Winston Sr. clears his throat and stares up into the fluorescent lights to try to dry his eyes. I let my tears fall freely—I have no need to hide my feelings about how painful and sad this is for Wyatt.
“Why weren’t other doctors at the hospital able to operate?” Winston asks.
“Too many traumas. I was available,” Wyatt answers.
Wyatt is a top-notch trauma surgeon. I truly believe that if he couldn’t save her, then no one could.
Winston Sr. says, “Wyatt will be a surgeon here. He’ll start in six weeks. We’re a level one trauma center and could use more surgeons like him. Winston, you will be moved to chief of medicine. Wyatt will be chief of surgery. All my sons should be working at this hospital anyway.”
“Wait.” Winston stands with an expression I know all too well. He squeezes his brother’s shoulder, then rounds his desk again to meet his father’s eyes. “He will not be chief of surgery. Absolutely not.”
He turns to speak to Wyatt. “Wy, you’re a fantastic surgeon but there are many doctors with more experience than even me whodeserve this position. Dad, if you make him the chief of surgery, you’ll lose the respect of many people in this hospital. He’ll be the trauma surgeon in the emergency department. We have a chief of medicine already. I have no want or need to have that job. I like where I’m at. You know I’m right, Dad. He can’t just come in here, being as young as he is, and take a job people work their entire lives for.”
“I agree,” Wyatt says. “I don’t want a leadership position. I just want to operate. That’s it.”
Winston Sr. lets out a huff. “Fine. Waylon will be coming to the hospital too. Pediatrics. The entire family will be here. Like they should be. End of story. Also, as of today, the Warrick Medical Group is now owned by my three sons. I’m officially retired.”
“What!” Winston bellows.
My eyes dart from man to man to man, trying to keep up with their conversation. I think they might have forgotten about me, actually. That’s fine. I have nothing to say. Yet. Hopefully, never.
“I’m old. I’m tired. My sons are young with energy. It’s not like you three don’t run it as it is. Now, it’s official.” He yawns, using his cane as leverage to push himself to stand. “We will be paying for all funeral expenses, Wyatt. Of course.” He shuffles closer to his youngest son, cupping his face. “My boy. I hate that you are in pain. Love does that. It hurts.”
“So much,” Wyatt whispers, another fresh tear falling down the curve of his cheek. He rubs his chest to relieve the ache. “I want it to stop.”
His father pats his cheek. “No, no, you don’t. Don’t ever hope the ache away, my boy. That’s how you know it was worth it. I’mproud of you. I’m sorry you lost who you loved.” He bends down and kisses the top of Wyatt’s head. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad. I’m…I’m sorry. That you had to pay for the mistake I made. I shouldn’t have operated on her.”
“You did what anyone would have done. I saw her medical report, Wyatt. The family could have tried to sue, but they wouldn’t have won. I only settled with them because of their grief. It gave them relief somehow. Don’t blame yourself. It’s a darkness that’s very hard to come back from.”
Wyatt doesn’t say anything. He slouches back onto the couch, sinking into the cushions. He probably wishes he could disappear.
I can’t imagine how he feels. What a horrible, traumatic way to lose someone.
Winston Sr. turns to me. “It was nice meeting you, Olivia. You must have a lot of patience to work for my son.” He slaps Winston on the shoulder. “He can be maddening, can’t he?”
“Just a little.” I pinch my thumb and index finger together, keeping the tiniest bit of space between them. I make sure to send Winston a wink, so he knows I’m kidding. He’s the best person to work for. I couldn’t be happier.
“I’ll walk you out, Dad. Wyatt, are you staying?” Winston asks, opening the door for his father.
“Yeah, if that’s okay?”
“Of course. Let me walk Dad out. I’ll be back.” Winston grabs his father’s arm, helping to steer him in the right direction.
I take my phone out, debating if I should message Mr. Wrong Number. But I already know I’m going to.
Even though Wyatt is in so much pain from missing the woman he loves, I know he will get another chance at romance. He’s too good of a man. His soul his just…good.
Dr. Carrington might not be the one who’s meant for me, but maybe my mystery man is. All I know is that I want the ache. I want the pain. I want it to be worth it.
And I can’t do that if I don’t try.
Me:Hey, how’s your day going? I miss talking to you.
It’s the truth. My days aren’t the same without talking to him. It’s time to try. If I want what I’ve always pictured for myself, the only way that can happen is if I put in the effort. Dating these guys off the apps isn’t working, but maybe texting the wrong number is what I needed all along.
All I know is that I want the ache.
