“Will do.”
When I hang up the phone, I let my arm drop to the side of the bed, and I can’t stop myself from seeing Jules there, on her side, the sheet pulled down just over her hip like it was when I had her in here the other night.
I still can’t parse the truth with my current reality. That Jules was the woman at that party, the one I haven’t been able to get out of my head. Even with that mask, how could I not put it together? Not connect the dots that it was me and her out on that balcony together?
And I had her. Somehow, after all this time and space, I found her miles away and years later. And now I’ve lost her again.
It reminds me of surgery, the way everything can go from fine to drastic in a matter of hours. First you find the bleed, think you can contain it. Then, the chest cavity is filling with blood, and you can’t see what you’re doing, can’t find where the blood is coming from. The patient starts to crash, the beeping of the monitors reminding you exactly what’s at stake.
In those moments, I’ve always been able to perform. To keep my head, clear the blood, find the bleed, and finish up the surgery, delivering the patient back to their family with their stint or anomaly repaired.
But yesterday, when Alena needed me, and I felt my relationship with Jules teetering on the edge, I’d capsized. Gone belly up, fumbled every last toss sent my way.
My phone starts to buzz, and I turn, glancing at the screen.
Orieflashes, his face filling the rectangle. He’s either going to ask what the hell is wrong with me, or check to make sure I’m not too sick to hit the hockey game with him. I silence the call and drop my phone again, debating on whether I should spend the next four hours in bed when the phone buzzes again.
Cursing under my breath, I bring it to my face, thinking I’ll text the fucker and tell him to leave me alone, but it’s not Orie.
“Hello?”
“Dr. Burch,” Mr. Grande says, and I can tell from the cool cut to his voice that this is not going to be a fun call.
“What can I do for you?” I ask, knowing I sound tired, and like shit, and not caring. The truth is that I’ve spent the past forty-eight hours analyzing this situation, and a call from Mr. Grande was already something I’d considered.
Honestly, I’m surprised it took as long as it did. I’d thought Evony would work faster than that, get the word around instantly.
“Well, unfortunately I’ve received some information from a friend on the board of the hospital,” he says with a sigh, and I can practically picture him pushing his glasses down, pinching his nose. “Russell, I hate to say it, but there’s some talk that your engagement to Ms. Harper is just a ruse to collect the inheritance from your father’s estate.”
When I say nothing, Mr. Grande goes on.
“I hope you know that as his attorney, it’s my responsibility to ensure money leaves the trustonlyunder the exact parameters the late Dr. Burch established.” His voice is rigid, lawyerly. Nothing like the warm, affectionate tone he’d used back when it was me, Jules, and Gus in his office. “And if there are any accusations, no matter how slight, that fraud might be occurring, I’m under an obligation to investigate that.”
“Do what you have to do, Grande,” I rumble, my voice thick with exhaustion. It’s not like I’m going to come out and admit that Jules and I have been engaged in a specific arrangement, but it won’t take muchinvestigatingto figure it out, either. In fact, if he hires a PI worth their salt, they’ll uncover evidence through messages and emails pretty quick.
In the park isn’t the first time we’ve openly discussed the details of our agreement. It was stupid.
Maybe this entire situation is just proof that I’m not as smart as I think I am. That I can hardly control the future.
Mr. Grande sighs on the other end of the line, “I really hope this turns out to be a mean-spirited accusation, Russell. Your father was always honest. It goes without saying to say he would be very disappointed in any sort of lying for personal gain.”
I have to hold in a laugh, keep myself from saying,It wouldn’t be the first time my father was disappointed in me, Grande.
“Of course it does,” I say, instead.
“As of right now, I’m pausing the decision on the trust. If the firm finds proof that you entered into that relationship fraudulently, and never intended a full marriage with Ms. Harper, we may have grounds for a lawsuit, Russell.”
“Well, let’s both hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Mr. Grande gets off the phone, and I’m once again left in my quiet room, phone buzzing periodically.
Many of the notifications are from the calendar, Allen having scheduling move my surgeries around, but just as many are from Alena. Apologizing for the other day, for taking me away from Jules and causing whatever happened.
I should have just been upfront with Jules, told her that it was my sister who needed me.
But that’s not even the biggest issue. The biggest issue is Jules thinking Gus is mine.
It’s not even a possibility I should entertain. So, instead of thinking about it, considering the chance that I could do a DNA test and seepositivethere, waiting for me, I push all thoughts from my mind and head down to the exercise room, lifting weights and running on the treadmill until I’m too tired to do anything but fall right back in bed.
