“He’s way too good to be true. It’s probably best to leave it as it is.” I plaster a smile on my lips that I hope she believes and try to own my comment. It feels like I’ve been doing that a lot lately.
“If you say so,” she says as I look toward the ceiling to avert my eyes because I don’t want her looking too closely. If she does, she’ll see the truth. She nudges me with her elbow. “Look at you all hitting-it-and-quitting-it. I never knew you had that in you.” She pats a hand over her heart, and sighs affectionately. “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come in such a short time.”
“You’re such a drama queen.”
“Always. All I have to say is, damn, can I get a rebound like that? I know my divorce was years ago, but Momma needs some of that.” She adds a nod for emphasis, and I take the chance to segue the conversation away from Slade and the ache in my chest every time she mentions his name.
“Besides, the last thing I need right now is to be distracted by a man when I have my big interview to prepare for.”
“That’s right!” Kelsie reaches out, grabs my hand, and squeezes. “But I don’t think you need much preparation. I can feel it in my bones that you’re going to nail it. It’s your time to shine, and I can’t wait to put my sunglasses on so I can watch you glow.”
I squeeze her hand in return, letting the comfortable silence of two best friends settle in the space between us.
I’m more than certain she sees how nervous I am about my impending interview this week.
And I let her.
Little does she know I’m nursing a broken heart and am too ashamed to admit it to her. Even worse, I’m too much of a coward to think I deserve what it is I really want.
Reciprocation of that last task on the to-do list.
That, and one Slade Henderson.
Slade
“Desk duty looks good on you, Henderson.”
I look over the piles of binders stacked on the desk in front of me and glare at Prisha. We’re in the bowels of the hospital, a windowless room with white walls and not much else other than paperwork, an ancient laptop, and more paperwork.
“I’m starting to regret offering to help Dr. Schultz log all of these test results from his study, but I was going out of my mind waiting.” I lean back in my chair and scrub a hand over my bleary eyes.
“It has to be a good sign that he’s letting you back in the hospital, right?” She leans a hip on the desk opposite of mine and stifles a yawn. “I mean, if he was going to kick you out of the program, one could assume he wouldn’t let you touch all of his beloved data.”
“That was my thought when he called, but now?” I point to the endless stacks of statistics to be logged. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
Prisha cocks her head to the side and eyes me for a beat. “You haven’t mentioned her, you know. You’ve been here five days, and we text all the time, but you haven’t brought her up other than to redirect the conversation.”
“That’s bullshit,” I argue but know she’s right.
“You’ve moved on just like that?”
I rub my bleary eyes before looking over to Prisha.
“Moved on?” I ask.
“Yeah. You played mountain man with Blakely and then you washed your hands of her? Such a classic Henderson move. Should I assume you’re actively looking for a new project to fix?”
I chuckle as much of a laugh as I can muster. “I didn’t wash my hands of her, Prish. I’m just elbow deep in this shit and trying to get my life back.”
“And?”
“And being on the outside, watching you guys run from one place to another, exhausted, scarfing down a meal when you can, and sneaking moments to sleep—”
“You miss every second of it.”
“Hell yes, I do. Desperately. But stepping back and seeing the dedication and sacrifice of it all right in front of me was a blatant reminder of why nothing ever stuck for me before with a woman. I don’t have the time or the bandwidth to manage that and do this.”
“Plenty of us do.”
“Good for you.”
“Lots of excuses and not much action. If that’s the case, she’s probably good to be rid of you.” She sighs before rolling her shoulders and then stretching her arms up.
“Very funny,” I murmur and toss my pen onto the desk.
“I’m serious. I liked her . . . and I think part of your misery is because you like her, too, but you aren’t quite sure what to do about it.”
“Thanks for the psych eval, but I’m good.”
But I’m not. I’m far from it. I fucking miss her. Her smile. The scent of her skin. The sound of her laugh. The sparkle in her eyes.
Fucking sap.
“I think part of Slade’s problem is he’s going through sex withdrawals,” John says as he walks in. “What is this? Party in the basement?”
“Something like that,” I mutter and fist bump John.
“You’re crazy, Prish, if you think Blakely was anything more than a little side fun for Slade. We all know how he plays.”
“Fuck off,” I joke as he winks at me.
“You ready for rounds?” John asks Prisha, who nods. “Later, lover boy,” he throws over his shoulder as they head down the hall. I’d give anything to be going with them.
My groan fills the room as I slump in my chair.
Is John right? Am I not at the point yet in my life where I can involve someone in my day to day? Where I can ask her to deal with the burden of my residency?
I close my eyes and wonder how I can justify asking Blakely to do this with me. She just ended a relationship
