“For God’s sake,” Gwen says. “If you miss him that much, just go be with him.”
The clink of cutlery on plates echoes around us, and conversations carry on, but our table quiets as everyone looks at me.
“He hurt me so much,” I say softly, “when we were teenagers. I don’t know if I can get over it. It’s been such a struggle. Like, what if that part of him is still in there somewhere? If he could do that before, what’s stopping him from becoming that again?”
Joan runs her fingers through her blonde hair. She tilts her head. “That’s a valid concern. But I don’t think you would havefallen for him if he was a bad person. You don’t tolerate any bullshit.”
“What do you mean, I fell for him?”
“Kendall.” Gwen leans forward and almost knocks over her orange juice. Maria steadies her glass for her. “You love this man.”
Oh, God. I cover my face with my hands. Slivers of sunlight from the window shine through my fingers. Another tear slips out.
She’s right. Of course she is. I haven’t allowed myself the room to accept it, but I can’t deny it, and it’s obvious to everyone but me. I want him. I care about him.
I always go after what I want. Take no prisoners and all that. And now I’m being a coward, like Grant said. I just can’t let go of my hang ups. I hold them near me like little poisonous jewels.
“You should grab happiness when you can,” Maria says. “If he really has changed, I mean. If you still want to hate him, I support that too. But if he’s good to you, and you care about him, I think it’s okay to let it happen.”
“And if it’s a big mistake?” I lower my hands.
“Then we’ll go back to hating him with you.” Gwen shrugs. “I have absolutely no qualms about that.”
I laugh again. I still don’t know what I’m going to do, but my eyes feel drier now. “You ladies.” I shake my head. “You’re the fucking best.”
24
GRANT
I blink against the fluorescent lights of the OR, feeling like I’ve got grains of sand underneath my eyelids.
I’m doing my spine rotation now. I’ve moved on with my third year of residency like my entire world hasn’t been leeched of color. I’m not being dramatic, either. Or maybe I am, but I don’t care.
I must have loved her. Current tense: love her. Food tastes bland now. My sleep quality is even worse than usual. My heart skips when my phone chimes, but it’s never her. I’ve thought of calling her, texting her, but she made herself clear, and I should respect that. It’s tempting, though. I’ve become someone I don’t recognize, a foolish man who’ll take any scrap he can get.
It will pass. I’ve never felt quite like this, but I’m certain I’ll improve. In the meantime, I need to focus on getting through my residency.
“Ready, Dr. Wyndham?” The scrub tech—Finn? Flynn? Shit, I don’t remember now—looks at me.
I nod. The attending is a real hard-ass, and he aims his stern countenance my way before we start the surgery. Lucky for me,I can compartmentalize, so once the procedure begins I’m dialed in. I won’t allow this heartache to make me lose focus.
I make it through the day. Adam is at the apartment later that night when I stumble in. He’s asleep at the kitchen counter next to a bowl of chicken noodle soup, his head resting on his forearm.
I nudge him awake. He startles, nearly breaking my nose as he whips his head up. Tiny red capillaries web out around his irises, and dark circles stand out like smudges under his eyes.
“You need me to help you to bed?”
He drags a sleeve across his face. “God. I don’t even know.” He comes to a shaky stand. “I guess I would have woken up eventually. But thanks.” He looks at me. “You look even worse than I feel.”
“Yeah. I’m not doing great.”
“You shouldn’t just wallow,” he says blearily as he walks to the bathroom.
“Pardon?”
He turns to me. “It’s about Kendall, right? If you like her that much, you should tell her.”
“I did. It’s not going to work.”
