Confessions of a Litigation God: A Legal Affairs Full Length Erotic Novel (21 page)

Macy starts crying
again, and it’s because she’s worried but also because
her feelings are hurt that her best friend wouldn’t accept help
and comfort when it was offered.

“What hospital
is she at?”

“Vanderbilt
University Medical Center.”

“Keep trying
to call her. I’m going to try and catch a flight there. If I’m
lucky, I’ll be able to get there not too much longer after
her.”

“Okay,”
Macy says in a small voice.

“Hey,” I
say softly. “It’ll be okay. I’ll text you my flight
info so you know when I’ll get there. You call me if you hear
from her, okay?”

“Sure,”
she says, her voice a little stronger.

“And Macy?”

“Yes?”

“Mac didn’t
mean anything by it when she refused your help. You understand she
wasn’t thinking rationally, right? No matter how calm she
appeared.”

Sighing into the
phone, Macy says, “I know, but thanks for making sure I
remember that.”

I disconnect the
phone and hit the intercom on my desk, buzzing Karen’s office.
When she answers, I tersely tell her to book me the fastest non-stop
flight to Nashville because I don’t want to risk connection
delays. Karen doesn’t sound surprised, but even if she were,
she wouldn’t question me.

I then shoot a quick
email off to my paralegal and have her clear my calendar for the next
two days.

Just that quickly,
I’m out the door and headed to my apartment to pack a suitcase.
I dial Mac’s phone, hoping she’ll answer.

It goes straight to
her voice mail and when the message starts, it’s Mac’s
voice sounding dreamy and hypnotic.
You’re getting very
sleepy. So very sleepy. Your eyelids are closing, and you’re
growing tired. You are losing your ability to stay awake, and you are
susceptible to suggestion. When you hear the tone, you will be all
but powerless to leave your name and number.

I roll my eyes
because I’m not in the mood for Mac’s humor right now.
“Mac… call me. I’m trying to find out what’s
going on.”

I start to hang up,
but then I say, “I’m worried about you. So is Macy.
Please call me.”

***

The cab driver tells
me it’s only a fifteen-minute ride to the hospital, so I lean
my head back against the seat cushion and shoot a quick text to Macy.

Landed. Any word
from Mac?

She responds back
immediately.
No! Please let me know when you see her.

I sigh with
frustration. Mac hasn’t returned my numerous calls or answered
my texts. She’s not communicating with Macy either, and it
makes me worried sick.

I’m not
worried she didn’t make it to the hospital because I know she
did. I have no clue how Karen got the information, but she probably
manipulated or weaseled it out of some gullible nurse. I had
confirmation that Mac made it to the hospital and her mother was in
Room 4310.

While I’m
worried about Mac and sad for her, I’m also a little bit angry
that she hasn’t returned my calls.

Hell, I’m
angry she didn’t think to call me and tell me this happened.
She just had Macy call Karen, and that burns me up for some reason.

I had just assumed,
based on the intimacy that we’ve shared, that she would share
something like that with me. I mean… I didn’t expect to
be the first person she turned to. That would be Macy.

But I did sort of
expect I would be the second person she would turn to.

And just that
thought right there is like a cold wave of water hitting me, dousing
me with the reality that I am letting myself develop actual feelings
for her. Feelings that have nothing to do with how great she feels
underneath of me.

I’m also hit
with the stunning realization that I may be a little bit selfishly
unrealistic in those expectations. I expect her to share something
monumentally important with me, yet I’ve failed to share with
her the most important thing in the world to me.

She has no clue
about Gabe.

The singularly most
important thing that will ever exist in my world.

Turning my head to
the side, I look blankly at the Nashville scene passing by. My mind
idly wonders why I’ve not told her. Why I haven’t even
thought about telling her.

How can I be so
worried about a woman that I’d drop everything to fly to be at
her side, yet I won’t tell her a simple fact about me…
that I have a son?

Maybe because that
fact isn’t so simple.

Gabe is complicated.
Not complicated as a child because he’s like the best kid ever.

But it’s
complicated because my son has single parents from a failed marriage.
And not just any failed marriage. A marriage that crumbled beyond
repair when the wrecking ball known as betrayal slammed into it.
Marissa’s deceit had a profound effect on me, as you would
imagine. It clearly has closed me off and made me averse to exploring
a relationship. But it also made me super protective. Not only of my
own heart, but Gabe’s as well.

The sad truth is…
I really don’t trust any other woman not to shred my heart, and
I sure as hell would never trust another woman not to hurt my son.

Ergo… that is
why Mac has no clue I have a son.

I don’t trust
her enough to let her know.

The cab driver pulls
up in front of the admissions entrance of the hospital, and I hand
cash to cover the fare plus tip. I slide out of the backseat, pulling
my small suitcase behind me.

Staring up at the
building in front of me, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I’m here for Mac. I’m worried about her, and I have no
qualms with admitting that. I do care for her. How can I not when
she’s such a fantastic woman, inside and out of the bedroom?

But there’s
not much past that.

No trust.

No commitment past
basic monogamy while we’re fucking each other, and even then,
we haven’t exactly talked about that.

No burning need to
immerse myself in her life.

No devastation if we
were to go our separate ways tomorrow.

Yes, I care for her.
But not enough to invite her all the way into my life.

I’ve been
lying in this hotel bed, holding Mac in my arms for going on an hour
now. She’s sound asleep, and I have no desire to let her go.
I’m afraid that if I do, she’ll feel the loss of my
comfort and will hurt worse than she already does, and I’m not
about to let that happen.

It’s been a
brutal day today.

When I made it to
Room 4310 and looked inside, pain literally shot through me at the
first glimpse of Mac. Despite her tangled hair and wrinkled clothes,
she looked hauntingly beautiful in her misery and despair. She was
bent over her mom’s bed, holding her hand and weeping softly. I
wanted to go to her and pull her into my arms, away from the horrific
circumstances lying in that hospital bed.

But I couldn’t
intrude. She was having a personal moment with her mother, and I
sensed enough to know that she wouldn’t be having many more.

When Mac finally saw
me standing there, her tear-streaked face filled with grief, I
couldn’t do anything but open my arms to her and let her crash
into me. I held her for a while, letting her bask in the knowledge
that I was there for her to lean on.

Then I started
taking care of her.

I gently persuaded
her to leave her mom for a bit so she could get something to eat.
While we sat in the cafeteria, I asked Mac for all the painful
details and she confirmed for me what I pretty much guessed when I
saw her mom lying there.

She would have to
make some end-of-life decisions.

“I don’t
know what to do,” she told me in a quavering voice.

“Tell me
what’s going on, and we’ll talk it out.”

“The doctor is
going to come by tonight and talk to me in more detail about her
condition, but from what they’ve told me so far, she isn’t
going to recover. She has minimal brain activity… The machines
are keeping her alive right now. I think tonight… I think he
wants to talk to me about taking her off life support.”

“Did your mom
have a Living Will or any other health care directive?”

I didn’t think
my heart could hurt more for Mac, but the tears welled up again in
her eyes and she looked so forlorn as she shook her head in the
negative. “I’m so stupid. I’m a fucking lawyer, and
I never thought to have my mom do one.”

I reached across the
table and took both of her hands in mine, rubbing them soothingly.
“Don’t do that to yourself. It has no purpose here to
dwell on those things.”

Mac tried to pull
herself together, because although she’s wide open and
vulnerable right now, I know she’s normally not like that. She
likes to be tough. I watched as she pulled her lower lip in between
her teeth and bit down, causing the skin to blanche white. The
physical pain must have helped orient her because with a few blinks
of her eyelids, the tears evaporated.

“Did you and
your mom ever talk about this?” I asked her gently.

“No. Not even
when my dad died. He had a heart attack. It was so quick... We never
thought about something like this happening. I never thought I’d
have to make these decisions.”

Squeezing her hands,
I say, “Okay... let’s figure out what your mom would want
then. Tell me about her?”

Finally, I saw a
smile start to form… sentimental in nature, but producing
happy memories. She turned those green eyes up to me, filled with
warm thoughts of the past, and she started talking about her mom. She
poured everything out to me, talking almost nonstop for an hour. When
she finally exhausted herself, to me it couldn’t be any
clearer. I’m confident that if her mom were able to talk to us
right now, she’d tell us that she would never want to live life
hooked up to a machine.

“What about
you, Matt? What would you want if this happened to you?”

“If I was just
like your mom? I’d want to be let go.”

Mac just nodded her
head but didn’t say much more about the subject. She seemed to
be processing, so I let her process.

We spent the rest of
the afternoon and early evening by her mom’s bed. Sometimes Mac
would just sit there and hold her hand… sometimes she would
sit next to me and we’d work on a crossword puzzle together. By
the time the doctor came, I think Mac pretty much had her mind made
up. The doctor took a lot of time with her, explaining her mother’s
medical condition in an easy-to-understand way.

After he left, Mac
turned to me and said, “I’m going to let her go,”
and my heart hurt just a little bit more for her.

But I knew she was
making the right decision.

Mac called some
family members in California to tell them… her mother’s
sister I believe. They all agreed that it should be done sooner
rather than later, and not to wait for the family to travel in. They
didn’t want her to be on the machines any longer than
necessary, so they decided to do it first thing the following
morning, which gave time for her mom’s pastor and local friends
to come by if they wanted.

Mac also called Macy
and had a tearful conversation. Apparently, the family members and
Macy would be hopping on flights tomorrow to travel to Nashville, but
they wouldn’t make it in time to say their goodbyes. Mac was
prepared to shoulder that burden all on her own. I’ve no doubt
her shoulders are strong enough, but it’s not something I’m
about to let her do by herself.

I intend to be with
her for the end.

Mac’s
breathing is deep and even. The dark circles under her eyes showed me
how tired she was, but when she fell into a deep sleep literally
seconds after I pulled her into my arms, I knew that she had been
beyond exhausted. My hand is stroking her back to soothe her, even
though she’s so far under, I know she doesn’t feel it.

It makes me feel
better though.

Took me forever to
convince Mac to come back to the hotel with me to get some rest
tonight. She didn’t want to leave her mom, especially since
they planned to disconnect the next morning. She insisted she needed
to stay, and the only way I got her to leave was to guilt her. I told
her that her mom would want her to get some rest.

So she showered, I
fed her some more food, then I pulled my t-shirt off and dressed her
for bed in it because she didn’t bring anything to sleep in. I
had intended to just crawl into bed beside her and get some work
done, but when I saw the sadness on her face when she laid her head
on the pillow, I asked if she wanted me to hold her until she fell
asleep.

She just nodded and
that was all I needed to pull her in close to me.

I know I should let
her go. She wouldn’t even know it, but would happily turn over
and stay in deep slumber. I have a ton of work to do, especially
since making this spur-of-the-moment trip. Yet I can’t find it
within me to let her go.

All I keep thinking
about is how hard this has to be for her, and how unequipped I really
am to handle this. I just got done convincing myself on the cab ride
here that Mac is special, but she’s not special enough for me
to take a risk.

If that’s the
case, then what the fuck am I doing here, lying in this bed and
refusing to let Mac roll out of my embrace?

***

The process of
letting someone die is filled with caring efficiency. When we arrived
at the hospital this morning, Mac went over all of the paperwork she
had to sign, asking me to read it as well. Then she spent some time
alone with her mother while I waited in the hallway. When it was time
to begin the process, Mac called my name and I went to her. Her eyes
were dry but red, and I think she was pretty much all cried out. It
made her eyes turn to a beautiful pale shade of green, but they were
haunted and that’s all I could really see about her.