The Transplant ✔️

45. No Breaks For Drake

Jolie's POV:

I could feel myself going in an out of consciousness as I was being put on the stretcher. At one point, I blacked out completely and woke to the sound of muffled noises and a scattering of bright lights. I had no idea what was going on, and I wasn't sure if maybe the bright light I was seeing was from the sun, or if I had somehow made it to heaven; neither stood to be true. I blinked my eyes a few more times, gathering courage to strain then to stay open. I was in a hospital room, go figure, and by the looks of IV bags and needle pricks in my arms, heavily medicated. My vision was blurry as I examined the room, my eyes stopping on Jobe. He was sitting on the chair next to the hospital bed, his hand intertwined with mine. His face perplexed on my hands and his eyes a nicely bloodshot.

"How long have I been out?" I startled Jobe as he realized I had come to.

"You've been out for a few hours. You mumbled a few words earlier, but fell back asleep. The doctor said your episode was because of extreme stress on your body. He thinks we should move up the surgery from tomorrow evening to tomorrow morning, since we're both already here. I used your phone to call your mom to let her know." His face hung to the ground, his eyes never reaching mine.

"Jobe, what's wrong? Is there something you're not telling me?" I squirmed around in the bed so I was sitting straight up.

"No, it's just that I feel guilty. Thus wouldn't have happened if I hadn't taken you out today. I pushed you too far, running you around everywhere." He sulked.

"Are you kidding? I had a blast, passing out or not." Plus, the kiss was the most hot kiss I've ever had. That really did happen, right, or did I dream that? No, no, there was no way I dreamt that! It had shocked me beyond surprise to know that Jobe had been feeling the same way about me as I had been for him. That kiss, the butterflies in my stomach, those didn't lie.

"Good, I'm relieved you said that. I'm just glad you're okay, and glad the surgery is moved up. If something had happened to you, or happens to you, I just, I don't know what I'd do." Sincere wasn't Jobe's forte, or better yet, showing emotion wasn't his thing, but his actions told a story his words never could. His eyes were closed, then his face fell into my palm while his hands hands clung to my wrist. I hated seeing him so upset, and if anything, it made me want to get better for him. I've seen my mother and my brother suffer my illness for so long, I couldn't stand it if Jobe fell in line with them. I was the on who should feel guilty, falling for a man when I'm in this condition. But it all happened so fast, I couldn't stop it.

"Hey, I'm okay; I have bad luck and can't catch a break, that's nothing new. And it's not all that bad. I have people waiting on me all day and I have a nice balcony view, which is basically the same at staying at a luxurious hotel, don't you think?" Trying to lift his spirits was hard to do when I was having trouble staying hopeful. Plus, this droggy medicine, whatever it may be, was making it hard to think straight. I had the urge to fall asleep again, but I didn't want to leave Jobe with boring company.

Jobe's face lightened, as he gave a forced chuckle.

"Yeah, point well taken. Having someone fluff your pillows and turn down your bed if you need is too awful."

"True, but I'd never abuse the power, in all truth. Did I ever tell you the story about how I was a volunteer candy striper in high school?" It was a story I didn't like to reflect on, but I wanted Jobe to know more about me. We were bored in here anyway; might as well have story time.

"No, I don't think you have." He shook his head.

"I was a candy striper, working along side of the certified nursing assistants. It looked good on my resume, and at the time, I figured I could see if nursing was a choice for me. As you know, in a small town there's not many career choices other than the medical field, so even if I didn't like nursing, I was going to try. Well, not only did I hate it, but because of that reason, I didn't take the work seriously. I only worried about leaving and getting work done as fast as possible. I didn't care like I should have, and got lost in the job instead of worrying about the people. We were taking care of twelve patients at a time, doing house care, nursing care, and charting, and it was hard to keep up and give the patients the care they needed. I give credit to those strong nurses for how hard they work. Thinking back, I regretted not helping the people who needed help the most, and stop being so lazy. Since then, I vowed to myself never to do anything without the intention of doing it fully, and with my whole heart. That thinking process led me to start writing, something I was passionate about and wouldn't be lazy about." I took a gulp of air, breathing from my long conversation. I had shifted a little off topic, but I was a little loopy.

"It's funny, because I have been thinking the same thing. I don't want to do something I don't love for fear of a dull sense of satisfaction. I have to change my major if I want to be happy. Life is too short to live in a career-driven poverty."

"I'm so glad you feel that way. I want you to be happy." And I did. He deserved every bit of happiness to live his dream, not his father's dream for him.

"You make me happy, Jolie Drake."

And that's all I needed to hear before sleep overcame my body and put me into a dead sleep.