Night Shifts with the Miami Doc

by Ann Mcintosh

  “Regina.”

  Oh, the ice in Mateo’s voice, as he nodded his head in her direction. Unlike earlier, now his gaze was angry. When it snagged hers, her blood froze, but Regina refused to let the pain show.

  “Mateo. Here to check on Rex Knowles?”

  “Yes. He’s doing exceptionally well.”

  “So I see from his charts.”

  “I’ll leave instructions for his care, for overnight, but I’ll be back periodically over the weekend to keep an eye on him.”

  That sounded almost like a threat, despite his banal, curt tone, and it was more agonizing than she’d expected, and that was saying a lot.

  She’d been expecting to hurt, but not this much. Surely it would be less painful to have him just plunge a knife straight into her chest.

  “Excuse me,” she murmured, affixing a habitual smile to her lips. “I have a patient I have to deal with.”

  And she forced her trembling legs to propel her away before she lost all control and started to cry.

  She avoided him as best she could over the rest of the weekend, feeling like the coward Cher had accused her of being, and the strain of it had her dragging by Monday morning.

  Not even seeing Kaitlyn Mignon’s genetic test results, and finding out the Fabry disease diagnosis was correct, lifted Regina’s spirits, although she was glad for the younger woman’s sake.

  “Please forward these results to the patient’s primary care physician,” she instructed the nurse at the desk, remembering to smile, although for the last few days her face had felt stiff. As though it didn’t actually belong to her.

  Glad of something to distract her, she made the decision to call Kaitlyn herself and alleviate some of the stress the other woman clearly exhibited regarding her ailments. Waiting for the report to get to her physician, and then hoping they’d quickly pass on the news, seemed cruel when she could just handle it herself.

  And she was glad she had, when Kaitlyn, clearly in tears, wouldn’t stop thanking her.

  “I know you said there’s no cure, and maybe I don’t qualify for the treatment, but just knowing, after all this time, is such a relief. I don’t know how to thank you for that, Dr. Montgomery.”

  “Just take care of yourself,” she said, not wanting or needing the thanks. “And there are both support groups and organizations with information that will be helpful to you. The best thing to do will be to learn as much as you can about the disease, and then you can advocate for yourself, or at least know who to turn to, so they can help if you hit a roadblock.”

  After hanging up, she took another look at the report, and realized she didn’t even care enough to forward it to the administrator who’d handled Welk’s complaint. That could die a natural death, as far as she was concerned. It meant less than nothing.

  All she wanted to do was make it through today and the two days after that without losing her mind, and then she could go home and lick her wounds in private.

  Then the administrator called and asked if she could stay another day, as the doctor she was acting for couldn’t come in until Friday.

  “Her baby is ill, and her husband couldn’t get Thursday off to take care of him.”

  Regina’s flight wasn’t until Friday, and although she really wanted to say no, it would have been churlish, so she agreed.

  Now, if she could just minimize her contact with Mateo, she’d be okay.

  Right?

  * * *

  Mateo tried to remind himself that no one had died. That the end of his relationship with Regina was no comparison to when his father’s Cessna had gone down in the Everglades, and he, along with his siblings, had been orphaned.

  But the sensations he was experiencing seemed to belie that assertion.

  The cycles of numbness, anger and bone-deep pain were familiar, even after all these years. The force of will it took to keep going, and put one foot in front of the other, was the same.

  Each time he saw her, the anguish was amplified, until he could hardly stand it. When he heard through the grapevine that she’d been asked to stay on another day, he was torn between anger and gratitude. His head wanted her gone—sooner rather than later—but even now his heart wanted her to stay. Forever.

  Because it was clear, even in the midst of his pain, that his feelings toward Regina hadn’t changed, and if nothing else, he deserved to understand why she’d rejected him the way she had.

  Surely the connection he felt when they were together wasn’t completely one-sided?

  Even if she reiterated her disinterest in continuing their love affair, she owed him more of an explanation than she’d given.

  He knew he had to talk to her, but he wasn’t ready. His emotions were too raw, his anger too sharp. Trying to have the conversation he knew they had to have would have to wait until he achieved some modicum of control.

  Maybe, he thought in the middle of Tuesday night, when he was trying to work it all out, she needed an opportunity to work through her own feelings. Perhaps, although it would hurt more than he wanted to contemplate, he should let her go back to San Francisco. Give her some time back on her home turf before following her, and making a declaration she couldn’t ignore.

  So on Wednesday he put in for a week off the following month, and booked a ticket to San Francisco.

  Rex Knowles was one of the few bright spots in the days following Regina’s bombshell. The transplant recipient was so happy to be alive and feeling better that no amount of warnings about the antirejection drugs and what he needed to do to stay healthy would bring him down.

  “Dr. Janowitz is supposed to come to give me one last checkup,” he said on Wednesday afternoon. “And then it’s up to you to send me home.”

  “What, are you tired of us already?” Mateo couldn’t help teasing, happy to see the other man smiling, the unnatural pallor he’d developed over the course of his disease starting to dissipate.

  “Well, of you, sure.” Rex’s grin was cheeky. “But I really don’t mind that Dr. Montgomery. She’s easy on the eyes.”

  Keeping the smile on his face after hearing her name was almost impossible, but somehow, he managed it.

  “I said the same thing.” Tim’s voice, coming from behind him, startled Mateo, and he turned to see the surgeon already at the foot of the bed. “Much better-looking than this mug.”

  Mateo didn’t answer, and was thankful when the conversation moved to the surgical site and postoperative care.

  Tim and he left the room at the same time, and although he didn’t feel like having a conversation, Mateo forced himself to walk with the other man.

  “I actually need to talk to you. Do you have some time?”

  “Sure.”

  “Walk with me down to my car.”

  Under different circumstances, Mateo would be intrigued, but nothing mattered right now, except perhaps politeness.

  Tim didn’t start talking until they were outside the hospital and heading toward the car park.

  “I want to know if you’d be interested in coming to work with me, at the new transplant hospital in Plantation.”

  They were passing a bench, and Tim sat down, then looked up at Mateo expectantly.

  It was what he’d wanted, the next best dream to his original one of doing the surgery himself, but he felt no enthusiasm. No spurt of adrenaline brought on by surprise and delight.

  Yet, that was no reason to dismiss it out of hand.

  Just like the pain of his parents’ passing had eventually faded to bearable, if he couldn’t win Regina back, her loss would, too.

  “I would be,” he said, sitting beside Tim. “Tell me more.”

  As Tim outlined what he was involved in, and the role he envisioned Mateo taking, a small spark of interest was kindled deep inside. By the time Tim finished, and they had talked about his status at his present job, a
nd whether he would be able to leave it without difficulty, Mateo realized the fog he’d been battling was lifting.

  Just slightly, but enough to give him back some hope for the future.

  “I’m actually very surprised Regina didn’t mention it to you,” Tim said, capturing Mateo’s complete attention. “Even though I asked her not to, I didn’t think she’d keep that promise.”

  “You spoke to her about this?”

  “I asked her opinion of you, as a doctor, and if she thought you’d be a good fit for what I was looking for. She gave you a solid recommendation, but she did warn me that you were her friend. I got the impression she was telling me she wasn’t unbiased, without coming right out and saying it.”

  “We were more than friends.” The words popped out of his mouth, propelled out by a brain churning to work all this new information out, mold it into something that made sense.

  “Duh,” Tim said, sounding like he was doing an impression of a twelve-year-old girl. “Wait, were?”

  “Yeah, she broke it off, last Friday.”

  “Huh. That was the day I spoke to her.” Tim got up and stretched. “And in case you were wondering, even knowing the two of you were an item, I still trusted Regina to be honest with me. I saw your capability for myself, too, but I still valued her opinion. She was always a straight shooter. I’ll be in touch.”

  Mateo stayed where he was after Tim walked away, turning all he’d heard over in his head, trying to fit the pieces together.

  He’d been about to tell her he loved her, ask her to wait for him. He’d been willing to give up his life in Florida for her.

  Had she realized that?

  And knowing he was about to achieve his dream of being on a dedicated transplant team, decided that was more important than their relationship?

  Or did she really not feel anything for him, the way she’d implied?

  There was really only one way to find out, and one person who could tell him the truth.

  And he was no longer willing to wait to find out what that was.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  REGINA HAD DAWDLED at the hospital for so long that by the time she’d decided she needed to go home and get some sleep, it was almost eight o’clock, and exhaustion tugged at her every muscle.

  Thankfully, she hadn’t seen Mateo that afternoon, although she wasn’t actually sure whether she was thankful or not. She’d seemed to spend an awful amount of time looking for a glimpse of him, as though compelled by forces beyond her control.

  It was long past the time he normally left the hospital, barring emergencies, so as she dragged herself down to her car, the last person she expected to see was him.

  He was leaning on the wall in front of her vehicle, and her first muddled thought was to wonder how he’d known where she’d parked. After all, there were three staff parking levels.

  There was an urge to turn and walk away, but she wasn’t one to run, so she kept going toward him, even though she got the sense that she was walking into some indefinable danger.

  “I need to talk to you.” His voice was hard, but she couldn’t tell whether with anger or hurt. “We can do it here, but it might get loud, and I don’t know if you want an audience like that.”

  She narrowed her eyes, unsure of whether he really meant that, but she wasn’t willing to take the chance. Not with him behaving so uncharacteristically.

  “I’d prefer not to air my dirty laundry in public,” she told him, tipping up her chin to let him know she was in no way intimidated. “But I’m still on shift, and I need some rest. Can’t this wait?”

  “Your place or mine, then,” he said, as though he hadn’t heard her question. “Your choice.”

  She sighed, trying to appear nonchalant, when her pulse was all over the place. “Just come to my place. It’s closer.”

  “I’ll drive.” It wasn’t a request, or a question, and when he waved her toward where his car sat, three spaces away from hers, she decided discretion was the better part of valor, and preceded him there.

  The short trip to the apartment was undertaken in silence, and Regina didn’t try to break it. She was using the time to muster her defenses, staring out the window so she wouldn’t stare at him instead, but just being in such close proximity was delicious torture.

  Still silent, they went into the building. There was a group of young people in the lobby, already waiting for the elevator, and they all got in together.

  One of the young women eyed Mateo in the mirrored door and flipped her hair, as though trying to entice him into talking. Regina didn’t know how he didn’t notice, but when she shifted her gaze to Mateo, it was to find his fixed not on the other woman, but on her.

  It was impossible to look away. His eyes were fierce and wild, and the heat that rolled through her abdomen and flared out into her veins was a visceral reminder of the passion between them.

  The got out on her floor, and she fumbled with her keys, her trembling fingers refusing to cooperate. Mateo took them from her, and the brush of his fingers sent a jolt of electricity up her arm.

  Once inside, she dropped her bag on the console table and turned on the lights.

  “I spoke to Tim Janowitz this afternoon.”

  She wanted to face him, to pretend this meeting meant nothing to her, but she couldn’t. So she walked over to the sliding glass door overlooking the city lights, and watched his reflection instead.

  “About?”

  “About a job on a dedicated transplant team. He said you knew about it.”

  “He asked me not to say anything, so I didn’t.”

  Mateo paced closer, and she saw him stab his fingers through his hair, as though in frustration.

  “Did that have some bearing on you breaking up with me?”

  She wasn’t a good liar. Had never cultivated the art, since she despised people who glibly told untruths without batting an eye.

  “Some,” she admitted, leaving it there.

  “Did you do it because you knew I loved you, and would have passed up the opportunity to be with you, if you asked me to?”

  She closed her eyes for an instant, wishing they didn’t have to do this, or that it didn’t tear her up to have to tell him the truth. But they had gotten to this point, and maybe only the truth, all of it, would do.

  “Tell me, Regina. If you don’t love me, don’t want me, then just tell me.”

  His hand tore through his hair again, and her heart broke at the angry, pain-filled gesture. Finding courage from somewhere deep within, she turned and faced him, finally.

  “This...thing between us was beautiful and glorious, but it’s not meant to last. I can’t be all that you need or deserve.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer.

  “What kind of answer is that, Regina? It was a simple damn request. Tell me you don’t love me, and don’t want me, and this conversation will be over, and you can fly back to California to the job you’ve always wanted.”

  She almost laughed then, at him thinking she was throwing him over for a job, but her chest was too tight with agony to spare the breath.

  “I’m too old for you.” It came out as a whisper, each word cutting her throat at it passed. “You deserve someone who can make a home for you, give you kids, not a driven loner who’s never been able to sustain a relationship, not even with her own family.”

  “No. No, no, no, Regina. You don’t get to come into my life, make me love you, make me need you almost as much as I need air, and tell me BS like that. I don’t need to hear whatever cockamamie excuses you’ve come up with in your head to make this seem right.”

  He was so close now she could feel the heat pouring off him, and it took everything she had not to reach for him, to seek the solace she so desperately wanted in his arms.

  “Tell me you don’t love me.”

  �
��I broke up with you because I knew we couldn’t last—”

  “Tell me you don’t love me.”

  “And I didn’t want Tim to use my recommendation and then find out we were sleeping together—”

  “He’s not a fool. He knew we were sleeping together. Tell me—”

  “And I didn’t want to disappoint you, later on—”

  “Do you think I care about any of this—about a job, or your age, mythical kids I don’t even want or anything else—more than I love you?” His voice was low, vibrating with so much anger he might as well have shouted.

  “Your family needs you, and you need them.”

  He shook his head. “Nothing can come between me and my family, but that has nothing to do with you and me, and whether you love me.”

  He reached out, as if he couldn’t help himself, and traced his finger down her cheek. Then he drew his hand back, and the fierce light in his eyes almost took her to her knees.

  “You know what to do to get rid of me, Regina. Just say four little words: I don’t love you.”

  “I can’t.”

  The admission was dragged from her throat, and had hardly emerged before she was locked in his embrace, and he was kissing her, as though never to stop.

  When his lips left hers, it was to trace a path to her ear, and he whispered, “Nothing else matters, Regina. Believe me. Only love. Everything else is just window dressing.”

  “I’m afraid.” If there was going to be truth, then it needed to be complete, so he could understand. “Afraid that I won’t be enough for you. That I won’t know how to balance a life with you, and still be true to myself. And afraid I’ll hurt you, or your family, because I don’t really know how to be a part of a unit as close as yours.”

  He leaned away so he could see her face.

  “Do you love me?”

  There was no avoiding it and, truth be told, she didn’t want to avoid it anymore.

  “I love you so much it hurts.”

  His eyes gleamed, and he had that tender set to his mouth that had first told her how he felt about her.