Separation Read Online Free

to her, or touch her?” Jameson asked. The nurse finally glanced at him, and then did a double take, obviously surprised that he hadn't even entered the room.
    “I doubt it. I mean, if you don't want to disturb her, I wouldn't start a conga line or anything, but just sitting and holding her hand should be fine,” she told him. He nodded.
    “Thank you. You can leave.”
    “Would you like me to bring you -,”
    “ No. Just leave.”
    He didn't enter the room till after the nurse had left. He was slow in making his way to the foot of the bed, his footsteps soft in the quiet room. Jameson stood there for a while, staring at her feet. Then he slowly lifted his eyes, following her form under the blankets. A form he had gotten to know very well. A form that he felt belonged to him, something he had molded, created , with his own two hands.
    Tatum .
    She was ghastly pale. Jameson hadn't gotten a very good look at her the night before, and he hadn't seen her for a month before that, so it was very possible that she had lost her tan in the onset of fall.
    Still. This wasn't a normal pale. She almost looked gray. Her lips were a neutral shade, blending into her face, and they were pressed tightly together. Her eyelids were twitching, and he wondered what she was dreaming about; wondered if it was a nightmare he had created. She had IVs in both arms and a hospital gown was visible, peeking out from under her blankets.
    She looked small. Vulnerable. Damaged. Jameson tried to remember how angry he'd been at her, how mad he'd been when he'd first seen those pictures of her with the baseball player. He couldn't seem to recall it, though; all the anger was gone. All the jealousy, all the meanness. Tatum could be stupid sometimes, he wouldn't deny that, but Jameson was the goddamn devil.
    And that was much, much worse.
    He pulled up a chair and sat next to her, studying her face. He didn't like to say it to her, because he wasn't that sort of man, but Tate was a very beautiful girl. Even without makeup, she was still stunning. Seven years ago, she had occupied his fantasies. Now all this time later, she occupied his mind.
    His heart.
    I didn't want to like this woman.
    He reached out and gently grabbed her hand, pulled it towards himself. She twitched once and Jameson held still, but when it was obvious that she wasn't going to wake up, he brought her hand closer. Ran his finger tips across her palm. She had long, delicate fingers. Almost graceful. The thought almost made him laugh – graceful wasn't normally a word he would have used to describe Tate.
    “I'm so sorry, baby girl,” he whispered, before bringing the back of her hand to his lips and kissing it.
    “I never thought I'd hear you say those words.”
    Jameson chuckled to himself and looked up. Of course. Sanders was standing in the doorway. His hair was immaculately done, his suit looked freshly pressed; though if Jameson had to guess, he would say it was the same suit Sanders had been wearing since yesterday.
    “How long have you known she was here?” Jameson asked in a soft voice, lowering her hand to the bed and lacing their fingers together.
    “Since right after she was admitted. I heard about the Bentley and the pool on my police scanner, then I called Mr. Hollingsworth,” Sanders explained, making his way into the room.
    “Did you really?”
    “Yes. He wasn't very nice at first. He told me to tell you that you can rot in hell. After I said I was no longer affiliated with you, he told me that she was here. I have been here ever since,” Sanders replied. Jameson nodded.
    “Will you tell me what all happened?”
    “Will you actually listen?”
    “Just this once, I think I will.”
     
    *
     
    Jameson continued on as if nothing was wrong. He went to work like normal – no one even asked a single question when Dunn's name was taken off the building, and Jameson didn't respond to any questions about Tatum or Sanders. He went to work at eight in the morning, and