“I’ve been busy,” I say, but the words feel less certain than they usually do.
“You’re always busy. That’s not the same thing as not having time for someone special.”
For a split second, I imagine what that would look like. Someone who understands the demands of my job. Someone who doesn’t see my dedication as a flaw but as part of who I am. Someone who…
I shake my head, pushing the thought away. “Amy, look at my life. I’m exactly where I want to be. I don’t need anything else.”
“But wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to celebrate with? Someone to come home to?”
There’s something in her voice that makes me look at her more carefully. She’s not just asking about my love life. She’s asking because she knows what it’s like to have someone and then lose them. She’s asking because she understands both sides in a way I never will.
My confidence wavers for just a moment. “I celebrate withyou. With Mom and Dad. With colleagues.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
She’s right, but I can’t admit that. Because if I admit that, then I have to admit that maybe there’s something missing from my perfect life. And there isn’t. There can’t be.
“Amy, every woman I’ve dated has wanted more than I can give. More time, more attention, more emotional availability. I’m not built for relationships.”
“You’re not built for thewrongrelationships,” she corrects. “There’s a difference.”
Henry starts fussing again, and Amy automatically reaches for him. She adjusts his position, checks his diaper, and makes soft shushing sounds until he settles. The ease with which she does it all makes something twist in my chest. Not envy, exactly. More like recognition of something I can’t quite name.
“What if you met someone who had her own passion?” Amy continues while rocking Henry. “Someone who understood dedication because she had her own goals?”
The image forms unbidden. Someone driven like me. Someone who gets that work isn’t just a job but a calling. Someone who wouldn’t resent the hospital for taking up so much of my time because she’d have her own important things to focus on.
The thought is so appealing it scares me.
“I’m happy,” I say quickly, more to convince myself than her. “Really happy. My life is exactly what I’ve worked to build.”
She looks like she wants to argue, but Henry chooses that moment to spit up on her shirt. She laughs, reaching for napkins, and the moment passes.
“I should get going,” I say, checking my watch. “Rounds start in thirty minutes.”
“Think about the barbecue. And Jordan?” She looks up from wiping Henry’s chin. “Think about being open to possibilities. You deserve to have it all.”
“Thanks, Sis.” Putting some cash on the table to cover the bill, I kiss the side of her head and leave the diner.
Except our conversation follows me.
You deserve to have it all.Even once I’m back in my car, her words still stick with me. Through the diner window, I can see Amy gathering her things, Henry in her arms.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe Icouldhave more. Maybe there’s someone out there who would fit into my life instead of demanding I change it.
But then I think about the department head position, the research trials starting next month, and the patients counting on me. I think about the perfect order of my days, the satisfaction of problems solved and lives saved. Why risk messing with something that works?
My phone buzzes with a text from Dr. Monroe. Mrs. Khan’s scans are ready for review. I smile, sliding the phone back into my pocket. This is what I know. This is what I’m good at. This is enough.
As I drive toward the hospital, Amy’s words echo in my mind one more time.
Maybe I do deserve to have it all. But what I have right now feels pretty close to everything already.
CHAPTER 2
ALEXA
Opening up my email for the third time in the last hour, I stare at the empty inbox and sigh. Two weeks of looking for a job and nothing.
