Now all I want is to get to our hotel and lie down.
“You okay?” Mark asks.
I shrug. “It’s been a day.”
“I bet. Bit crazy to run into your ex.” He snorts. “Life really is kicking me in the nuts.”
I cross my arms and slouch into the chair.
“We’ll be at the hotel soon.”
“Are you going to tell me what the doctor said to you?”
He glances at me. “I asked about treatment options. What was available if anything.”
I sit up. “And?”
“And I didn’t want to upset you if the answer was no. But the answer was no. It’s too far gone.” He stops at a red light and looks at me. “I was going to wait until we were at the hotel to tell you because I know everything hurts right now.”
I swallow down tears and nod.
“So let’s get to the hotel and raid the minibar and order room service. I think we’re owed that much.”
21
PATRICK
Cassie Warren.
I thought of her over the years—telling myself I’d moved on. With no idea what I’d done to push her away, it was hard to get over that summer.
There have been other women in the past thirteen years, but no serious relationships. I couldn’t do it—no one compared to Cassie.
Sad, but true.
Not that I had a lot of time for relationships anyway. I’d spent years studying and then throwing myself into my career. This year has been the big one—the one where I’ve gone into private practice, but I still operate at the hospital. It’s busy, but not as hectic as the past few years have been.
It’s a fulfilling career that I’ve worked hard for.
Part of the reason I pushed so hard—especially in the early days—was to forget about Cassie. My education suffered at first as a direct result of the aftermath of losingher. But I soon found my way by burying myself in the course work and doing better than I imagined.
I’m young to be doing what I’m doing, but after my mentor, Ethan, took me under his wing, I strode forward in leaps and bounds.
Tonight I get home and settle in for the night with pizza and a beer. Anything to try and distract me from having seen Cassie again.
It doesn’t work.
It’s a little after ten in the evening when my phone rings. While I’m available after hours for my patients, I don’t often get calls with the nature of my work.
I don’t recognise the number, but it could be someone from the hospital, so I answer. “Patrick Cross.”
“Patrick. It’s Mark Burrows. I was wondering if we could catch up and talk.”
“Of course. When?—”
“We’re only here for the night. Staying in a hotel. Cassie’s already asleep, so I thought I might come to yours or you could come to me.”
I’m not sure what to say at first as he comes at me fast. “I’ll come to you. Tell me where you’re staying.”
