“John,” I say with a smile as I see Mrs. Whitley’s son.
“Dr. Adams.”
“How are you?”
He looks over at the door where his mother is. “I’m okay. I was able to get a few hours off and came down here.”
“She misses you.”
I see the shame pass in his eyes. “I wish I could make it more, but with work and the kids. It’s just . . . hard.”
I have to push aside my own feelings about this wonderful woman and remember that everyone deals with things differently. It’s not my job to judge this man, but I can’t help but think of my own mother and how I would’ve gone back in time for just one more minute with her. One second where I could hold her hand, feel her love, or hear her voice.
“I understand, but she doesn’t have a lot of time left and she loves you so very much. I don’t want to see you regret anything.”
John’s hand goes to the back of his head and he squeezes. “I have regrets that a few days can’t solve.”
The fixer in me is screaming to tell him that what he’s doing now won’t help things, but I stay silent. “Well, I’m sure you made her day being here today.”
“Hopefully I can come again in a few days with the girls.”
I give him a soft smile. “I really hope so too. I know she’d love to see them.”
He nods once and then starts to walk away. When I’m right at the door he calls my name.
“I know you think I’m a shitty son for not being here, and I’m sure I am. She talks about you all the time and how much time you spend in her room. Whether or not we’re here, I’m glad she’s had you.”
I think about my brother and how he’s handled losing my mother. I want to tell John all of it, but I’m not sure if I should. How many times did we tell him to go more and he didn’t? Countless times. Fuck propriety. If I can stop anyone from spiraling like Everton, I’m going to do it. “I lost my mother to cancer,” I say. “I know the pain of watching someone you love die, but she’s going to die, John, and I promise, you’ll wish for the time you’re squandering now. You’ll want to reach for the phone or just sit beside her and you won’t be able to. Come back with the girls because I promise if you don’t, you’ll regret it and never be able to fix it.”
He doesn’t say anything as he walks away.
I turn, take a few deep breaths and plaster a smile on my face. “How’s my favorite patient?” I ask as I walk into Mrs. Whitley’s room.
“Tired,” she croaks. “Lots of pain today.”
I look at the chart, noticing that her vitals aren’t strong either. A nurse walks in and I write some notes. “Up her fluids and let’s give her another dose of morphine for the pain.”
Mrs. Whitley is starting to fade. I’m not ready to say goodbye to her. I need her in my life more than ever. Part of me hates myself for getting attached to her. It was never a surprise she had cancer, I’m the one that diagnosed her. But each day I find myself more drawn to her.
“John came today,” she tells me as I sit beside her.
“He did?” I smile, wanting to let her have this moment so I pretend I don’t know.
“He . . . he sat here and told me about the girls.” She coughs.
“When did the cough start?”
She ignores me. “I saw pictures.”
That’s great, but I’m worried about her lungs. I stand, put my stethoscope on and listen to her lungs. Her breathing is shallow, but she sounds clear. “Tell me about the cough.”
Mrs. Whitley takes my hand. “Let me tell you about John.”
I sit on the edge of her bed and realize she doesn’t want Dr. Adams right now, she needs a friend. Her days are filled with a lot of nothing, unless we visit with her. Today, she wants to tell the story, and I want to listen.
“Okay.” I smile and place my hand over hers. “Did John show you pictures?”
Immediately, her face brightens. “He did—they’re getting so big. I hoped he’d bring them, but they were on a video on the phone. He said they’d come again soon.”
She speaks and I listen, offering my happiness when she pauses. You can see the weight lift off her shoulders as she relays the information about her grandchildren and son. John stayed for just under an hour, but it made her entire day.
Even with her health deteriorating, her spirit has definitely taken a turn for the better. We talk about the trial, but mostly I just enjoy listening to her.
I imagine if my mother were still alive, this is what she would’ve been like. Whenever we visited her, she was happy, feeling like she could beat the odds. I hear the hope in Mrs. Whitley’s voice, and I pray that she’ll get more days like this and I hope John returns tomorrow.
“It’s nearing, isn’t it?” she asks me after about twenty minutes into my visit.
“What is?”
She looks at me with knowing eyes. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“No, you’re having a small setback, but we’re all going to do what we can.”
Her hand touches mine. “Tell me about your doctor.”
“I think he’s upset with me.”
“What did you do?”
I scoff. “Me? Why couldn’t it be him?”
“Because I know you and he’s dreamy.”
“You’re smitten with him,” I say as I push back her white hair. “I don’t blame you, he’s a catch.”
Mrs. Whitley’s eyes close but she has a soft smile there. “Be sure to make it better because time isn’t a luxury we can afford to spend.”
“No, it’s not, but he’s hurt and so am I.”
She pats my hand, looking as though she’s drifting off. “Time heals all wounds.”
Time heals all wounds, but when you’re fighting a broken clock, each second counts.
Chapter 16
“So, how did it go today?” Rich asks as he places the cheeseburger platter in front of me.
“Great,” I say before shoving a fry in my mouth.
If great means embracing a married man in the hallway of the hospital like a moron. Because that’s what happened. I stood where anyone could see us, which wouldn’t be a big deal if I didn’t melt into him. I hug family members all the time in comfort, but it doesn’t ever look like that, though.
I spent an hour in Mrs. Whitley’s room. When I left, she was resting, but her vitals improved and I felt comfortable with where she was at. The fluids seemed to give her a boost and I’m glad we caught it when we did. Westin had to rush into an emergency surgery, and was still operating last I checked.
Here I am, asking him to go with me to see my dad in a few days and I’m in reverse down memory lane with a man who doesn’t love me. The truth is, I don’t love him like that, but I can’t stop my heart from feeling this ache and letting my memories take hold of my mind.
I tell myself to put it behind me, and I believe I have, until I see them or hear something. Then I’m thrown back in time to where I felt safe, my mother was alive, and I had hope for a family and a marriage. Bryce made it so easy to trust him with my heart, and as soon as things got difficult, it was as though we meant nothing.
I just want it to stop hurting, but my mother always said you had to go through the pain to get over it. So maybe that’s what this is? I have to feel all the shit I shoved down for years, pretending it didn’t exist, so that I can really move forward.
“I knew you’d do good, but I also think you’re a liar.” Rich’s brows rise. “I’ve known you long enough to see when you’re putting on a brave face.”
Of all the days I have to be readable, why this one? “Can you pretend today that I’m telling the truth?”
“All right, but you and I both know what happens when you keep it bottled up. The pressure builds until it all explodes.”
Oh, it’s exploding and I’m going to be the one who gets hit from it. I won’t survive this blow.
“I know, but today I can’t,” I admit.
Rich gives me a small smile and t
ouches my hand. “Maybe tomorrow then.”
Hopefully tomorrow my skin doesn’t tingle where Bryce touched me and I don’t smell his cologne on my scrubs. I’d really like to not replay the way he held onto me for dear life every ten seconds. If all of that could go away, I could think straight and realize how wrong I am and snap myself out of it.
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore . . .” I say to Rich without meaning to say it aloud.
Rich stops wiping down the counter and looks at me. “Doing with what?”
I look into his wise eyes, hoping for some guidance because I’m drifting. “I loved someone a long time ago. I loved him in a way that was almost unnatural. It was fast, reckless, but it was like breathing for the first time after being held underwater. It was beautiful, painful, strong, and yet so weak because it fell apart like we were nothing.”
Rich nods. “I know that kind of love.”
“Is that what you shared with Ester?”
“Kind of. We were crazy kids who were on a warpath of destruction. It was this bar that grounded us.”
Ester was an amazing woman. She was always kind to us, made sure we were working hard, studying, and eating. I swear, it was her mission to feed us. I’m pretty sure that was all part of their game plan, keep people fed and they kept coming back.
“Do you miss her?”
He looks at the photo of her that sits behind the bar. “Every single day. Much like your father feels, I’m sure. Her death rocked my world, but we had a good life.”
“Yeah, he misses my mother. So much that he fired the cleaning crew, scared off the home health aide, and is leaving it up to Everton to handle the house. Which means the place is a mess.”
Rich chuckles and grabs the rag. “Sounds about right.”
“Men,” I roll my eyes with a smile.
“You know, when a man truly loves a woman, he’ll never move on. We all have that one person. Sometimes we marry them, spending an eternity trying to prove we’re good enough for her. Other times, we lose them and spend our lives wondering how we were so stupid to let that woman go. Sounds to me like you’re one of those ‘other times.’”
I dip my fry in the ketchup, swirling it around, thinking about what he said. “I’m in between. My sometimes and other times have collided. For the first time, I want things to work with Westin and me. He’s good for me and we’re good for each other.”
Since the night we went on our date, I find myself thinking of what a future would look like with him more.
His smile is full of pride. “I hoped you’d say that. I’ve known that man a long time, Serenity Adams, and he’s a good one. He’s got a lot of love in his heart.”
“But my heart is at war and I don’t know what to do.”
Rich touches my hand. “You know what to do, you just don’t want to do it. War is just a fancy word for conflict, there’s a right and a wrong and you’re battling with which side to choose. Is this love you had once right for you?”
“No.”
“Is Westin?” Rich asks.
“Yes,” I look up, pleading with my eyes to tell me what to do.
“Then you’re not at war. You just need to choose your side and do what’s right to avoid bloodshed.”
My eyes close as the truth of his words washes over me. I should’ve sent Allison and Bryce away the day they showed up. I knew it in my gut that this was a bad decision, but I didn’t want to screw up the trial, or at least that’s what I told myself. The truth is that I was afraid I’d never see Bryce again.
Which is exactly why I knew he should go.
“Why do you have to be so smart?” This conversation needs to stop here for my own sanity.
Rich grins. “I’m old. With age comes wisdom, which is why you should listen to your dad when he says something.”
My father would love Rich for saying that.
Someone down the bar calls Rich’s name for a drink, and he winks at me and heads to help his other patrons.
Dad was right when he said this was a bad idea, but I thought I had it under control. I was so wrong.
“Ren.”
I jump. “You have got to be kidding me,” I groan as Bryce sits down next to me. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk,” he says.
“No, I don’t want to talk. I need to forget you. I need to eat food, get some sleep, and kick cancer’s ass tomorrow. What I don’t need is to be followed by my patient’s husband.”
Today isn’t the day for us to talk. I’m too broken down and I have no fight left.
“You have to help me,” he starts.
“Why is that, Bryce? Why do I have to help you?”
“Please, I know you don’t want to hear this, but don’t you see we can both get what we want?”
I’m suddenly not very hungry. Instead, I feel like I could be sick. I push the plate away and release a sad sigh. I want to be angry, I should be furious, but I’m just sad. I feel as though someone has beaten me down and I don’t like it.
“I’m not getting anything I want. In fact, I feel like this is some cosmic joke.”
“I know,” Bryce sighs and he sits on the stool in defeat. “Believe me, of all the doctors in the world, you were the last person I anticipated would walk through that door. I never thought we’d be standing here today. It sure feels like the laugh is on us, huh?” His hand rests on the bar, close to mine, but not quite touching.
Seeing a little fleck of sadness in him softens me just a bit. “I guess it is.”
Bryce releases a half laugh. “You know, I wondered about you for so long.” He stops talking, looking at me with shame in his eyes. “I dreamed for years about seeing you again and how I’d be so angry and that I wouldn’t care how you’d been. My visions of how it would go were nothing like this. But I gave you up when I started to fall in love with Ali.”
“Please don’t do this,” I plead.
I’m trying to not care about him. I want to move forward, put Bryce behind me and look toward the future, but he’s making it unbearable.
His hand touches mine, and my stomach drops.
Bryce continues on. “I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to think about you. I don’t want to remember what it felt like when it was you I woke up next to.” My heart races as he continues to talk, and I pull my hand away. “When I saw you again, it was like I was thrown back in time.”
This is wrong, but here he is, saying all the things I wanted to hear years ago. “You need to stop,” I say while clutching my chest. The ache is so great I worry I’ll crumble. “Bryce,” I sigh. “I can’t help you. I can’t do this anymore. You need to go back to North Carolina and find a new doctor. This is too hard for me.” A tear falls down my cheek as I admit my defeat for the first time aloud. “I have someone I’m trying really hard to move on with, and you being back . . . it’s destroying that chance.”
He has to go. I’ll lose the trial or find another way to help the other patients. But if he stays, I don’t know who I’ll be at the end of everything.
Bryce’s eyes blaze as he pushes himself back. “Do you think this is easy for me? My head is messed up. I have a wife, Chick. A wife who’s sick and needs my full attention and support.”
“So go,” I point to the door. “Go back to her. Go back where you belong, Bryce. Live the life you had and let me move on. Just go,” my voice cracks.
He leans forward on the stool. “I want to, but I can’t. I just want to get this thing between us resolved so we can put it behind us.”
“Well consider it hereby resolved. You’re married and your wife needs you. There’s nothing more I can offer you.” I place a twenty on the bar and walk out.
“I should be used to your back walking away by now,” he yells as I take a step down to the busy street. I stop, my heart racing and tears filling my vision. “I watched you do it all those years ago. I thought you’d come back to me, but you never did.”
“I loved you, Serenity. I’ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you and I never thought I’d recover from losing you.”
I turn, feeling breathless and unsteady. His eyes are filled with years of regret and disappointment. “I called you . . .”
He shakes his head. “You called after months! Months of me trying to find ways for us to work it out.”
“You stopped calling me as well. You were angry because I had school and my family to attend to.”
Bryce takes a step closer. “I had commitments too, but you were my number one.”
All this time, the two of us held onto this. Despite the fact he’s married and I’ve been with Westin, there’s been this . . . thing . . . festering inside of us.
“That day . . .” I start, but choke on the words.
“You broke my fucking heart.”
“So you broke mine to get back at me? You ended things on the worst possible day.” He ended them on the day my mother died.
“You left!” The anger in his voice breaks me out of the sadness that was threatening to overwhelm me. “What does it matter what day it was? Every day was the worst day. Every time I called or begged you to come, you were too busy.”
Yes, I left, but it was fourteen years ago and I had to.
“I never wanted to leave, Bryce. I didn’t have a choice! I did what was right for my family, and fuck you for not understanding that. You wanted my world to revolve around you, but I wanted more. When we met, I told you I was going to be a doctor and that meant sacrifice.”
His chest heaves as he glares at me. “And I guess I’m the one who has to sacrifice now . . . again, for you.”
“How the hell are you sacrificing now? I’m the one who’s in the impossible position of treating your wife. Do you think this isn’t hard on me? Do you not understand that I’ve spent the better part of fifteen years wondering about you, replaying things with us? I loved you more than you could even fathom. When I lost you,” I choke on the sob that rises up. “I lost a part of me.”
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