Folsom (End of Men, #1)(27)
“We’re discharging you tomorrow. They want you to get back to work the day after. No more blue pills,” she says.
“Is that from you or them?” I ask.
“Me.”
I sigh, leaning my head back against the pillows and closing my eyes. It reminds me of just a few minutes ago when I had Gwen’s tit in my hands.
“I strongly suggested that you stick to one, and only one, appointment a day.”
“And…?”
“And they agreed to that…for now.”
I nod, grateful for her effort on the matter.
“Small victories, eh?” She pats me on the leg before she stands up.
She’s at the door when I call her name.
“Did you tell Gwen?” I ask. “Just now when you had her outside…?”
“Yes.” She looks like she wants to say more, but then she quickly leaves.
FOURTEEN
GWEN
I grab a printout to look busy while I pace outside Folsom’s room waiting for Doctor Hunley. Her words had been direct, but her eyes were kind in the delivery: He’s leaving tomorrow, Gwen, and as much as I don’t feel good about discharging him yet, it appears to be precisely the right time for you.
Those words play over and over in my head with each step. I look around at the team assembled in dome six and want to shake them. He’s not ready, I want to scream at all of them.
When Doctor Hunley steps out, I’m ready to pounce. “Can I have ten minutes?”
She tucks a file under her arm and nods. “Let’s go to my office.”
We walk through the long corridor to dome three and stop at the office at the end. She unlocks the door, holding her arm out to allow me in first.
“Have a seat,” she says. She points at the plush white chair across from her desk, which is tidy, but her bookshelves are not. The middle shelf sags under the weight of all the books shoved in haphazardly. She sits down and slips off her shoes, sighing when she stretches out her toes.
I can’t be still, so I don’t sit.
“He’s not ready.” I cut to the point.
Her gaze is razor sharp on me then. “I agree.”
“I know the Society is breathing down your neck and even most of the team in dome six, but you’re his primary doctor; can’t you prolong his time here any longer?”
Her eyes are pained. “I have given them all of his data and spoken about my concerns until I am blue in the face. He’s been here this long because of me. Trust me, I’ve tried every reasoning and they cannot be reasoned with—especially now with the news of your Y pregnancy.”
“He can’t go on those pills again. His heart isn’t up to it.” I lean my hands on her desk. “He’ll die.” My face crumples and I back into the chair, covering my face.
She comes around the desk and hands me tissues, leaving her hand on my back.
I take the tissues gratefully and wipe my face.
“He’s agreed to not take the pills,” she says. “And his schedule is greatly reduced.” She walks back to her desk and looks out her window. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, the way he watches you…I can’t in good conscience say that he’s ready to be released, but I know the longer he’s here, the worse it will be for you to let him go.”
The tears keep streaming down my face and I angrily swipe them away. “He wants no part of this life. Did you know that? He feels like a slave, and seeing him in here, nearly dying, and knowing they only care about him getting back out there and meeting his quota…it’s wrong. Our work is to preserve life, not extinguish it…”
She blinks rapidly and looks away. Finally, she moves toward me and takes my hand. “You love him?”
“I don’t know. I think so.” I exhale, the relief of admitting it almost making up for the pain of feeling it.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, but she says it in a way that makes me feel like a silly girl. I’m sorry you’re falling in love with the only man you’ve ever met.
“I’ll do what I can to help him—but my hands are tied.”
I stand, feeling hopeless, and walk to the door. “Thank you.” As I open the door, I pause and shut it again, looking back at her. “There is something I need help with…”
I peek into Laticus’ room, waving the mask to one of his favorite virtual games. I’m awarded with a huge grin. He hops up and takes it.
“If you promise not to stay up all night playing it, you can keep it in here,” I tell him. I try to inconspicuously collect his sperm container, dropping it into a baggie and putting it in my pocket.
“Thanks, Gwen,” he says. His face grows serious and I have a feeling I know what he’s going to say. It’s been a frequent topic between us. “I overheard the doctors saying Folsom’s leaving soon. Is that true?” He fluctuates between calling Folsom by name and calling him his father.
“Yes, could be as soon as tomorrow. I just found out.” I try to keep the emotion out of my voice, sure that Laticus will pick up on it.
“Do you think I can see him? Before he leaves?”
I’d hoped it would happen before now, but Folsom hasn’t agreed to it yet. I can’t tell Laticus that. “I’m still working on it. It might be the middle of the night or early morning…later tomorrow if he stays longer…but I will try to make sure it happens.”