Love You More(80)

I set it down so gently it makes no sound. The diamond catches the light—one last glimmer of what might have been.

As I meet his gaze, I’m reminded that no matter how much you love someone, they may not be yours to keep.

It’s a pattern I recognize all too well.

“Do you want me to go?” My voice breaks.

“No. But maybe you should,” he says, tears filling his eyes.

I’ve never seen Dean cry before.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry I let you down.”

“You didn’t let me down. As disappointed as I am, I’m also proud of you. You’re a good person—an exceptional person.”

“So are you,” I say.

“Not as good as you,” he whispers, looking down. “I’m sorry I don’t have the capacity for all of this.”

“We both did our best,” I say.

He stands, and I follow him to the foyer.

When we get to the door, he pulls me into his arms. We both dissolve into quiet sobs. I press my face to his T-shirt and breathe in detergent, antiseptic, and the faint heat of the ER that never seems to leave his skin.

We pull back at the same time. He blinks, clears his throat, then presses the elevator button.

“Can I call you an Uber?” he asks.

“No, thanks. I’d rather walk.”

He nods as the doors slide open.

I step inside, then turn to face him, holding his gaze until they close.



* * *



— When I get to the lobby, Oscar laughs. “That was fast!”

I smile through tears.

He looks at me, alarmed. “Whoa. You okay, Doc?”

“I will be,” I say.



* * *



— Outside, the evening is warm and still. I tell myself not to look back—but just before I reach the corner, I turn and catch a glimpse of Dean’s window, glowing with light.

I press my hand against the strap of my bag, feeling the empty space where my ring used to be. Then I keep walking.





Chapter 48


I wake up the next morning feeling like I’m moving through water. I text Lesli and Greer, asking if they can meet for one of our Saturday walks in Central Park. They both say yes. I force myself out of bed, shower, and leave my apartment on autopilot.

I’m the first to arrive at our usual meeting spot—the pond on the southern edge of the park, where the city nearly disappears behind willow trees. It’s a clear June morning, and the paths are already swarming with runners and walkers, strollers and cyclists. I sit on a bench and watch a man with a giant bubble wand surrounded by eager children.

The park has always felt like a sanctuary to me, from that first hot dog I shared with Mick to the bleary walks I took during med school and residency. Today it feels like the world is carrying on without me—bright, ordinary, relentless. I look down at my left hand, my fingers curling into my palm.

A few minutes later, I see Lesli and Greer walking toward me. I stand and manage a smile.

“What happened?” Greer asks. “Did you get custody?”

“Yeah. For six months.”

“Then why do you look so tragic?”

Her words undo me. I burst into tears.

I sink onto the bench, and they sit on either side of me, arms around me. Lesli presses her cheek to my hair. Greer’s hand closes over mine.

It takes me a while to find my voice. “Dean called off our engagement.”

Greer gasps. “What?! No! Why?”

“Because I’m doing this—when Mick could be Phoebe’s father. It was a bridge too far.”

“Wow,” Greer says. “This cannot be happening.”

“It’s happening. I gave the ring back. I haven’t heard from him since last night. He’s not changing his mind.”


Keep a few stories in reserve.

Add something new to your reading list from Lokepub.



“Can you change yours?” Greer asks.

“No. I have to be there for Phoebe. Right now.”

Lesli gives me a big hug, as it occurs to me that she’s lived through both of my major breakups.

We sit in silence. Then we walk in it. We pause when we reach the stone bridge. The pond ripples with the wake of a toy sailboat, its white triangle gliding toward the far bank. I watch it drift until my eyes sting.

“I’m sorry for leaving you guys in the lurch,” I finally say, realizing that neither of them has mentioned our clinic.

“No worries,” Greer says with a laugh. “Lesli will be thrilled to double her workload.”

Lesli smiles and rolls her eyes.

“There’s a lot I can do remotely. And I can come in for procedures. Maybe once a month. Mick can cover for me with Phoebe,” I say, hearing how it sounds through Dean’s ears.

“Do you think you’ll be back after six months?” Greer asks.

“I’m not sure. Depends on what the judge says in the follow-up hearing.” I let out a long sigh. “I know this isn’t fair to you. I understand if you want to buy me out or get a new partner—”

“Nonsense,” Greer says.

Lesli nods. “You shouldn’t be worrying about any of that now. We’ll make it work.”