Dr. Brandt: Chapter 22

“No, I mean, I love that you’re helping Jackson.”

Cam studied me with the most adorable, humorous expression. “No, that’s not what you meant,” he pressed with a look of curiosity.

“Um, yeah.” I stared at him. “Yeah, it’s exactly what I meant.”

“No,” Cameron insisted. “We weren’t even discussing me helping Jackson when you dropped that hot potato in my lap.”

I rose, getting flustered, “I didn’t mean to say—”

“Didn’t mean to say what you meant?” he said, standing up with me.

“Cameron, I’m not doing this with you.” I shook my head like I was trying to shake the crazy out of my system. “I won’t let you hurt me again. I promised myself that I would never go down this road again with you, charming, hero doctor or not.”

He reached for my arm, which I instantly pulled away from him, “Hear me out.”

“Hear you out? Hear you out?” I stepped further back, the anger resurfacing from the day he messaged me to break it off. “No, Cam, I will not hear you out. In fact, I tried to question you after I thought your break-up message was a damn joke. And you know what I got in return?”

“Jessica,” he pressed.

“Don’t Jessica me, Cameron,” I said, knowing my gaze was icy. “Do you know there is only one emoji in all of the fucking emojis that I despise more than anything?”

“No, but I should be happy to know you’ve taken your anger for me out on an emoji instead.”

I folded my arms. “The thumbs up emoji,” I said. “I hate that emoji because of you. So, yeah, you and that damned emoji. So I guess I hate you both equally.”

Cameron covered his smile. I hated when he was on the verge of laughter and trying to conceal it without breaking eye contact. This stupid expression is why I had a handsome son sleeping on Cam’s sofa.

“I don’t mean to be a stickler here, but I think back then, they were called emoticons,” he said as seriously as he could.

“Seriously?”

“Well, fuck,” he said. “I don’t know about the emoji, but I would at least like to try to win your heart back.”

“It’s like I put all this energy into a response, and all I get is a fucking thumbs up? How goddamn rude can someone be? I’d rather get the middle finger emoji.”

“You told me to be safe and to follow my dreams, no matter where they lead.”

“I know,” I said, eyes wide with shock that this dick still wasn’t getting it, “and that got me a stupid thumbs up? It’s bullshit, and now I’m fucking pissed again.”

“Jessa,” he said, staring at me with some sad expression, “I read what you wrote, and I knew if I saw you, I wouldn’t leave, and I wouldn’t have been able to say goodbye. So, after reading what you wrote, I just tried to end it as easily as possible for both of us.”

“And you really thought a thumbs up was the way to do that?” I sighed. “I need to go. And I didn’t mean to drop an I love you bomb just now. I’m going through a lot, and I’m convinced I may be having a mild nervous breakdown.”

“You may be because I had no idea that a thumbs-up emoji would be why I can never have another chance to prove myself to you.”

“It would take a whole hell of a lot,” I said, softening up a little, the panic of saying I love you fading. “I never expected our relationship ending would make me hate an emoji, but it has, and it’s going to take a whole hell of a lot to—” I stopped and looked at the sudden sincere sadness on Cameron’s face. “Why did you really respond that way, like what we had wasn’t a big deal?”

His lips tightened. “Because I knew I was making the biggest mistake of my life by leaving you. What we had was a very big deal to me, Jessa. After reading what you wrote, I cried for the first time since my sister died. I didn’t want to leave you, but I knew I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” He cocked his head to the side, staring at me, then looking back to the house, “I can’t say that I regret my decision because I don’t believe in regrets. We all make decisions that lead us where we need to be. If I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t have the career I have now, and I wouldn’t have been able to help all the children I’ve been privileged to help.”

I remained silent as Cam grew more somber.

“Jessa, I have to believe that there are bigger forces in the universe at work. Maybe I left while you were pregnant with our son so I’d be able to save him one day. It’s a thought, and I’ve seen too many miracles in my day-to-day work to dismiss it.”

Cameron’s excuse was something that I’d ordinarily counter with a snide remark, but it resonated deep within me. Cam wouldn’t have tried as hard as he did to succeed if he knew I was pregnant, which was why I never told him. He would’ve stayed with me and missed out on all the incredible opportunities that ultimately landed him as the top pediatric neurosurgeon in the country. And if that had happened, there would be no one to help our son now. Looking through that lens, it seemed like divine intervention.

“What are you thinking?” Cameron asked curiously.

“You’re right,” I nodded. “When I think about it that way, I get it. But I think we should keep all this focused on reuniting for Jackson’s health and not our relationship.”

“What if Jackson’s health depended on our relationship?”

“Now, you’re just making shit up,” I softly laughed. “Listen, I need to get Jackson home. I need some time to think.”

“Come with me to Monterey. Allow me an opportunity to gain a bit more trust—”

“Cameron,” I said softly, “you don’t need us to go on a road trip with you and your friends to assess Jackson’s strengths and weaknesses for this surgery. Please stop trying to do this.”

“Do what, Jessa? I want to get to know the kid a bit better. I’m virtually bound by law with my friends’ kids, and I’d like to take these next two days off to spend some time around Jackson. I want to help him trust me as his surgeon.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “Bound by law?”

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded with fake-serious eyes, “these kids are no fucking joke. I don’t think I’ve ever met a five-year-old as lethal as Jacob Mitchell’s son. With his icy gaze, that kid could likely freeze you where you stand.”

I rolled my eyes, “Icy gaze? What is he, the frost king?”

“It’s what I’ve got him labeled as anyway,” Cameron said.

“I’ll see if Jackson’s feeling up for it.”

“Great,” Cameron said with more excitement than I imagined he should have. But then again, this was Cameron; he was a big kid in a grown man’s body ninety percent of the time. “I’ll have a car pick you two up tomorrow and bring you to the airport.”

“Airport?”

“You’re not going to want to drive there if you don’t have to. It’ll be worth it, trust me.”

“Last time you asked me to trust you, you dumped me with an emoji.”

“Now you’re just making that story eviler than it really was.”

I shrugged.

“I think this will do Jackson good,” Cameron said, nearly marching me up to the house as if we were leaving for the airport this instant. “With what I have planned, this could help Jacks explore other passions outside of sports.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll see.”

When the car pulled through the security entrance of the private airport—and not a regular airport—I shook my head at Cameron’s bright idea.

“Has he lost his damn mind?” I said, glancing around at all the parked, private airplanes.

“No way,” Jackson said in a low voice of excitement.

“Exactly, there is no way we’re going up with this adrenaline junkie of a man in one of those planes. Good God, Cameron.”

After some Googling, I read that Cam’s parents were killed in a plane crash years ago, and I was confused that the man would dare to take one of these glorified tuna cans into the air. Was he insane? Maybe he was, but I sure as hell wasn’t. I was not trying to die today.

“How would you know he was an adrenaline junkie?” Jackson questioned me, reminding me that I should probably tell him his surgeon was also his dad, whom I’d dated in college.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, holding my ringing cell phone up to my ear as I called Cameron.

“Hey, I see the car you’re in. Tell Branson to pull around the side, and I’ll meet you back there,” Cam said.

“I’m telling Branson that we’re turning around, actually. I’m not flying in some small-ass plane,” I said.

“Jessa,” he sounded annoyed.

“Nope,” I was stern. I was not doing this. “Cam, I do not wish to bring up the death of your parents—my deepest and most sincere condolences, by the way. I shouldn’t have had to read about that on the internet, but that’s for another time—but please know that I cannot begin to imagine what you’re thinking.”

“That I’m not afraid,” he answered dead seriously. “I won’t let the shit that scares me stop me from living. I got my pilot’s license to face it head-on so that I can move forward.”

“Fine. I’m not afraid of flying.” The car pulled to a stop.

“Bullshit,” he said, scaring the crap out of me when he jerked open my door. “Yeah, you are, and that’s why we’re doing this.”

“There are so many colorful cuss words I could spew at you, but I won’t because I wouldn’t want Branson to judge me harshly.”

Cameron chuckled, “Branson? I thought you’d be more concerned about how your son would judge you.”

“Jacks wouldn’t judge me because Jacks has also pushed me to my limits with decisions such as this, and he has already heard the dark side of my foul mouth unleash hell and fury for his bad decisions.”

“Thanks, Branson,” Cameron said, giddier than a kid jumping on a trampoline. “Okay, I’d love to take you to Monterey on my plane, but it’s in maintenance and won’t be ready until next week.”

“Maintenance?” I said as Jacks and I followed Cameron, who led the way through the hangars.

“Yeah, routine. They check everything out and ensure things are sound on the plane. Now,” he said, moving on and not letting my irritated mood derail him. “I know you fear private planes, and I’ll give you that; however, we’re not traveling that way.”

“Oh, even better,” I said, not knowing what Cameron was up to.

“No freaking way,” Jackson said excitedly.

“Hell, yeah,” Cameron said, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’re going in this chopper.”

“Are you out of your damn mind?” I said, pulling the strap of my purse tighter against my neck on my shoulder. “Cameron, what the actual fuck?”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of helicopters too? Shit. This thing has a jet engine, a—”

“I just don’t understand why we’re not flying commercially. I swear, sometimes I can see that spoiled rich boy that I remember oozing out of you.”

“Remember? What the hell, Mom?”

“Yeah, Mom. What the hell?”

“Mom?” Jackson pressed, but this wasn’t the time to get into all the details of why I was seemingly so knowledgeable about his doctor. The only way to get the boy off my ass about me knowing more than I led on about his surgeon was to give the surgeon his way. And that meant we were all about to go flying in a mother fucking helicopter.

“Let’s just go,” I said, eying Cameron. “I’m trusting that you’re as good a pilot as you are a surgeon. If you kill us, I will kill you.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Cameron said. “All right, Jacks, you’re sitting up front with me.” He looked at me as I stepped in and sat in the first leather executive seat I could find.

“This is quite impressive,” I conceded.

I was the first to admit that I’d had a short fuse lately, but I didn’t want to be a wet blanket all the time. There was a time when I wasn’t so cautious, and maybe now was a good time to resurrect some of that. Jackson was more excited than I’d ever seen him, and watching him interact with Cam this way hit me in my soft spot.

I didn’t want to get too attached to these feelings, but for a split second, seeing Jackson flying with his dad in a helicopter made me think of what could’ve been if Cam had never left and we’d been a family from the beginning. Of course, I pushed the thought away as soon as it intruded on me, but I couldn’t deny that there was a part of me that’d always wondered what it would’ve been like.

Cameron had never shied away from Jackson being his. Instead, it seemed like he was embracing it. Something told me to relax and let Cameron assess Jackson, and while he did that, I could determine how Cameron was with Jackson.

It was probably a horrible idea trying to imagine Cameron bonding with his son like this, but it was something that felt so right I wouldn’t push it away. They always say to go with your gut instinct, and my gut instinct was telling me to trust Cameron.

I only hoped it wasn’t a mistake.