Heart Unbroken (The Potter's House Books Book 3) Page 7

  On the day Roy died, he’d brought her to Christ. She’d given up drugs on the same day. Well, she’d given up heroin many times before, but she’d always returned to it. She’d been clean so far, despite constant cravings.

  Emma hiked her chin up. Living poorly was one thing she wasn’t ashamed of about herself.

  If Rodrigo noted her modest lifestyle, he didn’t show it.

  She studied inside her fridge as she waved for him to sit down. “I can make breakfast for you. What would you like?” She glanced at him.

  He claimed the seat at the table but got up immediately. “Oh, no. You’re not cooking.”

  She hiked up her chin higher. “Cooking is my job. And I happen to want an omelet for breakfast and not just soup.”

  She hoped she didn’t sound ungrateful. But cooking was one of her strong suits, and she was getting tired of Rodrigo knowing mostly bad sides of her. So, yes, she wanted to impress him. Her limbs grew weak. She’d better start cooking soon, before she passed out.

  “No problem. An omelet it is.” He strode into the kitchen, washed his hands, and opened the oven.

  Her jaw slackened. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for the skillet, of course. Do you mind if I use your apron?” He gave her an innocent smile.

  She just stared at him.

  “I’ll take that as you don’t mind.” He took out the skillet from the oven, placed it on the stove, and retrieved her apron from the oven’s handle.

  Emma leaned against the counter because her legs didn’t hold her well anymore.

  Rodrigo looked funny in her red apron, and that endeared him to her even more.

  Oh, no, no, no.

  She was falling in love with this man, and she had no clue what to do about it.

  Maybe her dizziness and foggy mind were symptoms of the flu. “I don’t need you to cook for me.”

  “If I hear any more objections, I’ll tell Mari. I heard what she ordered you to do. Or she’d fire you.”

  Emma chuckled. “That’s blackmail.”

  “I know.” He winked at her as he found the mixer, broke eggs into a bowl, and started beating them. “You sit down and relax. What would you like in your omelet?”

  “Tomatoes, peppers, and onions.” She sank into a chair while he got milk and vegetables from the fridge, peeled an onion, and washed the peppers and tomatoes. As he cut them, the aroma of fresh vegetables spread through the kitchen.

  Minutes later, he brought her a plate, piled high with the omelet. Then he brought a plate for himself.

  She bowed her head.

  Rodrigo said grace.

  “Amen,” she said when he was done.

  The meal was delicious, but she didn’t have much of an appetite. Still, she made a decent dent in her food. She resisted the urge to fan herself. Was her temperature rising, or was it her reaction to Rodrigo?

  He ate about half of his plate contents. Then his eyes narrowed, and he got up from his chair.

  “You’re burning up. You must have a fever.” Worry flashed in his eyes. “Do you have a thermometer?”

  That was one of the many things she’d never gotten around to buying. She should have, considering she had a weak immune system due to her addiction.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  Worry deepened in his eyes. “You should see a doctor. I’ll take you to the doctor when you’re done with breakfast.”

  Emma groaned. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll just take over-the-counter fever reducers.” That reminded her. She’d never gotten around to buying them, either.

  “Will you call the doctor, or do I need to?” Rodrigo pinned her with a stare.

  Emma sighed demonstratively, got her phone from the bedroom, and called her doctor. She was told he didn’t have any openings today.

  “No appointments for today. But I tried.” She put the phone on the table.

  Her stomach lurched, and her food threatened to come up.

  Oh, no!

  Her hand flew to her mouth as she desperately tried to keep the food down. Her limbs were so weak she wasn’t sure she’d make it to the restroom in time.

  Rodrigo seemed to guess her dilemma. He scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom. She hoped he’d leave.

  Instead, he pulled her hair back and held it while she hurled, returning the omelet and probably yesterday’s dinner, too.

  How embarrassing.

  Her cheeks flamed for a different reason than fever.

  She wanted to look—and smell—attractive to him, and not like this.

  But it would’ve been worse if he’d seen her during withdrawal. Several times, she’d tried to quit for Dylan’s sake without going to rehab. Emma shuddered at the memory of sweating, freezing, sweating again. Her bones had felt as if someone had been breaking them piece by piece. And then there had been unbearable muscle pain, the walls closing in on her, and an overwhelming fear...

  Rodrigo wet a towel and handed it to her, concern in his eyes and none of the disgust she’d expected.

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped her mouth.

  “Not your fault that you’re sick.” Rodrigo held her hair again while she brushed her teeth for the second time this morning.

  Emma welcomed the cooling effect of the mint-flavored toothpaste.

  “Do you think you can eat some soup now?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “The question isn’t whether I can eat it. It’s whether I can keep it down.”

  “Let’s give it a try.” His voice was comforting.

  “Where did you learn to be such a wonderful nurse?” she muttered on the way back to the dining room.

  “From Corina.”

  Figures.

  How could Emma ever measure up to her?

  After she managed to eat several spoons of soup and not return it, she leaned against the back of the chair, tired from the effort. Rodrigo placed the dishes in the dishwater, and she felt too weak to even protest.

  He returned without her red apron. “Ready?”

  She looked up at him. “For what?”

  “This.” He scooped her up, grabbed her purse from the counter, and carried her outside.

  Emma placed her head on his shoulder. As miserable as she was from the flu, she admitted it felt good to be in his arms. A pleasant sensation reached all the way to her heart. She even regretted that the way to his truck was so short.

  He took her to the ER and carried her inside, too. She caught several glances but was too out of it to worry about the Rios Azules rumor mill. After she completed the paperwork, she settled in a chair.

  “How do you feel?” Rodrigo wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  “My body aches, and my head hurts. Overall, good for a person with the flu.” Warmth spread inside her. Not just a feverish warmth but a pleasant warmth from his touch and concern.

  The last time she’d felt like that was... never. Or maybe on her first dates with Dylan, but she could hardly remember those.

  Emma sent up a silent prayer of gratitude.

  Surrounded by surprising peacefulness, she placed her head on his shoulder and drifted off. She stirred from a gentle touch on her cheek. She looked up and saw Rodrigo’s kind eyes.

  “What?” Dazed, she glanced around.

  “They are calling you in.”

  The doctor decided to run some tests, but soon enough, Rodrigo was driving her home. He stopped at the pharmacy and picked up her medications.

  “I take it you’ll come inside and make sure I consume all these horrible pills,” she said when he parked near her apartment.

  “Yep.” He smiled at her as if he were having the time of his life.

  “Is this the way you thought you’d be spending your vacation?” She placed her hand on the door handle.

  Before she had a chance to get out, Rodrigo ran around the truck and opened the door for her. “No, it’s not.”

  Her heart sank a little at his words.

  “It’s much better.” He smi
led at her.

  Emma stepped out of his truck and took the hand he offered. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true.” He gestured for her to lean on him.

  She did so.

  And then she felt something was off.

  She couldn’t pinpoint it, except her instincts yelled at her that something was wrong. She’d probably have felt it sooner if not for the flu. She scanned the street as they walked the short distance from the parking lot to her apartment. There was nothing out of place, and she relaxed a fraction.

  But then she felt it again.

  A silent warning.

  “What’s wrong?” Rodrigo squeezed her elbow.

  “I don’t know. I just have this feeling...” She shrugged. “I’ve been receiving texts. YOU WILL PAY. And now my inner alarm went off.”

  “Somebody is threatening you?” He seemed to go on high alert and scanned the neighborhood.

  “Might be somebody’s sick joke.” She had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  “Could it be that guy you had the confrontation with, Carl?” Rodrigo frowned.

  Emma shook her head, paying close attention to her surroundings as they reached her apartment. “I don’t think so.”

  “Would you mind if I open the door?” Rodrigo’s frown deepened.

  She handed him the keys.

  He tried the handle, inserted the key in the lock, and turned it quickly. He entered the house first, shielding her. She followed him with caution.

  Maybe I made a mountain out of a molehill.

  It happened so quickly she barely had time to take her next breath.

  Rodrigo was in the middle of the living room, putting the hands of an intruder behind him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  GNAT!

  “Let me go!” Gnat whined. “I’m a friend of Emma’s!”

  Emma sank into the nearest chair as the initial surprise drifted off and fatigue overtook her.

  “That’s not the warm welcome I expected.” A threat appeared in Gnat’s eyes, but he seemed to subdue it quickly.

  “You can let him go. Please.” She gestured to Rodrigo to release her unexpected guest. “This is my friend from Chicago, Gnat.” To think about it, she’d never known his first name, much less last name. Never bothered to ask. “This is my friend, Rodrigo.”

  “Great to meet you. I’ll leave you two to talk. But I’ll be behind the door if you need me, Emma.” The latter part Rodrigo said looking at Gnat, enunciating every word. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Rodrigo walked outside, but he left the front door ajar.

  Gnat claimed the seat near her. He looked gaunt, even thinner than the last time she’d seen him, and that was saying something. When she took a closer look, he was missing several teeth, too.

  His dark eyes, two bottomless wells of hopelessness, were sunken in. “Everybody misses you, Em.”

  Her heart squeezed with compassion. “Thanks, but I’m not coming back to Chicago.” She leaned forward. “Why don’t you stay here? I’ll find you a good treatment center. Let me help you.”

  Gnat grimaced. “I’m not quitting drugs. It’s useless. Listen, I need money.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t feed your habit.”

  “It’s much more than a habit.” Gnat’s eyes narrowed. “Not long ago, you were one of us. You’ll be again. Soon enough.”

  Emma wanted to think Gnat was wrong, but she knew she could relapse anytime. She understood Gnat all too well.

  Her nose prickled. She took a deep breath and sneezed at him.

  Gnat winced.

  She reached for the tissues on the table, grabbed a handful for herself, and handed him a few. “Sorry about that.”

  Gnat wiped his face as beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. “Are you sick?”

  “The flu.” She blew her nose loudly. “Have a fever, too,” she said cheerfully.

  “I hope you feel better.” Gnat moved his chair a little farther.

  “Yeah, me, too. I might be contagious. Oh, and I threw up a lot in the morning.”

  Gnat moved his chair farther from her again. “That’s too bad.”

  It was amazing Gnat was afraid of the flu, considering he constantly risked dying from an overdose or from contracting Hepatitis C or worse.

  “Hold on. I think I need to sneeze again.” Emma paused. “No, just a cough.” She coughed in earnest.

  Gnat jumped to his feet. “Maybe you should wear a mask. You know, so you don’t spread germs around.”

  “Good idea. How did you get inside, by the way?” She asked the question Rodrigo was probably too tactful to ask.

  Gnat’s lips stretched in an arrogant smile. “You know I have my ways.”

  Sadly, she did know. “Think about what I said. Quit drugs. Give yourself a future. I’ll help you in any way I can. I’ll pray for you. There’s still a chance for you.”

  He shook his head, his eyes becoming feverish. “Nobody ever gave me a chance, and you know it.”

  “I’m offering it to you now. I know you went through a lot of hardships. But you can change things. I’ve seen videos you’ve done on the internet. They are amazing.”

  Something flickered in his eyes. “You watched them?”

  “Judging by the number of views, many people watched them. You have a gift.” She meant every word.

  “What’s the use of trying to quit? I’ll just start all over again. Life is easier this way. Nobody ever cared about me.”

  “I do. More importantly, God cares about you. Sorry, now I’m going to sneeze.” She breathed in.

  Gnat jumped and walked backwards. “I think I’ll visit some other time. When you feel better.”

  “You’re leaving already?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Well, you probably need your rest.” He came back and sat down on the edge of the chair. “So, Em...”

  This time she sneezed without warning.

  Gnat grabbed the box of tissues and wiped his face, neck, and T-shirt.

  Emma felt a little lighter. She pressed her palm to her mouth. “Oops. I think I’m going to throw up. And I can’t make it to the bathroom.”

  “I’ll see you some other time, Em.” Gnat rushed out the door.

  As the nausea dissipated, she wondered where he’d parked because she hadn’t seen his car nearby when she’d walked to her apartment. But she had no doubt he was going to run all the way to his car, no matter how far away it was.

  Rodrigo stepped inside. Judging by the visible strain on his face, he was trying hard not to laugh.

  “Gnat is more dangerous than he looks. Or than his nickname sounds,” Emma said. She remembered rumors about Gnat getting in fights, not to mention thefts.

  Rodrigo’s expression sobered up. “Then I’d better watch out. Do you think he’ll come back?”

  Emma looked at the table where the box of tissues used to be. “Not anytime soon.”

  “I’m going to make you a cup of hot tea so you can take your medicines, okay? And then you’ll rest.” Rodrigo headed to the kitchen.

  “Yes, boss.” She gave him a mocking salute.

  About fifteen minutes later, she was safely tucked in bed, full of medicine, hot tea, and an unexpected happiness. Gnat’s appearance still bothered her, as well as the flu. But there was something to be said about Rodrigo’s careful hands as he placed a fresh box of tissues near her bed. Then he brought a chair, sat down, and leaned against the back of it, as if he intended to guard her sleep.

  Her heart shifted in her chest.

  Emma wished she could start over with a clean slate.

  She wished Rodrigo wasn’t grieving his wife.

  She wished he didn’t have to leave Rios Azules soon.

  So many things I shouldn’t be wishing for.

  “Thank you for being here. It means a lot to me.” Emma drank in the little time she had left with him carefully, the way she’d sipped the hot tea with lemon flavor, enjoying it but afraid to get burned.

 
; “Don’t mention it. I want you to get better soon.”

  “I’m trying as much as I can,” she said, meaning not just the flu.

  She didn’t want to waste the precious time with Rodrigo on sleep. But as she leaned against the pillows, her eyelids started drooping. She looked at Rodrigo from half-closed eyelids, committing his image to memory. Then her head grew heavy, and her eyes closed.

  “I’m falling for you, Rodrigo,” she whispered in her sleep.

  THREE DAYS LATER, THE roles reversed. Emma got over her flu fast, probably thanks to her caring nurse. But she seemed to successfully pass her germs to Rodrigo.

  He sniffled as he drank the hot tea she’d brought him to his rental. “I hate it that you have to see me like this. Weak. With watery eyes...”

  Emma leaned to him. “You’ve seen me like this, so it’s payback time. Make sure you finish this tea, because there’s more coming.”

  Rodrigo groaned. “I can’t drink any more tea.”

  “Chicken soup then? I cooked it, and I make a mean chicken soup if I say so myself.”

  Rodrigo lifted his hands in surrender.

  She left for the kitchen. Amigo followed her with a cheerful bark.

  Emma smiled as she put dog food into his bowl. “Of course I’m going to feed you. Sorry we can’t go outside now.” She paused.

  I’m talking to a dog! A dog!

  Well, this was an improvement from running from dead people when she had hallucinations during withdrawals in her teenage years.

  Emma patted Amigo on the back as he munched on his food and refreshed the water in his bowl. “And I can’t let you out because I don’t want to chase you all over the beach. Maybe we’ll go for a walk later.”

  Amigo lifted his head and nodded his approval.

  Emma washed her hands and poured steamy soup into a large blue bowl with a handle to carry it. The scent of vegetables and chicken spread in the air.

  She returned to Rodrigo and placed the soup on the nightstand.

  Rodrigo sneezed into a tissue. “Sorry.”

  “No problem. Here we go. Maybe it’s a good thing we’ve already seen each other at our worst.” She froze. No, he hadn’t seen her at her worst. That would be during withdrawal.