Resisting Mr. Kane (London Mister #2)(81)

I wait.

Visitors and hospital staff swing open the ward door each time, giving me false hope.

I wait some more.

And wait some more.

Finally, I see Tristan.

“Tristan!” I catapult towards him. “How’s Daniel?”

“He’s in a stable condition,” he mumbles, sounding utterly exhausted. “They pumped his stomach.” Tristan’s usual calm and collected demeanour has vanished, replaced by an almost robotic being. His hair is a mess, sticking up in all sorts of directions as he combs his fingers through it. “He’ll be moved to a room for monitoring in a few hours before being released tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank God,” I say, finally feeling as if I can breathe again.

Daniel’s going to be fine. Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I reach out for his hand only to have him take a step back. I feel it like a slap across the face. “Tristan, I’m so sorry, I—"

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” he grinds out coldly. “You should go.” It’s a demand not a suggestion.

“Please, Tristan,” I protest, shaking my head. “I never meant for this to happen. They were tucked away in a side pocket. I’m so sorry that I didn’t think when I asked him to—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interjects, and I know it’s taking everything in him to speak calmly in a public setting. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Elly. Gemina is furious. My son overdosed in my care. On unprescribed drugs, Elly.” He spits out the words.

“It’ll b-be okay.” I’m stuttering now, and people are staring. I have nothing sensible or logical to say. I don’t know what Gemina will do so my reassurances are unfounded.

I trail off as he stares at me. I just want him to hold me, to tell me that it’s all going to be fine but instead, his eyes are black. “I know that it was my fault for being careless, but…how…how could it not matter?”

“She’s threatening to remove my visitation rights,” he snarls, his voice ragged and hoarse. “Do you understand the severity of this? For me to lose access?”

Lips quivering, I try to talk. “I can explain to Gemina, I can fix—”

“You can’t fix anything,” he roars as he begins to close control. “I’m going to potentially lose access to my son because you took drugs to my house.”

“Tristan, please,” I choke out, feeling tears streak my face. “If Daniel’s safe it will be okay…”

He stares at me, his face paling.

“Taking Mum’s pills was the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. I just wanted to get them out of the house. I was intending to dispose of them. I’m sorry, please, let’s just—"

Our eyes lock, his filled with anger, mine soaked with tears.

“We can’t see each other anymore.”

“What?” I whisper.

His voice comes low and hard as a plethora of emotions flit across his face: fear, shock, confusion. But the one that cuts through me the most is his anger. “Neither of us had a prescription for those. My son overdosed on drugs that shouldn’t have been in my possession. I’m a lawyer, Elly. I’ve enough experience of how these cases go.” he says, his anger seeming to slowly disperse from his body. I would rather have him angry and berating me than dismissing me. “We’re done. Go home.”

“But—”

“I’ll get you transitioned off the case if that’s your concern,” he continues, and it hurts even to think that right now, I even care about the job. It’s the very last thing on my mind. “I said your career wouldn’t be impacted by our relationship, and I’m a man of my word. Now go home.”

“Please, Tristan.” It’s barely a whisper.

He shakes his head, saying two words so slowly that I know it’s the nail on the coffin for us. “My. Son.”

He doesn’t wait to see if I leave. He turns and heads back into the ward, the door slamming shut.

I can’t muster the strength to get back on the train yet. Finding a seat facing the wall, I let out large, unattractive grunts and sobs as I choke on my emotion. I’m ugly-crying so loudly the staff are either going to put me on a ventilator or kick me the hell out of the hospital.

A lady offers me a cup of tea. A nice cup of tea is the answer to every problem in Britain, isn’t it? Slept with your boss? Nice cup of tea will sort that out. Accidently pushed drugs on your boyfriend’s son? Add a biscuit or two with the tea. Dumped by the love of your life who happens to be your boss? Maybe brew a full pot.

“Yes, that would be lovely, thanks.” I smile back at the lady through wet tears, and she inhales sharply when she sees my face. I must look like IT the clown. I can tell by the waiting room folks that they think someone close to me has passed away. Nope, I’ve just been dumped.

“Elly,” a female voice addresses me softly from behind. I turn to see Charlie, Tristan’s sister.

“Charlie,” I snivel and accept a tissue from her. “I didn’t see you come in.”

“He shouldn’t have left you here crying.” Her forehead creases into a deep frown. “This is so out of character for him. He’s just really stressed about what might happen.”