"Right," I agree. "I'll type up the report, okay?" I veer off without waiting for him to respond.
In my office, I spend a few minutes with my head in my hands, going over everything from the surgery. Reliving it helps me with the details so that I can write an accurate report. Even if it hurts to remember her smallness, I have to do my job.
After I finish typing my report, at nearly the same time my stomach grumbles. Unfortunately, I don't have time to eat. I have three more patients to see this afternoon. So, I pull open the top drawer of my desk, push aside some papers, and find the protein bar I threw in here last week. It's the best I can do for the next few hours.
I'm on my way out of my office when my phone buzzes. I’m in a rush but I stop short when I see it's a text from Autumn.
My mom would like to know if you're coming over for dinner tonight? It's a Monday, so...?
I sigh. Is it only Faith who wants to know? Or Autumn too? Is there any reason for me to hope? Or is it the most dangerous thing I could do?
I want to type her back:What the fuck happened last night?but I don’t. I know she’s struggling inside and I don’t want to push her. I got a glimpse of what we could be like again last night and I don’t want to fuck it up.
I type out my response.Tell your mom I wouldn't miss it for the world.
It's true. Autumn or no Autumn, Faith is important to me.
* * *
"You're late."
Autumn leans against the doorframe, arms crossed like a guard denying me entry. All I can think about is my fingers inside of her as we were pressed against my dad’s house in the dark of night … the way she moaned in my ear and tilted into my hand, begging for more.
I clear my throat. "My last patient needed some extra time." I rub my temple with two fingers. I should ask her where the hell she went last night after she disappeared on me, but I don't have it in me to start that discussion right now. I'm exhausted, and I'm starving.
Autumn must sense that I'm not a worthy opponent right now. She steps aside and I walk in. If I were more awake, more spry, I'd brush against her as I walk past, but I'm not, and I don't so much as graze an inch of her.
“Hey, I was fucking with you. You okay?”
I flinch, I don’t know why, but I do, and she retracts her arm.
“I had a rough day with a pediatric patient.” I flick my gaze up to hers and her face falls.
“Oh.” I can see the shadows cross over face, haunting her, and I regret telling her about my patient.
I’m so pissed she hasn’t said anything about running off last night that I just keep walking until I reach the kitchen.
Faith is in there preparing a salad. I peer over her shoulder to see what we are eating. Kale, with sliced apples, almonds, and grapefruit.
"Very healthy," I comment.
Faith startles. "Geez, I didn't know you were there, Owen. I'm sorry. I was daydreaming."
I settle back against the edge of the counter. "I hope it was a good dream."
She smiles. "Pretty good."
Also known as,I'm not telling you about it.
“How are you feeling after chemo?” I ask.
She nods. “About as good as can be expected.”
That meant some nausea and fatigue no doubt.
Autumn walks in, glancing at me hesitantly before going to the fridge and opening it. She's wearing black leggings, a loose top, and her hair is wound into a messy bun on the top of her head. She's stunning and she's not even trying. Typical Autumn.
"The grill should be ready by now," Autumn says, pulling away from the fridge with a tray. On top are three large salmon filets. She doesn't ask me to come outside with her, but the meaningful look she gives me conveys her message.
