New Year's miracle |18+

Chapter Three

Jillian

A cup appeared on the table in front of her, making everything inside tremble: turquoise, beloved, which, when she left, she did not take away, collecting her heart and soul in pieces. And I haven't collected it yet, to be honest.

Hank hooked her too much, penetrated too deeply, as if they had implanted this man into her heart, like a pacemaker, which, with its impulses, takes all the work of the body into its control. Her father had one... For some reason, I compared her to Hank all the time, albeit stupidly.

"Maybe not very good, sorry. There is only such a brew." it seems that he was even embarrassed, felt awkward, pouring hot water over the tea leaves rolled up in small "snails" at the bottom of his cup. "I didn't have much time for shopping..."

"Everything is fine."

Heck! She would like to just exhale and forget about everything. But it didn't work out. And yes, Jill was hurt and strongly by the way he reacted to her banal desire to help, to ease his pain...

Very necessary, big deal! So let him bend himself! She was asked not to help him with his injuries, after all!

"And how are you on this side? She left... Or did Douglas pull in?" she even looked closer, throwing her head back. An unusual tone, like another person.

And in the eyes of some kind of awkward expression hides, gloomy, gray... What's wrong with him again? Unhappy that Douglas told her about the situation? Didn't you want to know about this?

For Hank, his pride is a failure, that missed shot, an unacceptable weakness that no one should know about.

Well, there was nothing to abandon a partner in free swimming, giving up on the company! He got angry at the whole world after the accident, stopped doing business, immured himself here like a hermit... So, I got it now! There's nothing to get mad at her!

It's just strange, though, that Douglas regularly transferred money to his account, as far as Jill understood, and there was a void in the house, like thieves got in and took everything out... And these shutdowns for debts, hints of a neighbor on bottles? Is it really that bad?

And then her own and favorite cup... And in some worn, old, extracted from the depths of the cabinet, he makes tea for himself.

It occurred to Jill that it would be nice to take a closer look around here too. Somehow, he distracted her with a conversation. Yes, only, as soon as I raised my head, I collided with Hank's gaze. He was obviously waiting for an answer.

"Douglas asked you to back me up on the legal side of the issue." she shrugged her shoulders, she had nothing to hide.

It was uncomfortable in the jacket, but there was still no desire to take it off. Why is it so cold? Her fingers are already icy, it seems. She wrapped her arms around the cup, greedily absorbing the warmth, reveling in the very feeling of the texture of this ceramic. Like an echo of sweetness from the past, without remembering the bitterness.

"And you agreed to come back?" he was surprised, it was obvious.

"I don't leave friends and family in trouble. Even those who have offended me greatly." I didn't want it to be a reproach. Although, probably, it will not sound otherwise. Her resentment has not gone away, it is spilling out... "Yes, and I did not return to the company on a permanent basis. Here I will help you as a consultant." I couldn't stand it. I still looked away, staring into the gray darkness outside the window, where snow was unexpectedly falling heavily.

She hadn't fully figured out this stupid situation and Douglas's flight herself yet, so that she could explain something intelligently to Hank. Especially about their own plans for the future. Jill simply did not build such now – Hank showed the meaninglessness, by the way, imprinting it into reality. Twice...

For the first time, she thought it was for the best, filled with happiness, enjoying the unexpected feelings! The second time... Well, Jill has learned thoroughly: the collapse of plans and hopes can be destructive.

No, of course, she was now planning something for the near future: to visit some exhibitions, go to a*****e or salon, go to work every day, pay bills. But so far, I haven't even tried to guess or think about what I will do in six months or a year. What's the point if it never worked?

"Do you want to make God laugh? Tell him about your plans," this is about her life, definitely.

But Jill herself has rarely been funny lately. However... with her inherent single-mindedness, she just decided one day that from now on spontaneity is her middle name!

So, it turned out today, when Douglas called and, with panic, despair literally permeating his voice, asked her to come, and then help him somehow get out of this situation. Disastrous for their business, there's nothing to hide. However, Douglas has never been the brain center of this company. He maintained well» established processes, dealt well with finances, it's true. Otherwise...

They have always had Hank as a generator of ideas and that volcano of energy, the ability to solve any issue and persuade any potential client... In any case, the old one, not this one: gloomy, hard and sharp, like a coil of barbed wire. Yes, and under electric tension, judging by the way he now held the line of his shoulders, how he looked at her from under his frowning eyebrows.

Actually, he was the one who took her away from the last company when, after a couple of consultations, he suddenly decided that Jill should work with them. Persuaded, convinced, brought "reinforced concrete" arguments...

And from the groom... also took away. Hank was able to convince, if he was burning with something. And then it wasn't that spark between them, the same volcano of desire, passion and energy pulsed. However, she exploded with feelings no less, perhaps for the first time in her life, she was already so immersed in the arguments of reason and self-control.

Well, the more bitter was the disappointment...

"Besides, don't forget that I also have a percentage of passive income from the company, so it's not profitable for me to have Douglas destroy everything." still not looking at Hank, Jill added a rational reason for her presence here. So that I don't invent anything for myself, if anything. "Just like you..." here, of course, she had doubts after all she had seen.

Something was clearly not right now in the relationship of the "Hank-money" couple, judging by the situation in the apartment. However, Jill had no doubts–the Phoenix company was his life's work, his most passionate and crazy dream, something that he usually spent all his resources and strength on. And, no matter how much his character deteriorated after the accident, it is doubtful that Hank will allow even his best friend to destroy his dream. This man was not that kind of person.

Still not warmed up, and is it possible if the source of her chilliness was due to the internal extinction of her soul, Jill sipped hot tea. Either she occupied her hands, or she was just trying to get a break.

The tea really wasn't the best. But it's not a disaster, you can drink. But Hank was in no hurry to try his own. How to answer her? The man froze at the windowsill, making Jill suddenly realize that she had taken the only chair in the room, and was looking at her too closely. Unusually long for him, instantly "reading" the information he needs from the interlocutor... Or confident that he understands everything that way. It's kind of weird for a person who hates procrastination.

The silence in the kitchen was clearly prolonged. It was unnerving. As was his gaze, which Jill didn't understand at all right now. But she wasn't going to let him influence her or suppress her!

"Hank? I would like to understand if you plan to somehow participate in solving the problems that have arisen?" she tried so desperately to pull away that the question sounded dry and even pretentious.

Not that Jill planned it, no. But don't apologize now. Damn it! How everything is going badly. I shouldn't have agreed... but how to avoid it?

"You know very well that I will not stay away." frowning, he squeezed out through his teeth, once again passing his hand over his forehead, hair, pressed on the back of his head.

It is unclear whether he is angry, or if he feels bad? But this tone still hurt... Or is it revenge on her?

"Good... Good..." Jill even regretfully pushed away her favorite cup, which still had tea in it. But there was no need to linger. She got the result she came to Hank for. "And call Douglas, by the way. He couldn't get you on the phone." she got up with a strange feeling, as if her muscles were aching and numb. And now everyone resisted her intention to leave the place, on some subcortex recorded as "home".

"Discharged." again that unaccustomed confused and slightly guilty expression in his eyes. "There has been no electricity for a week." as if apologizing.

I'm not used to this look from this man. I didn't understand.

"Oh, yeah... Sure."

Wow! They did not even imagine such a reason when they pondered in the morning why Douglas could not get through to his partner and friend. And it didn't occur to her when the neighbor told her about the shutdown...

And then a new realization hit Jill... a wild fear that ran through the cold through illness... I remember how he lay in the hospital for a month, barely moving; how then she helped him get up, even though Hank drove him away, shouted at her to leave. Why, he couldn't even get out of bed himself! And how he just had a cramp, I remembered. And I remembered that intracranial pressure could rise after the accident (I listened to what the doctors said then, unlike him), and that this could lead to hemorrhage. I did not forget, it turns out...

The realization that all of this could have happened to Hank on any day of the last week suddenly blocked everything that happened! Nothing was significant compared to the fact that this man might need help, and he would not be able to call anyone. Jill felt the blood drain from her head from this terrible realization, causing her stupid heart to pound tensely.

And a clear and clear understanding of how important he was to her, even after all the pain that he caused, disoriented her, making her lose touch with reality.

And from all this (from her own discomfort, from feelings that still hurt her soul around him, from resentment, her love and his incomprehensible behavior, from those heavy looks), Hank wanted to run away! As soon as possible! Get out of here! Get out of this apartment...

Still, Jill didn't rush into the hallway. On the contrary, somehow slowly, as if her muscles were finally shackled by the cold that settled in Hank's house, she opened her bag, for some reason painfully pinching her frozen fingers, and pulled out a spare portable charger. I always carried it with me so that a suddenly discharged phone would not interfere with work.

"Here you go. You'll definitely hold out until tomorrow. And there, in the office..." leaving the power bank on the table, she stopped in midsentence, not daring to look up at Hank for some reason.

Not that this man knew how to accept help. But this time I hoped that she would react differently. In his own interests...

"Jill..." there was something in his voice that made her tremble.

Four simple letters of her name, and like a hot wave passed through her body, piercing her chilled veins and muscles, warming her in a way that only Hank could. And it scared me no less than anything else.

Twitched.

"I'll go. I still have to go to my main job before six, and write an application for leave at my own expense. And I wanted to go to the store, and I also wanted to get tickets..." she began to chatter nervously.

For some reason, she dumped all of today's plans on Hank, not being able to pull herself together in time. Abruptly pulled the zipper, closing the bag, and just as awkwardly, convulsively rushed to the exit from the kitchen.

"Jill!" Hank called out to her in a different way, apparently following behind. "Wait!"

"I'll see you at the office tomorrow..." she didn't look back, pulling the door handle. And only when she didn't give in, did she remember that Hank had locked the door.

Cursing in her mind, she reached for the latch.

"Jill! Oh, you... damn it!" Hank's sharp cry, as well as his swearing, were a surprise to the girl. As well as the fact that she suddenly found herself pushed against the wall and pinned down by a heavy, massive male body... too familiar, too exciting and so dear!

However, she still didn't have time to understand anything, didn't even roughly grasp the situation, and Hank began to slide down her.

"Hank!"

Heck! Well, when will she be able to erase him from her heart?

She turned around sharply, trying to regain her freedom of movement. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, gazing with incomprehension at the pain-twisted face.

"What happened?" realizing that she couldn't hold him despite the fact that Hank had lost a decent amount of weight over the months, she knelt on the floor next to him.

The man sat down, pulling his knee up to his chest, and rubbed his shin hard, resting the back of his head against the wall where they... um... flopped down? Collapsed?

"That f*****g leg! Walked too fast, cramp again." through clenched teeth, he pushed out irritably and angrily. It was like he was growling.

Well, exactly, like some kind of monster, by God! The eyebrows are frowned, the face is distorted with an evil grimace, crossed with scars and abrasions, the veins on the neck are swollen with tension, some feverish blush has appeared on the cheeks...

"Very painful?" not knowing how to help now, she just automatically extended her hand and began to rub his calf muscle too. "Doesn't let go?" she leaned closer, still supporting him with her other hand on the shoulder, although it was not clear if he needed support from her.

"Jill..."

He looked at her strangely, his face thrown back. Her hair, disheveled from this shake and fuss, slid over Hank's forehead, over his cheeks.

And the faces are suddenly so close. They have not been so close for a very long time, when you can see the thin veins on the temples and beads of his sweat, from pain and tension, apparently. Stubble on the cheeks. Long. I haven't shaved for exactly two or three days...

Her throat was blocked, a breath of air was stuck, neither up nor down could be pushed. And from Hank's parted, tense lips, a soft stifled sigh escaped. It was as if his chest had been stolen by his breath.

"What?" it sounded hoarse and confused. Like a little scared...