Heart Unbroken (The Potter's House Books Book 3) Page 6
“You’re doing great.” Rodrigo appeared with the tweezers and towels.
She stepped aside. As he leaned to her son, she closed her eyes. Was it going to hurt Junior? She wished she could take her son’s pain, any past and any future pain.
“All done.” Rodrigo’s voice made her open her eyes.
Her heart thumped in her chest as Rodrigo gently wiped at the foot and bandaged it. “I believe I got all of it out. But we’ll have the doctor check it, just in case some tiny pieces stuck inside. Junior was a real trooper.”
“You were very brave.” She gave Junior a quick hug.
“No biggie. When I grow up, I wanna be a sheriff. A sheriff has to be brave.”
Rodrigo shrugged. “He asked me about my work, so I told him. Let’s go, buddy.” He carried Junior to his car.
Emma clutched the car door handle all the way to the ER. She bit into her lower lip to keep the tears at bay.
Will Junior be okay? Will Dylan ever trust me with him again?
Every cell in her body demanded her regular solution for the problem. She was so desperate for the oblivion drugs could give her.
So desperate...
Rodrigo reached for her left hand. He held her trembling fingers in his until they stopped trembling and the warmth from his touch reached all the way to her heart.
She turned her head and looked at her poor boy in the backseat, suffering from her negligence.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad, Mom.” Junior’s voice was weak.
Her son, while obviously in pain, was comforting her!
Such a sensitive soul. Must be taking after Dylan.
Emma couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. Moisture sprung to her eyes, and she blinked it away. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Mom. It was my fault for stepping on the glass, anyway.” Junior’s voice grew just a tad stronger.
Emma prayed with all her might.
EMMA GRINDED HER TEETH in impatience while Rodrigo looked for parking near the hospital. Finally, one of the cars pulled out from a spot near the entrance, and Rodrigo guided the truck there. She followed him as he carried Junior inside the emergency room.
Dylan and what seemed to be half of Rios Azules were already in the ER waiting room. She swallowed hard. They probably all blamed her for what had happened to Junior. After some commotion and many questions, Junior was taken inside, accompanied by his father, of course.
Emma had no right to be by her son’s side in this situation.
She wished she could shrink deep inside herself. Maybe this was the answer to the question of whether she should’ve come back to Rios Azules.
That answer was no. She’d made things worse for her son.
She sank into the nearest chair and hid her face in her hands.
“Nobody blames you.” Somebody touched her forearm.
Emma looked up.
Rodrigo.
His eyes were compassionate and understanding. She had an incredible urge to lean into him, hide her face on his broad chest, and cry her heart out.
“He’s right. Things happen, especially to young kids.” Joy lowered herself in a chair near Emma. “Especially to Junior. Do you know he almost drowned on my first date with Dylan?”
Emma gasped. “Really?”
“Yes. Don’t be killing yourself over him stepping on broken glass. Junior is going to be all right.” Worry settled in Joy’s eyes, but her voice was soothing.
“Who is going to kill me over it is Dylan,” Emma muttered. “I’m a horrible mother.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand. It was an accident,” Rodrigo said. “And you’re not a horrible mother. Things like this happen all the time.”
Dylan stepped out of the room, Junior in his hands. “Everything is okay. The cut isn’t deep. There’s no glass left inside. And there are no signs of infection. The doctor gave me prescriptions for ointment and instructions for wound care.”
Emma released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “He’ll be all right?”
“I told you.” Joy headed to her son.
Because now Junior was Joy’s son.
Emma’s rib cage constricted, making it harder to breathe.
“Mom!” Junior greeted Joy.
Emma suppressed the longing inside her. The main thing was that Junior was fine. She said a silent prayer of gratitude, and judging by the way Rodrigo’s lips moved, he joined her.
“Let’s go,” she said to Rodrigo.
“Mom and Dad, will you let me go to the beach again with my other mom?”
Emma brightened. Other mom... She’d take it. Gladly.
She couldn’t help herself. She ran to her boy, leaned to him, and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay, and I’m sorry I let it happen. I love you, Junior."
The boy looked up at her, hesitation in his eyes.
She didn’t expect him to say it back. She didn’t have the right to.
“I love you, too, Mom,” Junior said.
For a moment, she couldn’t see, breathe, or utter a single word. Two tears slid down her cheeks.
Junior frowned. “Why are you crying? The doctor said I’ll be all right.”
Emma couldn’t push words past her parched throat.
“Let’s get you home.” Dylan shifted forward. “You’ll see Emma and the beach soon enough.”
Dylan, Joy, and Junior said their good-byes and headed to the exit.
Emma watched them walk away and turned to Rodrigo.
He studied her. “You deserve to be loved. You deserve to have a family.”
“So do you.” She didn’t add to be loved by someone who wouldn’t be at risk of relapsing any time. She didn’t want to ruin that wonderful, incredible piece of happiness that she held in her heart at that moment.
Rodrigo opened his arms, and she walked into his embrace. She fit so well in his arms, as if she always belonged there. A wonderful sensation she hadn’t experienced before, or didn’t remember, spread inside her. As he stroked her hair, a deep longing for love and family entered her heart.
It had taken her seven years to break the bond between her and her son. It had taken her over a year to gain it back. But if she broke it again, she’d never get it back. Even Junior with all his kindness wouldn’t forgive her betraying him for the second time; she was sure of that.
Rodrigo shouldn’t trust her because she couldn’t trust herself. But when he held her in his arms, oh, how badly she wanted to...
RODRIGO KNEW THE EXACT moment something changed inside him. It was when Emma leaned into him, sighing softly, as if believing he could take away her pain.
There was no sense in getting close to this woman, not after all he knew about her.
No sense whatsoever.
Still, he couldn’t force himself to walk away from Emma.
Since he’d been a kid, he’d possessed an innate need to help others. That quality had brought him together with Corina, who’d had the same need, the reason she’d chosen a medical profession.
But there was something more here than the desire to help. In a matter of days, he’d gotten attached to Emma. Yes, the physical attraction was there, her beautiful blue eyes and lovely face drawing him in. But this was something so much deeper and more important that it scared him.
At the moment, Rodrigo wanted to shield her from onlookers, curious gazes, whispers, and yes, to make her pain more bearable.
She looked up at him, tiny teardrops glistening on her eyelashes. His heart squeezed in his chest, from compassion and something else he didn’t dare to name yet.
“Do you want to go back to the beach?” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded, and he walked her to the truck, opened the door for her, and waited until she was inside to close it.
As he drove, he stole several glances at Emma. She had a faraway look in her eyes. He found her hand, her fingers trembling slightly. She didn’t move her hand away, and he felt as if he won a small victory.
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Was he betraying Corina’s memory by helping a former drug addict? Rodrigo did a mental headshake as he slowed down around a curve. Corina would’ve tried to help Emma. That was the kind of person Corina had been.
Now when he thought about his late wife, he didn’t feel the usual sharp pain but profound and lingering sadness. Yes, he still hurt, but not nearly as much as before.
Maybe God had brought Emma into his life for a reason.
Her phone rang. She reached into her purse for it with her free hand, glanced at the screen, and swiped it to answer the call.
She listened to something and frowned. “Gnat, we’ve been over this before. I won’t give you money for drugs. And no, I’m not being cruel. Oh, I do understand how much you need it. I understand it all too well.”
Rodrigo resisted the urge to ask for the phone and give that Gnat a piece of his mind.
Emma sighed. “You’re a smart guy. Remember the amazing documentaries you used to make? You’re a talented filmmaker. You can still go to college, achieve things. Don’t laugh at me. I mean every word. I realize that nobody we know has quit forever. But... try. Talk to Harry at the nonprofit. He’ll help place you into rehab, and I’ll pay for it.”
The guy seemed to disconnect, because a moment later, Emma stared at her phone.
Nobody we know has quit forever.
Her words echoed in Rodrigo’s head, and his heart dropped. He’d been down this road before, trying to help a drug addict, and Corina had paid for it with her life.
Emma had a point. While he wanted to help her, he couldn’t let himself fall for her. It would mean disaster for his life and career. Not that Emma intended to let him get close to her, by the looks of things. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Once they reached the beach, Rodrigo parked his truck, and they walked to the shore. As they reached the water, she stood still, her long blonde hair waving in the wind.
“I guess I’m like that broken bottle Junior stepped on. I hurt everyone who gets near me.” Her voice was quiet, barely audible in the roar of the ocean.
He leaned and picked up a smooth glass piece that sparkled in the sun. “Do you know that this is a former shard?”
She peered at the piece in his hands. “It doesn’t look like one. It doesn’t have sharp edges.”
“Precisely. The ocean evened it out, making this beautiful. Why don’t you let God work through you?”
“Why would God bother with the likes of me?” she whispered.
“Because nobody is beyond redemption. Why don’t you stop looking at everything bad that happened in your past and pay attention to all the good things about you?”
She shook her head. “I can’t see many.”
“I can. I can see the beauty inside you and your struggle to make things right. I can see many good things about you. More importantly, God can. You’re a work in progress in God’s hands. He’s not done with you. Let Him mold you.”
She turned to him. “I don’t understand it. Why are you still here when you should be walking, no, running away from me?”
Rodrigo stepped to her and brushed her soft hair away from her face, noting the way her eyes widened at his touch. “Because I care about you. Because I like you. Because you need me. And because... I need you.”
She shook her head. “No. Nobody needs me. Well, except for Gnat, and he needs me because I gave him money to feed his addiction.”
“Your son needs you. Many people who love your food. Mari and Joy need you.” Rodrigo didn’t know how to get through to her.
“Mari and Joy are being kind to me. And Junior is probably better off without me. Nobody loves me, and it’s all my own fault.”
“God loves you.”
“Even after what I’ve done?” Her lower lip trembled.
“God always loves you. That love is beyond borders, beyond comprehension, beyond any mistakes you’ve made or will make in the future.”
She stared at him. “You’re too good to be true.”
“Have you ever tried to start your day with a prayer and finish it with a prayer? That was a question Corina asked me on our first date when I was still a deputy. I saw so many bad, vile things in my line of work, was so jaded that I laughed at her. I felt that no matter what I did, nothing changed. I had bursts of anger and even wanted to quit my job. I asked her how a prayer would help.”
“What did she say?”
“She said I’d have to try to find out. We ended up talking for hours. She said that even if I made a difference in one person’s life, or just try to help, it was all worth it, that it made me a hero in her eyes. It touched something inside me. After several months of dating Corina, praying became a habit to me. Every morning, I thank God for the new day and ask Him to help me live it according to His will. Every night, I thank God for all good that happened that day. Try it.”
“If you’re for real, you’re simply too good for me.” Emma turned and headed away from him.
Rodrigo reached her in several quick strides and simply walked beside her without saying a word.
He prayed to God to heal Emma’s soul.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE NEXT DAY, EMMA WOKE UP TO a sore throat, headache, and body aches. She snoozed her screeching alarm and struggled to open her eyes after getting too little sleep. She’d done another question-and-answer session yesterday, talking to families of drug addicts. She’d finally felt like she could make a difference, or at least try to.
Then Caleb had called around midnight. She’d spent hours trying to persuade him to give rehab a try. They’d recalled times when they’d cooked together. She’d told him many things yesterday.
Caleb, remember when you used to take simple ingredients and whip up something amazing? When you said that if you weren’t going to love what you were going to do, put all your heart there, it wasn’t worth doing it at all? That only food cooked with love and joy was going to be good for people who’d eat it? There was light in your eyes then. Where’s that guy who used to love life so much, who used to have joy? I want to bring him back!
In the end, Caleb had said he’d think about rehab, and it had warmed her heart. She loved him like a brother.
The evening and the night had turned out better than expected, but the morning was different.
Emma attempted to get up but felt too weak to do so.
After going through withdrawal, the flu wasn’t a big deal, but she had a hard time welcoming it.
What did Rodrigo say? Start each day with a prayer and finish it with a prayer, too?
“Thank You, Lord, for this new day,” she whispered. Her throat hurt, and it wasn’t easy to feel grateful.
But she was alive, breathing, and not in too much pain, and Junior, according to Joy’s call yesterday, was doing great.
“Thank You for my son feeling better. Please help me live this day according to Thy will. Amen.”
She opened her eyes. Her alarm screeched again, and she turned it off.
Emma groaned. Calling in sick meant Joy would have to go in on her day off, and Emma doubted that would make Dylan happy. The relationship between Emma and her ex-husband was too fragile as it was, and yesterday’s accident with Junior didn’t help.
This flu or cold or whatever it was had such bad timing! But if Emma was contagious, she shouldn’t be working near food, or people, for that matter.
She reached for her phone near her pillow, found Mari’s number, and pressed the call button.
“Hello, Emma!” Her boss’s voice was cheerful.
“I’m sorry, but I think I’ve got the flu.” Emma’s voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.
“Oh, no! I’ll send somebody with hot soup and tea.” Mari’s voice dripped with worry now.
Emma had pangs of conscience. She didn’t deserve such a nice supervisor. “It would help if you yelled at me, got upset with me, or threatened to fire me once in a while.”
Mari chuckled. “If you mess up, I will. Now, stay in bed,
eat soup, and take care of yourself. And that’s an order. Do it, or I might fire you.”
“Thank you, boss.” Emma smiled as she disconnected.
The second call with apologies went to Joy, but Joy was even kinder than Mari, which left Emma with a new dose of pangs of conscience. It wasn’t Emma’s fault she had the flu, but she tried so hard to repay Mari and Joy for their kindness.
After several long moments, Emma dragged herself out of bed and brushed her teeth. Her head felt heavy. Somebody had coughed yesterday in the ER, so that was where she’d probably gotten this.
Her doorbell rang. Must be someone Mari sent to bring her soup. Emma shuffled to the door. She looked in the peephole and froze.
Rodrigo!
Her hand flew to her head. She wished she’d brushed her hair. Well, at least her breath was fresh. Forgetting about her aches and pains, she ran back to the bedroom, changed into jeans and a T-shirt from her pajamas, and put on lip gloss.
What if he already left?
Emma dashed to the door and opened it. She heaved a sigh of relief. Rodrigo was still here, and she waved him in.
He stepped inside, holding a tall foam cup. “Good morning. I happened to have a cup of coffee at Mari’s Place today, and Joy said you were sick. Mari and Joy sent some soup.”
“I’m going to kill Joy when I get better,” Emma said to herself. How was she supposed to get over Rodrigo when he kept showing up in her life? Out loud, she said, “How nice of all of you. But you’re probably in a hurry...”
“Not at all. Where do you want the soup?” He looked around.
“On the table in the dining room.” She wondered how her apartment looked through his eyes.
Thankfully, she kept it tidy, unlike the room she’d crashed at in Chicago sometimes. But the furniture was scarce and secondhand, and she didn’t even have a TV. Mari paid her a fair salary, especially considering nobody else in Rios Azules wanted to hire Emma. But every spare penny she’d earned gone either to buy something for Junior or to Roy’s nonprofit.