Chapter 3

Alaina pressed her gloved fingers gently against the red, swollen edge of Chelsey's jaw.

Chelsey flinched violently. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes.

Jarred moved instantly. He took a long stride forward, closing the distance to the hospital bed.

He raised his large hand and hovered it just above Chelsey's shoulder, a stark, physical display of protection.

"Is there not a less aggressive way to examine her?" Jarred demanded. His voice was hard, cutting through the sterile air.

Alaina's fingers froze mid-air.

Seeing him so fiercely protective of another woman ripped open the scab on a wound she thought had healed.

She pulled her hand back. She stripped off the latex gloves and threw them into the biohazard bin.

"It is a necessary palpation to check for bone displacement," Alaina said. Her voice was rigid and cold.

She picked up the clipboard and quickly scribbled down her assessment. "You have a mandibular fracture. It requires immediate surgery."

Chelsey's face drained of color. Panic set in. She looked up at Jarred, her eyes begging for comfort.

Jarred softened his posture. He lowered his voice. "Don't be afraid. I will get you the best medical team available."

That soft Don't be afraid hit Alaina like a sledgehammer to the chest.

Alaina lowered her eyelashes. She stared hard at the black ink on the chart until the letters blurred together.

The beeping of the heart monitor faded into the background. Her mind was violently yanked back to a torrential, rain-soaked night eight years ago.

She saw a younger Jarred standing in the pouring rain. His clothes were soaked through, sticking to his skin. His eyes were bloodshot as he gripped her hands.

She remembered the raw desperation in his voice as he begged her not to give up on them.

She remembered the crushing weight of his family's absolute disapproval, the impossible chasm between their worlds, and the terrible choice she was forced to make. She remembered forcing herself to say the most vicious, heartless things to push Jarred away, to protect him from his own family's wrath.

She remembered the exact moment he finally let go of her hands. She remembered the broken, defeated line of his back as he turned and walked away into the storm.

A loud crash from a metal cart rolling past the ER door snapped Alaina back to the present.

She blinked hard, forcing the burning moisture back down her tear ducts.

When she lifted her head, her face was a flawless mask of medical authority.

She handed the signed clipboard to Leah, who was standing quietly in the corner.

"NPO starting now. No food or water. Prep her for anesthesia," Alaina instructed Chelsey in a flat, monotone voice.

Jarred narrowed his eyes. His sharp gaze caught the slight tremor in Alaina's fingertips as she handed over the board.

A complex emotion flashed in his dark eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a microscopic, mocking smirk.

Alaina turned her body toward the door. She couldn't stay in this room for another second.

"If you experience any breathing difficulties, press the call button for the nurse," Alaina said to the room.

She walked fast. She pushed open the heavy metal door of the ER and stepped out into the hallway.

The door slowly swung shut behind her, finally cutting off the heavy, suffocating weight of Jarred's stare.

Alaina walked to the corner of the corridor. She leaned her back against the cold, tiled wall and gasped for air.