she was going to feel any second.
Simon took her hand and pulled her down the corridor. He drew her into an empty room.
“I’m sorry,” she said, facing him. “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst.”
“Why not? You don’t know me well enough to think otherwise.”
The room was dark, the hospital bed stripped of sheets, the blinds on the window open to the night. His forgiveness unnerved her. She’d thought he would get angry, rather than understand.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Losing him like that must be hard.”
He shrugged. “I never saw him. He died before I got started. Sometimes it happens like that. It’s not always my job to save them from death. I’m there to make them look as normal as possible. There are limits to what it means to fit in.”
Although he was looking at her, she had a feeling he didn’t
Was he talking about himself when he mentioned fitting in? Yet he wore his scars like a badge of honor. Or were they a reminder?
She raised her hand and rested her fingers on his cheek. The spiraling marks were raised and hard. He pressed his hand on top of hers, as if holding her in place.
“They’re not just here,” he said, his gaze more intense. “They go down my neck and across my chest. There are a few on my back and my arm.”
She didn’t know what to say, what he needed from her. Telling him she wouldn’t have minded didn’t seem to be enough.
“You don’t have to worry,” he continued. “You wouldn’t have seen them. If we’d made love tonight, I would have kept on a T-shirt. It’s easier.”
“Easier for who?”
“Both of us.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted it to be easier. Seeing him was a part of being intimate. Or maybe that’s what he didn’t want. He didn’t want to be seen. Not fully.
If that was true, who had hurt him? Who had taught him it was better to conceal the truth? Or had he decided that by himself?
She found herself wanting to see the scars, to touch them. Ridiculous, she told herself. It wasn’t as if she could heal him.
He lowered his hand and she did the same. Still staring into his eyes she said, “My friend Pia just had twins. Girls. That’s why I’m here. It’s kind of a town thing. We’re filling up the maternity waiting room. There’s some food. Are you hungry? My mom’s here. I know she’d want to say hi.”
“I’m not the party type.”
“It’s not a party. Just people getting together. Birth is a time to celebrate.”
He turned away from her. For a second she thought he was going to leave, but then he faced her again.
“This is who I am,” he said, his voice a low growl.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m a brilliant surgeon. I can work magic in the operating room. I can take someone who has to creep in the shadows and turn him or her into someone who can pass for normal. Do you know what that means to them? To be just like everyone else?”
She shook her head, not sure what he wanted.
His mouth twisted. “You can imagine, but you’ll never know.” Now he touched her face. “You have the gift of beauty. Do you know what we find beautiful and what we find ugly is a difference of millimeters? Eyes too small, an uneven mouth. Not even inches. Fractions.” He traced her lips with his thumb. “You’re physically perfect.”
“I’m not.”
“Close enough. But there are others like me—the monsters. I take them from the shadows.” He raised both his hands in front of her. “Like magic. Training, hard work and a gift. But it comes at a price. I don’t belong, Montana. I don’t have your beauty and I don’t have your world. I do my work, I stay apart. It’s better that way.”
“That’s so much crap,” she said before she could stop herself. “There’s nothing that says you have to sacrifice yourself to be good at what you do. Yes, you have a great talent and you’ve worked hard to nurture it. You’ve decided to be the best and you are. But there’s no giant accountant in the sky. No one who says if you have a life, if you belong, you lose everything.”
“You don’t know that. I do.”
Was this the problem? Simon at his essence? A man who believed the price to save the world was to sacrifice himself?
She couldn’t imagine such a thing, but knew he wasn’t lying.
The room was dark enough that it was difficult to make out his features. She could see the scars, and knew the unmarked side of his face illustrated the beauty he had talked about. The perfection. When he stared in the mirror, he saw both halves of what he did as a surgeon. He was the before
Words bubbled to the surface, but none of them would make a difference. She didn’t fully understand the problem, nor was she qualified to fix it. She only knew he was in pain and somehow she wanted to make him feel better.
“Come with me,” she instructed and took his hand.
She expected him to protest, but he went along with her. They walked to the elevator, then got inside. She pushed the button that would take them down two floors.
The nursery windows were lined with people pointing and waving. Denise had left, probably to take Peter home, and Dakota had returned to her family. But Nevada was still there, along with Mayor Marsha and everyone else who had waited to hear the news of the twins’ birth.
Marsha saw them first.
“Montana, there you are. Oh, and you brought Dr. Bradley.” She approached them. “We met when you first arrived.”
“I remember.”
Simon shook hands with her.
“I’m here to welcome our newest citizens,” Marsha said with a smile.
Montana wasn’t touching Simon, but she still felt the stiffness in his body. This was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. There was no way to tell him that she hadn’t brought him here to talk to other people. Instead, she’d wanted him to see the babies.
Fortunately, Mayor Marsha excused herself and most of the other visitors drifted away. Montana was able to walk to the glass and stare at the two sleeping newborn girls, with the last name of Moreno tagged on the bassinets.
“These are the embryos that Crystal left Pia. She had them implanted and now they’re born.” She glanced at him. “You can’t do anything that compares with this.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Every day people get to create a miracle. They have children, grandchildren. And there’s no price put on that. No exacting from the gods. Why do you think what you do is so damn special that you have to pay for the rest of your life?”
His expression went carefully blank. She had no idea what he was thinking, but she had a feeling it wasn’t good. She’d hoped to convince him that he didn’t have to suffer to be brilliant.
But instead of saying he understood, or arguing, he simply stepped back, said, “Excuse me.” And then was gone.
She was left alone by the nursery, aware that instead of making Simon understand, she’d insulted him and caused him to feel even more isolated. She’d had her chance and she’d blown it.
DENISE STOPPED AT THE CORNER and waited until the car to her right cleared the intersection.
“Renting will give you a chance to figure out if you like the neighborhood,” she said as she accelerated.
“It’s Fool’s Gold, Mom,” Kent told her from the passenger seat. “There aren’t any bad parts of town.”
