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“Yes. I’ve tried to get over her, but I can’t. I thought maybe going out with you might help. I like you, but…” I trailed off. “I’m not ready. I’m not sure I ever will be. I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“Nah, don’t be. You’re too good for me.” She grimaced. “You like feelings.”

I laughed. “You don’t?”

“I’m not good with them. Don’t get me wrong. You’re sexy and funny. Handsome as hell. But too good with emotions.” She winked. “I like to chase my men down and crack them open. You’re already out there. Not broody enough.”

“Try Dr. Mooreland. He’s broody enough for everyone.”

She laughed. “I might.” Then she winked. “Friends?”

“Absolutely.”

We shook on it, and she leaned her chin on her hand. “Tell me all about her. I can hate her with you.”

“I don’t hate her,” I replied. “I’m still in love with her.”

“Oh.”

“Which makes no sense since we’ve been apart longer than we were together.”

“There isn’t a time limit on love. Now, spill.”

We were still great friends, having kept in touch the entire time I was gone. She was right—we would have been terrible lovers. But I enjoyed hearing about her escapades in her texts. Her brief love affairs. She always made me laugh. Dr. Mooreland, as brilliant a doctor as he was, proved to be too broody even for her. “His persona at the hospital is his cheerful side. That’s broodier than even I can handle,” she confided, her observation amusing me to no end.

I was looking forward to seeing her again.

Two weeks later, I groaned in weariness as I waited for the elevator to arrive. I had gone upstairs to check on a patient who had been admitted. She was elderly, frightened, and alone, and I wanted to make sure she was okay.

It had been a grueling shift, and I was tired. I had been tired since returning to the ER. A constant, nagging weariness that I couldn’t seem to shake. A headache that returned over and over. I stepped onto the elevator, the car filling up with the doors opening. I backed into the corner, letting my head fall, knowing this was going to take a while. We reached the main floor, and I waited as the crowd dispersed before stepping off. An odd sound met my ears, and I glanced to my right, meeting the shocked, lovely blue gaze of someone I hadn’t expected ever to see again—or at least, not here. Not now.

Maddy.

For a moment, time stood still. She smiled at me. Everything around us disappeared. There was no busy hospital. No people rushing around. No sounds or voices talking.

Only her. Only me.

Then someone bumped into me and muttered an oath under their breath, breaking the moment. I moved forward. “Maddy?”

“Matthew.”

I stepped as close as I dared. “What-what are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

“I work here. You know that.”

“I had heard you left.”

“It was a long absence, but I came back.” I paused, wanting desperately to touch her but knowing I couldn’t. “Why are you here?” A thought hit me, and I grabbed her hand. “Are you okay? Are you sick? Sue?”

She frowned and looked down at our joined hands but didn’t pull hers away.

“I work here too.”

“What? Since when? Where?”

“The surgical ward. I started last month.”