But her reasoning took a nosedive a moment later when she glanced to her left and spied Jackson walking in her direction, carefully balancing two laden down cardboard drink carriers in his hand, and accompanied by a stunning blonde woman. Desperate not to be seen, Scarlett hastily ducked inside the ladies room two doors down an intersecting hallway, cursing beneath her breath at how much pain that sudden movement caused to shoot through her body. She was panting, doing her best to breathe through the pain, and all too aware of how badly her legs were shaking and the way sweat was beading on her forehead and upper lip.
Fortunately no one else entered the restroom for the five minutes or so it took to regain her composure. Tentatively, she poked her head outside the door, looking up and down the hallway in case anyone was walking past. Satisfied that no one had noticed her, she slinked down the shorter hallway until it once again intersected with the main one that went past the waiting room. She found her hiding place, once more angling her body in just the right spot to be able to see inside the waiting room without being seen herself.
Jackson was still distributing the various coffee drinks he’d apparently volunteered to fetch, handing the last cup to one of his brothers. Scarlett drank in the sight of him hungrily, as though she was starved for a mere glimpse. Unlike the other men of his family who were all wearing khaki trousers and polo shirts, Jackson was dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain gray T-shirt. He looked tired, his dark hair mussed, and he was sporting what looked like two-day stubble.
After handing the cup to his brother, Jackson sunk into an empty chair, right next to the gorgeous blonde he’d been walking down the hallway with. And from the way the woman instantly snuggled up to him, linking elbows as she rested her head on his shoulder, Scarlett assumed that this had to be his girlfriend - the one he’d been oddly reluctant to discuss with her.
Unsurprisingly, the woman fit the image Scarlett had created of her almost exactly - perfect hair, flawless features, a figure to die for, and impeccably dressed. She guessed the blonde’s crisp white capri pants, sleeveless orange silk blouse, and coordinating high-heeled, strappy orange sandals must have cost a small fortune. She’d glimpsed similar looking garments in the horrendously overpriced clothing boutiques at the Biltmore, and shuddered as she quickly added up the approximate cost of each item. And that didn’t include the blonde’s orange leather satchel bag, and gold and diamond jewelry. Maintaining all that sleek, shiny blonde hair and tanned, glowing skin wouldn’t come cheap either, nor would the perfectly manicured nails and toes.
Yes, this woman was the perfect match for a man like Jackson. She was every bit as attractive as he was, was well dressed and exquisitely groomed, and practically shrieked money. There was little to no doubt in Scarlett’s mind that Jackson’s parents and the rest of his family approved of her, and would be more than happy to welcome her into their fold.
‘Unlike you,’ she reminded herself silently. ‘You would only be an embarrassment, the ugly secret that reared its head. No one would like you or approve of you or make you feel like part of the family. But you already know how all of that stuff feels, don’t you? Might as well be the story of your life. So if being with a man like Jackson Gilmore wasn’t already the most outrageous fairy tale you could have dreamed up, now you know for absolute sure that it is. I mean, look at yourself, for Christ’s sake. You look like a gutter urchin, while his girlfriend looks like a supermodel. How pathetic you were, Scarlett, to even imagine for one second that he liked you. Stupid, stupid girl.’
And because she was hurting badly right now - physically from having overexerted herself by walking so much, and emotionally from seeing the man she was so unwisely attracted to cuddling up with his beautiful, eminently suitable girlfriend - she started slinking back down the hallway towards the elevators, once again being oh so careful not to be noticed or raise any suspicions.
Two nurses walked past her without breaking stride, one of them carrying a cellophane wrapped gift basket, while the other had a giant stuffed pink pony tucked under one arm. The two women chuckled as they unlocked a door to what was apparently some sort of storage room or oversized closet.
“I swear I’ve never had a patient who received anywhere near as many gifts as this girl,” the nurse carrying the huge basket remarked as she set it down on a shelf.
The other nurse nodded as she plopped the stuffed pony on another shelf. “There’s a whole lot of people who love Hannah, apparently. But evidently none of them got the word that the poor little thing can’t have any gifts in her room for awhile. Gosh, look at all this stuff!”
Scarlett’s eyes widened as she glimpsed inside the room/closet, realizing that the nurses weren’t exaggerating. Inside the space, stacked on metal shelving units, tables, and even the floor were dozens upon dozens of floral arrangements, plants, gift baskets of all sizes and shapes, balloon bouquets, and a wide assortment of stuffed toys. Her gaze fell longingly on a fluffy white teddy bear with a huge red bow around its neck, then moved to a rainbow hued stuffed unicorn, before settling on the giant pink pony that had just been added to the jaw dropping assortment of gifts.
“Has the family said anything about what they want to do with this stuff?” the first nurse asked of the other. “I mean, the stuffed animals and the gift baskets without any perishable food can obviously be saved until Hannah’s allowed to have them with her. But the flowers and plants aren’t going to last for weeks. Neither will the balloons.”
The other nurse nodded. “I spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Brockmeyer a little while ago. One of the family is going to take a video and photos of all the gifts, so they can show them to Hannah when she’s feeling better. They want us to distribute the flowers and balloons to other patients in the hospital, along with any of the gift baskets that contain fruit or other perishable stuff. Isn’t that so kind of them?”
As the nurse with the room key began to lock the door behind them, Scarlett continued walking towards the elevators before the two women could notice her. But they didn’t seem at all aware of her presence, heading off in opposite directions without sparing her a glance.
‘Same old story, huh?’ she asked herself bitterly as she limped painfully toward the elevators. ‘Nobody pays the slightest attention to you, doesn’t even realize you’re here. Hannah gets showered with gifts that she’s too sick to even acknowledge, while no one’s sent me a damned thing. Not a card or a single balloon or even a bouquet of weeds they picked from the side of the road. And I sure as fuck don’t have a whole roomful of stuffed animals. And while I might be way too old to want it, I really, really would have loved to have that pink pony.’
She made it back to her room, almost mindless with the pain by now, and didn’t even bother to take off the borrowed bathrobe before curling up into a semi-fetal position in the bed. She pulled the blankets over her head, wishing with all her might that she could find a dark cave somewhere and just crawl inside and hide from the rest of the world for a few weeks. She had never felt so sad and miserable and unloved in her entire life, and that was really saying something, given what a shitty time she’d had of it over the years.
Spitefully, she wished now she’d never agreed to this bone marrow donation, had never demanded to meet the father who had never given her a second thought, and that she had told Jackson Gilmore to get lost and not bother her ever again. Because even though she’d done the right thing for Hannah, had taken the necessary steps to help her half-sister live, she had managed to make her own miserable life that much worse in the process.