Professional Boundaries (21 page)

I just closed my eyes again and tried to breathe and not to think about the pain I was in, physically and emotionally.

It didn’t take us long to get to the hospital where I was rushed into the emergency room. I heard them repeat to the doctor and nurse my vitals, which were thankfully normal, and what my injuries and symptoms were. The doctor, who I believe said his name was Dr. Ellis, asked my “husband” to wait outside while they examined me. When Ian objected, they said he could come back in a moment. I didn’t say anything; I still couldn’t believe he was continuing with this charade.

Dr. Ellis examined me from head to toe, and when he got to my arm, I couldn’t help but practically scream. The sharpness that went from the shoulder to my fingertips was like nothing I had ever experienced before. “I think it’s a safe bet to say your shoulder is dislocated. I’m going to have to manipulate it back into place, and your forehead is going to need some stitches.” He didn’t think my arm was broken, but he was ordering x-rays just in case. He was also concerned about a concussion, so they were going to monitor me for a while, perhaps overnight.
Oh joy,
I thought. I was even more overjoyed when the nurse informed me I needed to be changed into their lovely attire. I had a choice between a blue or pink hospital gowns. I chose door number three. She just laughed and began helping me undress. I was more than thankful they asked my pseudo significant other to wait outside, but once they were done exposing me and poking me, they let him in.

He rushed to my side and immediately grabbed my hand and began asking the doctor about the extent of my injuries.

“Bad news, I’m going to make it,” I teased.

He kissed my hand in response. What was up with him?

The nurse handed Ian a clipboard. “You and your wife will need to fill out her medical history and insurance information. As soon as that’s complete, I’ll take her down to x-ray.”

“Give me the clipboard,” I demanded as soon as we were left alone. He declined, citing that I couldn’t use my right hand. I guess he had a point, so I let him be my secretary. Not surprisingly, he knew so much about me that he could practically fill it out without my aid. That was until …

“When was the start date of your last period?”

“Are you serious?”

He laughed, but he shook his head yes.

I thought for a moment. “April 5.”

The questions only got more intrusive.

“Are you pregnant?”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said.

“Do you take birth control? If yes, what type?”

He was enjoying this more than was necessary, but I couldn’t even look at him with proper disdain because I still had the stupid neck brace on. They refused to remove it until I had an x-ray.

“Just write thirty-two year old virgin across the dang page and be done with it.” I lashed out in frustration with the whole stupid situation, which included him.

He placed the clipboard down, scooted closer, and rested his hand gently on the left side of my face. I had a feeling the right side wasn’t looking so hot. I had been afraid to ask.

He was close enough that I could see into those eyes of his that just kept looking into mine. I don’t know why, but it made me tear up the way he was looking at me, and oddly I understood the question or inquiry in his eyes. My experience, or lack thereof, in the sex department was a somewhat frequent topic when we were dating. It’s not that Ian ever pushed me or even stepped across the line, it was just one of the many things he worried about.

“I told you, it wasn’t unrealistic for me to wait.”

He wiped at some of my tears and smiled, but I could tell it wasn’t a happy smile. “I never said it was unrealistic for you. I said it was unrealistic for us.”

“I remember, Ian.”

He smiled happily at the sound of his name. 

Chapter 16

The good news was the neck brace could come off and my arm wasn’t broken, but my shoulder really was dislocated and they were going to have to put it back into place. The procedure didn’t sound pleasant, but at least they could do it under a local anesthesia, or at least they hoped. That didn’t fill me with a lot of confidence. It didn’t help, either, that it took the nurse about five times before she got an I.V. in me. Ian finally requested someone else do it. I thought the poor lady was going to cry, but it really was painful, and I really didn’t need any more pain. Before they took care of my shoulder, they stitched my head.

“Do I look like the bride of Frankenstein?” I asked Ian.

He kissed my hand. “Never.” 

We had another moment alone before the next procedure. I took the time to grill him.  “Why did you tell them you were my husband?”

“I was afraid they wouldn’t let me come with you if we weren’t related,” he replied.

“I think you’ve watched too many T.V. shows, and even if that were true, you could have gone with brother or something.”

 “No one would believe I’m your brother,” he laughed to himself, “but this
is
the south.”

I shook my head at his terrible, stereotypical southern joke. “Hey, we only marry cousins down here.”

He laughed again.

It wasn’t too much longer until we were joined again by Dr. Ellis and a new nurse, Janelle, who became my hero as she finally administered pain medication and a relaxant intravenously. They excused Ian again and told him he could come back once my shoulder was back in place. Before he left, he kissed me softly again on the lips and grinned mischievously afterwards. My heart monitor went a little erratic, which only made him smile wider.

“Mr. Greyson, I think we need to talk about your behavior.”

“Later,” was all he said before he left me feeling overwhelmingly confused and wonderful. I had missed his kisses like Charlie missed his squeaker toy.

“That’s so cute, you call him Mr. Greyson,” Nurse Janelle said.

Yes, it’s just adorable
, I thought.

And with that thought, the doctor began manipulating my shoulder back into its socket. All I have to say is, pain relievers are a gift from God, as are doctors. As soon as my shoulder was in its rightful place, I felt instantaneous relief. It still felt sore, but the throbbing pain was gone.

I thanked Dr. Ellis, and he gave me a list of instructions to follow along with the best news of the day: I could go home that evening. Hallelujah. I had no desire to stay overnight, but there was a caveat. Someone needed to stay with me and monitor me, just in case. That was going to be tricky with my sister and Holly both being out of town. I wondered if Delfia would want to. We weren’t friends out of the office, but there was no reason we couldn’t be.

It was just about this time that Janelle let Mr. Greyson/Ian back in and unfortunately he caught the gist of the conversation. “Don’t worry; I’ll keep a careful eye on my wife tonight.”

 I wanted to challenge him right then and there, but if I did, I would look like a liar. And ok, I was a liar. I was letting these people think I was married to my ex-boyfriend who was currently only my boss. I really was in a soap opera; all I needed now was for Ian to tell me we really were brother and sister. Just because I couldn’t object now, though, it didn’t mean I wouldn’t later on. And that’s exactly what I did as soon as Dr. Ellis and Janelle left.

“You can’t monitor me over night!”

“Why not?” he acted surprised that I would disagree.

“Mr. Greyson, need I remind you …”

He put his finger to my mouth as he sat on the edge of my bed. “Please call me Ian.”

“Even at the office?” I asked.

He thought it over for a moment. As he mulled, I wondered why this was such a hard concession for him. What had happened to make him this cautious? I mean, he was always cautious, but I had a feeling there was more to the story.

He took up my left hand. “Yes,” he said simply.

I couldn’t help but smile at his concession, but he still wasn’t staying with me. “Ok then,
Ian
, need I remind you that I don’t let men stay the night at my apartment, especially when they’re my boss.”

He scooted closer and squeezed my hand. “Fine, I’ll quit right now.”

“Are you suddenly going to become a woman now too?”

He laughed, but he wouldn’t let it go. “You know,” he said. “It wouldn’t be the first time we spent the night under the same roof.”

I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks. He spoke the truth. We had spent five days together at his parent’s place. I had slept in his old room, and he slept on the pull out couch that had a sprung spring. Those were some of the best days of my life.

I didn’t respond. I just bit my lip.

“I’ll stay on your couch or even the floor,” he said it like that settled the matter.

I just shook my head, well as much as I could. My head was still pounding. “What’s going on with you?”

He tenderly touched my cheek. “Seeing you hurt and unable to move today reminded me how short life is, and I’ve already wasted so much time.”

I was about to ask for clarification on that statement. Did it mean what I thought it meant? His phone rang, and he said he needed to answer it. It was his insurance company, and he was arranging a rental car with them. I had forgotten both he and I were there without transportation.

“I need to go, but I’ll be back to take you home,” he said as soon as he got off the phone.

It was then that I remembered my keys were at the office. “Could you stop by the office and get my keys and my laptop?” I asked. I wasn’t too worried about my car. Our office was in a good part of town, so it could wait until tomorrow.

“Of course,” he replied. “I need to take care of something there anyway.”

“And can you ask Delfia if she can stay with me tonight?”

“Sure,” he said in voice that left me anything but sure he was telling the truth, but I thanked him anyway.

He kissed my forehead before leaving, which left me feeling all sorts of weird, and it wasn’t from the drugs that were pumping through my veins.

As soon as he left, I called Janelle back in so she could help me to the restroom; it was time to take a look at the damage that had been done to me. I knew there was some, I could feel it. She helped me walk over while wheeling the I.V.

I immediately looked in the mirror once I was left alone, and it wasn’t pretty. The whole right side of my face was already beginning to bruise, and my right eye was slightly swollen. The stitch line on my forehead was going to leave a nice scar. I became very grateful I had decided last year to get bangs. It looked like I would always be keeping them. I chanced to look down at my lovely hospital-issued attire and found more bruising down my right side. I was surprised Ian hadn’t mentioned how horrible I looked, but it did explain the look of concern in those chocolate eyes of his.

I couldn’t stand too long. I wasn’t sure if it was the trauma or medication, but I really didn’t feel all that hot, and Ian wasn’t helping with him being all Ian. If I thought I was confused before, there was no comparison to the way I felt now. I was beginning to wonder if Zane and Amanda were right, even though it made no sense at all. I mean, we’d spent thirteen years apart; he told me him coming here was all about business, but he sure wasn’t acting professional, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

I’d admit, there was a part of me that welcomed it, but how did I reconcile the years of separation and pain. And what about trust? How could I ever trust him? I felt like screaming again; I shouldn’t be thinking like this. He was my boss, and he left me, and I didn’t even know why. I told him I loved him with all my heart, and he told me that ruined everything.

Janelle settled me in my bed again and took my vitals, all while making small talk. “So, how long have you been married?”

I was going to kill Ian! He was turning me into a liar. “Not long at all.”

Was that kind of the truth?

“Oh newlyweds,” she said excitedly.

I had a feeling she would like to be one. She looked younger than me, and she was super cute. She had that new-love aura around her. “So, do you have anyone special in your life?” I asked as she took my pulse.

 My assessment of her was dead on. She began to gush about Carson. “We’ve been dating three months, and I know that isn’t very long, but I just know he’s the one. I mean, is that even possible? How did you know your husband was the one?”

I thought about her question, and at least I didn’t have to lie. “It’s like drowning in pure intelligence,” I said. “You have this peaceful, all-encompassing feeling that just says you’ve come home.”

She looked at me and sighed. She didn’t have to say anything, I knew she understood exactly what I said, and even more, I knew she felt it. I only hoped her story ended better than mine and that her Carson felt the same way she did.

She let me be and turned down the lights. “Try and get some rest, we’ll monitor you for the next little while, and if everything looks good, you can go home early this evening.”

I closed my eyes and let the medication take me over. I fell into a fitful sleep. The medication seemed to be fighting my mind for control. The medication was saying sleep and my mind was saying let’s overanalyze everything Ian has said or done in the past two months. Heck, even the past fourteen years. Eventually the two did seem to make a compromise; I got to sleep, but my dreams were laced with Ian, and they frequently woke me up. I was almost grateful when the pain meds wore off and I woke up for good, even if I did hurt all over.

I found, though, that I wasn’t alone, and my dreams had suddenly become reality. There Ian was, on the edge of my bed, holding my hand. He had changed out of his suit that had some of my blood on it. He was now casual, in jeans and a polo shirt looking more like the Ian I used to know.

He touched my brow as soon as my eyes opened. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” 

His face dropped, and he hung his head.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault.”

He didn’t respond verbally, but I knew by the look on his face he blamed himself, and nothing I could say would change his mind.