Page 31 of The Oath Operation
Amari opened his mouth. Words spilled out. Jules didn't hear a single one of them. They were filled with so many I's. Nothing Amari said had anything to do with her.
She had to get out of here and find Fish. She had to explain that it wasn’t his fault. She needed to see him, to reassure him and herself that they could get through this together. Her heart ached at the thought that he might blame himself for what happened to her.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Jules had sat up in the bed and was swinging her legs over the mattress. It felt like she was still climbing that mountain, even though her feet weren't even on the ground. "I need to find Fish."
"Jules, you need to rest. I'm placing you on a forty-eight hour stay."
"You can't do that."
"As your boyfriend, no. But as your doctor I can. You need to focus on your health."
"You just want to keep me and Fish apart."
"What I want to do is monitor your blood sugar levels, rehydrate youproperly, and make sure you're stable before being discharged."
Jules wasn’t listening anymore. She was still struggling to put her feet on the floor. However, her body protested with every movement. The pain and fatigue were nothing compared to the panic that gripped her heart. She had to find Fish, had to make sure he knew she needed him.
"And I suppose you'll bar visitors from seeing me?"
"No, I won't do that," said Amari. "Your husband is free to visit. But like I said, he left."
Jules settled back against the limp hospital pillow. Fish would come back. Of course, he would come back. He loved her.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Fish leaned against the cool, sterile wall of the hospital hallway, peering through the small window into Jules’ room. His fists clenched as he watched Amari leaning over her, checking her vitals. From this angle, it looked like they were getting cozy, reconnecting in a way that made his stomach twist with jealousy. A part of him wanted to storm in there and tell Amari to take his hands off his wife.
But then he saw it—Jules rolled her eyes at something Amari said, her expression filled with irritation. Despite himself, Fish felt a flicker of amusement. Typical Jules, not letting anyone, not even a doctor, boss her around. He loved that about her, her fiery spirit and independence.
Yet, as he watched, another thought crept into his mind. When Jules had passed out on the hike, he had been completely clueless, paralyzed by fear and guilt. He still didn't know everything he should about her diabetes. He had no idea how to properly take care of her during an episode. But Amari did. That alone made Amari the better man for her, didn’t it?
The memory of holding Jules’s limp body in his arms flashed through his mind. He had never felt so helpless, so terrified. If he truly loved her, shouldn’t he want what was best for her? And maybe, just maybe, what was best for her was someone who could take care of her, someone who had the medical knowledge and training to handle her condition.
His heart broke at the thought, but he couldn’t ignore it. He watched as Amari continued to examine Jules, his movements confident and sure. Fish felt a pang of inadequacy. How could he compete with that? How could he provide the security and stability that Jules needed?
He took a deep breath, his decision solidifying in his mind. He had to back away. He had to let Jules rekindle her relationship with Amari. It was the right thing to do, even if it meant breaking his own heart in the process.
He looked down at the ring on his finger. It gleamed proudly against his tanned skin. He couldn't get his right hand to reach over and take it off. He might not be the man for her, but she was the only woman for him. That ring would forever remain a symbol of it.
Fish was just about to turn away from Jules' hospital room when he heard hurried footsteps. Jacqui and Noah rushed up to him, their faces etched with worry.
"What happened?" Jacqui demanded, her eyes wide with fear. "Is Jules okay?"
Fish swallowed hard, his throat tight. "We went on a hike. I gave her my sports drink. It had sugar in it. She had a reaction and passed out."
"You did what?"
Fish had seen the look Jacqui reserved for when a dish came back to the kitchen not up to her standards or when a supplier tried to short her on an order. But this was personal.
Jacqui’s face twisted, her eyes blazing with an anger that made Fish’s stomach knot. He’d faced down enemies on the battlefield, stared down the barrel of a gun more times than he could count, but nothing prepared him for the storm that was Jacqui Chou.
"How could you be so careless?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the quiet hallway like a knife. "You know she’s diabetic. You should have known better."
Fish accepted the cut wordlessly, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his guilt. As Jacqui's sous chef, he was used to her tearing his dishes apart, her sharp critiques meant to push him to be better. But this was different. This wasn’t about a dish; it was about Jules’ life.
He knew she was right. He knew that food could be dangerous. In the restaurant, if someone came in with a peanut allergy, it was his responsibility to ensure no nuts touched their plate. It was the same with Jules. He had her life in his hands, and he had nearly killed her.
