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“It really is,” she said, running her hands up and down her arms. “It’s so damn cold and windy, it takes your breath away.”
“Interesting segue. So, the reason I brought you here is because...” he paused. “My construction company is relocating. To...Florida.” He reached over and grabbed her hand.
“And I’m guessing that means you’re relocating, too?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “And I was thinking that maybe...you would like to...relocate with me.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “We’ve known each other for like, four months, Jake.”
“And? If I didn’t bail after the ‘Never Have I Ever’ debacle, I think we’re good,” he said with a wink. “Hey: I want you to come with me. There’s nothing tying you here, Amara. This place served its purpose for you.”
“I kinda like it here,” she replied quietly.
“You’ll like it in Florida, too. I promise. It’s warm all year round, and where the company’s moving is right on the Gulf Coast. Here,” he said, pulling out his phone, typing for a bit, then handing it to her. “This is the house I’m buying.”
She began scrolling through the pictures, mouth agape. It was an exquisite, elevated 1800-square-foot home directly on the water, complete with a dock and an enclosed swimming pool and hot tub combo. There was an elegant wooden gazebo that overlooked the Gulf with access to a private beach. He reached his finger over and started scrolling for her. “Hold on, this...where is it?” He stopped at a picture of an office. “I was thinking this could be your writing room.”
“Wow. It’s really something,” she remarked, pretending she didn’t see the $1.2 million listing price and $16,000 a year in property taxes.
“Come with me,” he said, taking the phone from her, turning to face her, and grabbing both her hands. “I can make you happy.”
“Happy,” she repeated sarcastically. “What’s that feel like?”
“It feels like you getting to live your life for you, Amara. Between your ex, then all the bullshit with Ryan, you’ve gotten so used to living for other people that you forgot that you deserve to live, too.”
“I take care of people,” she said sadly. “That’s what I do.”
“Then maybe it's time you let someone take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself, Jake. Been doing it my whole life.”
“I know you can. But just because you can doesn’t mean you should have to. You don’t have to decide right now. You can always come down later when you’re ready.”
“When are you leaving?”
He sighed. “Next week. The transfer is happening on Tuesday, and we’re headed down right after.”
“Wow. OK. That doesn't give me a whole...”
Her phone rang, and she checked the screen. “Yale New Haven Health? Who the hell?” She put up a finger as she took the call.
“Hello?...Yes, this is she...Uh huh...uh huh...Oh my God...Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
Horrified, she hung up and turned towards Jake.
“What’s the matter?” he asked her, immediately taking notice of the tears streaming down her face.
“It’s Ty.”
The Injury (41)
They’d gotten to Bridgeport Hospital in a matter of minutes, thanks to Jake’s Formula One-worthy driving performance.
“Text me and let me know what’s going on. I’ll be in the waiting room,” he called, as he dropped her off at the emergency room entrance and went to park the car.
Running into the building, she immediately went to triage. “Hi, I’m here for Tyler Hayes.” She tried to fight it, but she burst into tears. “I got a call that he...was brought here by ambulance from Total Mortgage Arena and...that he was unresponsive. I’m his emergency contact, Amara McDonough.”
“Just a moment, ma’am,” the woman said, typing and scrolling on her computer screen.
