“Wyatt, what’s going on?” I soften my tone.
“Might as well not repeat it. Everything will be covered when we bring everyone’s tea.”
“Are you okay?” I hurry to ask, then turn to grab the mugs.
“I don’t know. I will be. I need a change of scenery, that’s all. Dad’s making a big fuss about it. It isn’t that serious.” His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. His eyes begin to water, and I throw my arms around him to give him a tight hug.
I didn’t think he would accept the gesture, possibly pat my back to move on with the day. Instead, his arms circle around me, embracing me hard. His hands clutch my back, fisting my shirt, and he buries his face into my shoulder. He has to bend down to do that, even though I’m on my tiptoes.
“It’s going to be okay, Wyatt,” I whisper, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but one day it will be. One day, you’ll learn how to live with the pain, and it won’t hurt so badly.”
He leans away, breaking the hug just as the kettle whistles.
“Come on, let’s tackle this conversation with tea.”
“Winston is not going to be happy,” he says.
“Oh?” I add a small amount of honey to each mug, drop in the tea bags, then pour the hot water. I place a spoon into each, give it a stir, and hand Wyatt two mugs as I grab the last two. “Why won’t he be happy?”
“It changes things. My brother doesn’t like change. Well, not that he doesn’t like change. You know him. He likes what he likes. Change takes him a bit of time. If that makes sense.”
I stop before we reach the end of the hallway. “Hey,” I say in a low whisper.
He turns to look at me, sadness still bowing his brows.
“Do you really think he’s going to care about change when it comes to you? He loves you fiercely, Wyatt. He cares more about you than whatever change is coming.”
The sorrow in his eyes lifts, bringing a small pinch of happiness to his lips.
“Come on.” I nudge him gently with my elbow, careful not to hit him too hard so the hot tea doesn’t spill over my fingers. “Let’s go. The quicker we tackle this, the quicker your life can move forward, yeah?”
“I don’t know how I’ll move forward,” he admits with a tight, grim line of his mouth.
“But you will.” I begin to walk, his shoes still squelching behind me as we stride into Winston’s office.
I set the mugs down on the desk, Wyatt doing the same, and we all grab the one closest to us. Shutting the door, I hit the button that frosts the glass to give us privacy, and I take a seat. Wyatt chooses to sit on the couch alone, while his father sits to the right of me in the oversized leather chair that matches my own.
Nothing is said for the first minute, increasing the tension by the ton. I sip my tea, careful not to burn my tongue, hoping someone will put this conversation out of its misery.
“Who died?” Winston finally asks, setting his mug down. “Because someone did. I know that much, with how everyone is acting. Can we get on with it, please?” Winston folds his hands across his stomach, his glare cutting from Wyatt to his father.
I sit like a good assistant, sipping my tea without saying a word.
“Wyatt fell in love with a nurse,” his father begins.
Winston smiles. “Wy, that’s great. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
A tear drops down Wyatt’s face, but he brushes it away. “No one knew. Not until…not until after.”
“Oookay,” Winston says with narrow eyes. “Can someone stop the fucking bullshit and tell me what’s going on before I become impatient?”
“I fell in love with a nurse. Her family is suing, saying there was a conflict of interest because I operated on her and she died on the table. I would never have let my feelings impair my ability to perform surgery. She lost so much blood, Winston.” Wyatt places his mug on the ground and digs the heels of his palms into his hands. His voice chokes with emotion. “There was too much trauma. She got hit by a car, and I rushed to the hospital as quick as I could—but since I’m affiliated with the private practice, they’re coming after the practice.”
“Theywerecoming after the practice. I took care of it,” Winston’s father says. “The family agreed to a settlement and also agreed they wouldn’t go to the press.”
“I didn’t kill her,” Wyatt says again. He looks up at us through teary wet lashes. “I loved her. If anyone wanted to save her more than anyone else, it was me. But there was so much trauma.” Hecovers his mouth with his hand and chokes out a sob. “There was nothing I could do. I knew in my heart when I got her on the table that she wasn’t going to make it.”
Winston stands and rushes to his brother, hauling him into a hard hug. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt. I’m so sorry you lost someone you loved. I’m so sorry.” Winston palms the back of Wyatt’s head and Wyatt clutches onto him like a lifeline, breaking down in his agony again.
