Before he could say anything else, his phone chimed with an incoming video call. He pulled it out of his pocket, and I watched his eyes flicker with both concern and relief before answering. “Hey there.”
“Hey,” I heard Blake say.
“What are you up to?”
“Having lunch. I saw you called last night…”
“Yeah. Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine.”
Just then, Gabe’s secretary poked her head into the conference room to let him know he had a call. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Talk to Wes for a minute.”
He handed me the phone before he stepped out, and I looked at the screen. “Hey, big guy.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hey. What are you up to?”
“Going through some case briefs.” I saw his stethoscope hanging around his neck. “You working?”
“Yeah. On break at the moment.” I watched his eyes shift from the camera, moving to dart around his surroundings before looking back at me.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m alright,” he nodded.
I wasn’t sure I believed that as much as he may have wanted me to. His voice was quieter than usual as he spoke, and he looked exhausted. “They must be running you ragged in the ER. You look tired as hell.”
His eyes darted around again before he scrubbed a hand down his face. “No. I just slept like shit last night.”
I stared at his face through the screen, studying him for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah.”
“How are youreallydoing?”
He let out a breath. “Just…taking it day by day, I guess,” he said quieter than before.
“Are you talking to someone?” His only response was asubtle nod. “That’s good. And you know you can call me any time, right? Luke too. And obviously Gabe.”
“Yeah, I know…” His eyes shifted once more. “Hey, I gotta get back. Tell Gabe I’ll call him later.”
“Alright, big guy. Take care.”
“You too.”
The screen went blank, and I let out a breath. Blake had been back in the States for a few months, but I was as worried about him now as I was when he was overseas.
The sound of silverware scraping against the china filled the air as I sat at the dinner table with my mom and Haley on Sunday evening.
I was trying to keep my mouth shut while Haley talked about Cal, the new guy she’d been seeing for the past couple of months. From what I was told by people around town who knew him, he had a reputation for being a player, but Haley was forever in her “I can fix him” era and was back on her bullshit.
I was trying to take the suggestion acertain someonegave me about backing off and not offering unsolicited advice.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you,” Haley said to my mom. “I found someone to do the redesign of the beach house.”
My mom inherited an oceanfront beach house in Isle of Palms from a late great-aunt. She debated selling it because she had no use for it but then decided to rent it out for summer vacationers. It needed some revamping, however.
My mom smiled. “Yeah?”
