Page 83 of Dr. Sexypants

Finally, I pushed it, then put my phone back in my pocket and forced a smile when I walked into the next exam room.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Kristy

I sat on Lainey’s couch, playing peekaboo with Conor as he sat on my lap. If playing with a toddler wouldn’t make me feel better, nothing would.

His belly laughs every time I pulled my hand away from my eyes was helping.

Lainey watched from the recliner, and I asked, “Does he ever get sick of this?”

“Never. But it’s important for his development, so keep doing it.”

After a few more minutes of playing, Lainey broached the reason I’d gone to her house when we left the hospital instead of going home and stewing.

Or worse, stalking his house again.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Nope,” I replied as I covered my face with my hands for what felt like the hundredth time.

My response didn’t deter my best friend.

“I can’t believe he wrote that.”

“Me neither. But if he really thinks I’d do that to him, then I guess he’s right. There is nothing left to say.”

I switched to playing patty-cake. Conor was unimpressed until we got to the part about rolling it and when we threw it in the oven, he let out a squeal.

Lainey tucked her legs under her and adjusted in her chair. “I’m so mad at him. He didn’t even bother trying to find out the truth. He just immediately assumed the worst about you.”

I shrugged. “I probably would have done the same.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. You would have stepped back and tried to figure out what happened. Which is what he should have done.”

“You’re right…”

My BFF was fired up on my behalf. “I hope he feels like an utter ass when he finally figures out the truth, and I hope he comes crawling to your door with an apology. And when he does,” she finished her thought through gritted teeth, “you better slam it in his face!”

She made a motion like she was doing just that, and I couldn’t help but laugh at how animated she was.

Conor, on the other hand, saw how upset his mama had become and started to cry.

Lainey got to her feet and grumbled, “Just one more reason I want to punch him in the throat. He made my son cry!”

As I handed her the baby, I teased, “No, I think you did that.”

“Well, it’s Justin’s fault that I did.”

“Fair enough.”

It was weird. I was hoping that my grief would be replaced by righteous anger. Instead, it just felt like I had one more reason to be sad.

****

Justin

I had to sign discharge papers, then I was heading home.