she going to be okay?” “She’s in good hands,” she says, placing her hand on top of mine. “How is she?” “I’m not sure.” I scrub my hands over my face as I speak. “They’ve taken her to have scans to see where the bleeding is coming from.” “I hope she’s going to be okay.” “That makes two of us.” “I wiped most of the blood off the backseat, and I’ll take the car in to be cleaned in the morning.”
“That’s the least of my worries,” I say, with a flick of my hand. “Who is she? The woman I mean.” “One of my employees’ wife.” “Oh. Where’s her husband?” “Still at The Dome, I presume.” “Okay.” I see the confusion on his face. He’s probably wondering why I’m here with her, instead of him. “I probably should try to contact him.” “You most definitely should.” I bet he wouldn’t be so insistent if he knew the whole story. That f-cker doesn’t deserve her. She’s better off without him. Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I search for my assistant’s number. Claire will still be at the function and may be able to get a hold of him for me. “Claire.” “Mr. Cavanagh.” “I need a favour.” “Sure. Are you still here?” I can hear the confusion in her voice. “No. I’m at the hospital.” “Hospital?” she shrieks, and it’s loud enough that I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Is everything all right.” “I’m fine. I’m here with someone else.” “Who?”
“Long story, I can fill you in later. What I need you to do is find Jake Johnston. Do you know who he is?” It’s a stupid question; Claire knows everyone who works for me. “Yes, of course.” “He was seated at my table.” “I can’t see him. Hold on, I’ll walk around the room.” I impatiently tap my foot until she speaks again. “I can’t see him.” Of course she can’t. “Go out to the front of the building and see if you can see him there.” I feel my anger spike, knowing he’s more than likely still out there with that woman. I eye Chris as I wait. “Okay.” A minute passes before she speaks again. “Nope, I don’t see him.” “Look to your left, follow the outer wall of the building.” When I hear her gasp, I know my suspicions are correct.
“Oh my god, is that his secretary? Sh-t, I think it is. Wasn’t he here with his wife tonight?” “His secretary?” “Yes. Jesus, is he giving her a tonsillectomy with his tongue? Get a room you two,” she mumbles to herself. Although there’s nothing funny about this situation, her observation makes me chuckle. One of the things I love about her is her wit and lack of a filter, although it’s gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion. “I’m sure when I did the seating plan, he was seated at your table with his wife.” “He was. That’s who I’m at the hospital with.” The rage I feel in this moment is indescribable. I have a strict ‘No fraternising with staff policy.’ It not only applies to me, but to all of my employees. It’s one of the clauses in their employment agreement, but I know my anger runs far deeper than that. This situation brings back all those ill feelings from my past. Emotions I buried many years ago. “What a snake. His poor wife.”
My sentiments exactly. “What happened to her?” “I’m not sure.” “Do you want me to go over there and tell him his wife’s in hospital? Although under the circumstances, I’m not sure he’s going to care.” “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll stay here until I know she’s going to be okay.” “Keep me updated.” “I will, Claire. Thanks.” “Oh, and Mr. Cavanagh.” “Yes?” “I’ll cover for you here.” “Thank you.” I was tossing up whether to stay or leave, but that phone call just confirmed I’m not going anywhere, for the interim anyway. I couldn’t possibly leave her here to face this all on her own. “I’m going to hang around for a bit,” I tell Chris. “You may as well head home.” “I’m happy to stay if you want the company.” “I appreciate it,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder.
“But it could be hours before I know anything. I’ll just get a cab home.” “Okay. I’ll head out, but I’ll keep my phone close by. If you need me, or a lift, just call.” “Thank you.” I’m not sure how long I’ve been waiting to hear news on Brooke’s condition, but it’s been a while—a few hours, at the very least. I’ve nodded off occasionally, despite my concerns. It’s been a long f-cking day. “Mr. Johnston,” someone says, nudging my leg. Sitting up straight in my seat, I scrub my hands over my face. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to come and see you.” I don’t bother correcting him when he calls me by the wrong name. The doctor thinking I’m her husband is probably the only way I’m going to get any information on her condition.
“I’m Dr. Goldstein. I’m the doctor taking care of your wife.” I clear my throat before I speak. “How is she, doc?” “She’s doing well, considering.” I feel instant relief when he says that. “Come, we can have a chat in one of the private rooms if you like.” “That would be great.” Standing, I look down at my watch and see it’s just after midnight. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my trousers, I follow him back through the doors to the emergency rooms, and halfway down the corridor. He stops at a doorway and gestures for me to enter. The room seems sterile and sparse of furniture with only a small sofa and coffee table inside. “Sit.” I do as he asks. He takes a seat on the edge of the coffee table opposite me before speaking again. He’s still dressed in scrubs. “First and foremost, I want to assure you that your wife is doing okay. It was touch and go for a while, but I’m confident she’ll make a full recovery.” “Did you find out what was causing the bleeding?” “Yes. Your wife had an ectopic pregnancy.” “Ectopic?”