—J
She looked up and searched the room for me and she beamed at me when she saw me, and my heart was full.
I would give her this every day. I’d spend the rest of my life looking for ways to make her smile at me like that. I lived for it.
When she came over, everyone was watching us, as usual. I knew she’d put on a show. We couldn’t touch too much at work. PDA wasn’t permitted. So what we did here was act like we wanted to touch, but the rules wouldn’t allow it. She’d stand extra close to me, looking up at me like if we just weren’t at work, she’d kiss me. I loved that the best. When she did that, it felt like she loved me back. I let myself pretend.
She stopped an inch shy from being able to hug me. “Zander,” she said, nodding at him. Then she crossed her arms and turned to me. “Thank you for the flowers, Dr. Maddox.”
“So you forgive me, then?” I grinned.
She shrugged playfully and looked away from me.
“How about if I buy you dinner Saturday?” I asked.
Her eyes slid back to mine. “I want Chinese food.”
“Okay.”
“I get to place the order and you have to go get it.”
“Sounds fair.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I’m going to order half the menu.”
“Of course.”
We were leaning into each other, smiling.
“Dios mío, get a room,” Hector said, walking up.
We laughed a little and moved apart, but we didn’t break eye contact. We were so good at this.
It was hard to believe one of us was in love and the other one was just good at pretending.
“Hey, you got a patient asking for you in room three,” Hector said to Briana.
Briana gave me one last flirty look. “Duty calls,” she said, jogging backward. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
I watched her, grinning like an idiot, until she disappeared beyond the sliding glass doors of room three.
“And you’re sure it’s fake…” Zander said.
My smile fell.
“I’m sure.” For her, anyway.
We were just friends. This would all end in a few weeks after the wedding. And my heart broke every single day thinking about it.
The wedding was in four weeks. Benny’s kidney transplant was in five. I figured we’d probably keep up appearances for a few weeks after that. Then that would be it.
That would be all.
I went back to work.
Hector came back over ten minutes later while I was reading a chart. “Hey, some pendejo’s making a move on your girl.”
I looked up. “What?”
“Yeah, he’s all over there like, ‘Give me your number, let’s catch up.’”
I stared at him. “Did she give him her number?”
“Yeah. Guess she knows him or something? I’m tellin’ you, you better get over there. That guy’s all over her and she’s into it. And he’s hot too. I mean, not as hot as you, but, like, pretty damn close.”
For a long moment, I looked at the door of the room she was in. Then I set down the chart and forced myself not to run.
Chapter 35
Briana
Jacob sent me flowers.
I know it was just for Instagram, but still. Even though he didn’t send them for the reason I wished he sent them, he’d probably spent all day picking them out. That’s how he was. I could picture him worrying about it, checking reviews for the florist before committing to using them. Maybe even calling the flower shop to request a different-color rose or vase from the picture on the website.
Stuff like this made me wish harder than usual that things were real. Maybe if Jacob were slightly less thoughtful, or sweet in the evenings, or kind to his patients, I wouldn’t be so far gone.
Who was I kidding? Even if he was half the man he was, I’d be gone.
He did this thing in the morning where he’d lean in the doorway of the hallway, holding a cup of coffee and talking to me while I sat on my air mattress. His hair would be messy and he’d be in his rumpled pajamas and a T-shirt that probably smelled like him. And he just looked so…lovable. It was one of the times that made it the hardest to not be able to hug him unless someone else was around to see it. I bet he’d be warm and sleepy. I bet his lips would be soft and he’d taste like coffee and I could run my fingers through his hair.
But instead I’d just sit on my stupid inflatable bed, pretending I was happy to be out in the living room on the floor instead of cuddling in his room with him.
I loved living with him. I loved it.
I liked that he always had classical music playing on the lowest volume. He used scent beads in his laundry, and his towels always smelled like lavender. I liked that he burned candles when it rained. I liked it when he talked softly to his dog, who was every bit as in love with Jacob as I was. I liked hearing his footsteps coming down the hallway, or his bed creaking when he got up in the morning. I liked when he’d come quietly into the kitchen without waking me up to start the coffeemaker, or when I’d be almost asleep while watching TV with him on his bed and he’d drape a throw blanket over me and turn off the light.
Jacob was thoughtful and gentle. He was patient and kind. And his home was like being invited into a beautiful bird’s nest, where I felt insulated and safe. But I think I knew in the back of my mind that the thing I liked about Jacob’s house was Jacob. He was the key element in the self-sustaining ecosystem that was this life. Nothing worked without him.
I slid open the sliding glass door of room three to see the patient who’d asked for me.
“Levi!” I immediately broke into a grin.
The man sitting on the gurney with the bloody gauze wrapped around his hand smiled. “I thought this was your hospital.”
“What are you doing in Minnesota?” I said, closing the door.
He held up his hand. “Slicing my palm open with a paring knife.”
I sucked air through my teeth.
“I can finish this,” I told the resident prepping him. They let themselves out, and I slipped on gloves and took a look at his laceration.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, peeling off the gauze. “You really did a number on yourself.” I gave him a mock-serious look. “Are you gonna be brave while I stitch this? No crying.”
“Really? You want me to lean on toxic masculinity? You? If it hurts, I will cry.”
I shook my head with a laugh. God, Levi. Handsome and charming as always.
I closed his hand back around the gauze. “So how’s your wife?” I asked.
“Good. We’re divorced.”
I pulled back. “Really? You guys looked all happy on Instagram.”
“Yeah, well. It didn’t work out. We’re still friends, though. I saw you got divorced too. I was sorry to hear that.”
I shrugged, peeling off my gloves. “Shit happens. What are you gonna do.”
“So remember Cindy?” he asked.
I tossed my gloves in the trash. “Cindy Baker? Your neighbor? Totally. We used to play Guitar Hero with her in your living room after school.”
“She’s why I moved back.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“Yup. She friended me on Facebook last year in the middle of my divorce stuff. We moved in two weeks ago.”