Westin continues. “You see, Dr. Adams made a clerical error. The document would’ve been signed had it not have been placed in the wrong patient file. Which is why it’s unsigned,” he says while looking around the room. “While I know following procedure is a priority here, I’m sure we wouldn’t want to crucify a doctor who has always given her patients the best medical care possible over a lost paper. More than that, punishing Dr. Adams would be a great disservice to the patients she’s saved and could save.”
“Dr. Grant,” I interrupt.
His eyes meet mine and I can’t breathe. “There are things that we do that are forgivable when it’s in the best interest of the patient, Dr. Adams. Things that are foolish, but come from a place of caring. That day, you’d suffered the loss of a patient, along with a lot of other things that clearly led to you being out of sorts.”
Every muscle locks, and I don’t want to think he’s found some way to forgive me because if he’s just covering his ass, it’ll decimate me. But Westin is standing in front of the room, commanding it, and eliminating any chance of me telling the truth now. If I do, it’ll make him look like a fool and a liar.
I had a plan. I was going to do this the right way, and maybe a small part of me hoped that Westin would see that and find a way to at least not hate me. Now I don’t know what to do, but my judgment hasn’t been the best in the last few weeks, so I stay quiet.
I’ll follow his lead and hope he’s not leading me into the fire.
Dr. Pascoe clears his throat. “So the paper was filled out, but put in the wrong file, which resulted in it not being signed by the auditing and advising doctors?”
“It appears that it was,” I say, corroborating Westin’s story.
“Well,” he sighs.
“Since the medication wasn’t the cause of Allison Brown’s death, Dr. Adams clearly wasn’t at fault. We’ve read and reviewed the reports along with the surgical notes. Dr. Adams handled things exactly as she should’ve, so I don’t believe that the review board should take any drastic measures.”
Dr. Ney speaks now. “I agree, this was clearly an oversight of a very prestigious doctor.” She gives me a sad smile.
I feel worse than I did thinking I’d lose my job. Westin put his entire career on the line and lied on my behalf. He covered for me when he never should have.
Dr. Pascoe looks around. “But still, we can’t allow doctors not to have major forms signed. If the FDA or NIH were to look at this, the hospital would face serious repercussions. We could lose our research hospital status, making it difficult to run further trials.”
Westin still doesn’t look at me, but he nods slowly, seeming to process what he says. “I would suggest a probationary period of three months, a two-week suspension, and a formal reprimand,” Westin suggests. “It’s a message that these things can’t happen, but we also understand it wasn’t malicious.”
Basically, a slap on the wrist, but it will go on my record. I came in here ready to lose my job and no longer practice medicine, and instead, he’s talking about a much more lenient punishment.
The question remains, why would he defend me? After we spoke, it was clear he couldn’t forgive me, so why now?
“I would agree,” Dr. Pascoe says. “Does the board have any further questions?”
Everyone’s head shakes and then they start to get out of their seats.
In all of my imagined versions of how this would go, never in a million years was this it. I could never have hoped I would still be a doctor here or that Westin would defend me. I’m not sure how to process it.
A part of me wanted to be punished. Punished much more severely than the consequences I’m looking at now.
The guilt was all-consuming, and now there’s a new wave of it.
I stand here, as they file out. Dr. Pascoe walks over. He smiles, touches my shoulder, and squeezes. “This hospital needs you. I think maybe you should take a few weeks and allow Dr. Ney to work on the trial in your absence, okay?”
I’ve never known him to advise doctors to take time off. “Okay?”
His hand drops and he sighs. “When my top doctor needs to take days off after a patient loss, it’s something deeper. Take the time, Serenity. Recharge and then come back to work. The two weeks wasn’t because of the patient, but for you.”
Westin walks over and shakes Dr. Pascoe’s hand. “I’ll be by your office in a few minutes. I just need to handle something,” he explains.
They share a look and Dr. Pascoe nods and leaves.
“Hi,” Wes says after the room is cleared.
I don’t want to exchange pleasantries. I want to know what the hell is wrong with him. “Why?” is all I’m able to get out.
He moves in front of me, resting against the table. “I’m not a hundred percent sure I know why. When you started to go down that route, I couldn’t let you. Everything inside of me was screaming to stop you.”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen that way.”
“Which is why it didn’t,” he says.
Westin is no longer the controlled man from the boardroom. I can see that he’s grappling with what just happened.
“I wish you hadn’t.” I look down at the floor. “I was willing to take the fall and deal with the choice I made.”
His finger tucks under my chin and he lifts it so we’re eye to eye. “I couldn’t watch you destroy yourself any more than you already have. Her death wasn’t caused by you changing the medications. Her heart was weak, and she died. It was tragic, but you’re not a bad person, Serenity. You just did a dumb thing. If you didn’t think there was anything wrong with it, that would be one thing, but you know you fucked up, and you were going to lose it all to save your colleagues.”
I step back and shake my head. “No, I was just making sure I paid for what I did.”
“Let someone else save you for once.” He moves closer.
My eyes meet his with my heart racing. “You can’t say things like that,” I warn him.
“Why not?”
For so many reasons. My emotions are all over the place and I can’t seem to stop myself from saying them. Westin is—was—my safe place. He’s the person I wanted to be able to say anything to, and now it comes out too easily.
“Because you don’t love me. Because people don’t save me, it’s never been that way. Because it will make getting over you harder.”
Westin’s eyes close and he runs his hands through his hair. “I’m telling you to let someone take care of you, love you, and protect you for a change.”
“And are you going to be that person, Wes?”
We both know he won’t. He made it clear that we’re done, and I don’t blame him. He did what he did to save me, but on a strictly professional level.
He moves another step closer, and I tilt my head to look into his eyes, needing to see confirmation that he means what he says. “If you’ll let me, I want to be.”
“But,” I start to say and move away. I can’t think like this and all I want to do is believe this is real, but I’m afraid. “You said all those things, but how can you possibly feel that way? I screwed up so bad, I hurt you, lied to you, and now you, what, forgive me?”
I don’t know why I’m trying to talk him out of this, but I don’t want to feel this way ever again. Loving Westin was a leap I wasn’t entirely prepared for and then to fall without a net damn near broke me.
Westin grips my arm, stopping me from getting away. “I was angry and felt betrayed. I’m not saying I’m over it or that it’ll be easy. But I’ve spent a long time waiting for you, and the fact you were willing to come in here and lose your career for me . . . I don’t know, it shows who you are. You might be lost right now, but I’m holding out my hand, asking you to let me pull you back.”
I gaze up into his soulful green eyes, looking for a sign to tell me this is a dream. “I don’t want to screw this up.”
He runs his fingers down my arm, taking my hand in his. “The only mistake we’ll m
ake is to walk away at the first sign of struggle. I love you, Ren. That means even when you fuck up, I’m going to be here to help you back up.”
Tears form and my lip trembles. I wanted to hear this. I prayed for another chance to prove to him that I was the girl he loved all along, I just got off track.
“I’m so sorry,” I say as a tear falls.
“I know,” he sighs and wipes my face. “I know you are, and I am too. I should’ve let you tell me when you were in trouble.”
I shake my head. “I put your entire career in jeopardy, you don’t owe me any apologies.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, and I melt. I don’t care that people could see us as tears stream down my face. I couldn’t stop myself from crying if I wanted to. Right now, he’s holding me. Westin’s arms are around me, keeping me from falling, and I feel at home.
For so long, I thought I had to close myself down in order to find my center, but I was so wrong. Being open to him is what made me face everything and see how destructive I was being.
“Can you forgive me anyway?” Westin asks.
I touch his cheek. “If it makes you feel better.”
“It does, and we’re going to spend the next two weeks figuring things out,” he says. I tilt my head, not sure how that’s going to happen. I’m off for two weeks on suspension. “I put in for vacation this morning. I had an early meeting with the board, where I was offered the chief position.”
“Wes!” I squeal and he holds me tight against him. “That’s amazing!”
He grins. “I told them that I would accept as long as I could take a few weeks to get some personal things in order.”
He planned this? “Is that why I got the suspension?”
“No. That was just a lucky coincidence. However,” he brushes my hair back while touching my face, “I’ve decided that we’ve spent enough time apart, waiting for one of us to be ready. And we need this.”
He doesn’t have to convince me. I want to rebuild what’s been broken. It’s clear that with Westin is where I belong, and I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting to hold onto him. Nothing is easy, but he’s worth the struggle.
“All I need is you.”
Westin leans down, presses his lips to mine, and kisses me with so much love, I feel it in my toes.
Epilogue
~Five years later~
“Mick, you have to help me out here, man.” Westin passes my dad a beer. “There’s no way the Cubs are going to win the World Series back to back.”
“This conversation is lame,” I reply as I rest my head on my father’s shoulder.
“Babe, you have to tell your brother he’s wrong!” Westin urges.
I look at Everton, who just returned home for leave before he reports to his duty station. Then I back Westin up. “You’re stupid and wrong.”
Everton shrugs. “I’m telling you, it’s going to happen.”
They continue their argument as I nestle closer to Daddy. We’re up at the farm for a few days. My father suffered a stroke about six months ago and he’s now living with us in Chicago. Twice a month, we ride out here, and let him enjoy being in his space.
I never understood that being at home could affect huge physical difference in patients until I began taking care of my father daily. I feel as though both Westin and I have become better doctors for it as well. We see the whole picture and have both adjusted our treatment plans because of it.
“What do you think, Daddy?”
He jerks his head up and tries to speak. “Idiots.” Thankfully, Westin and I can understand most of what he says. He’s been getting stronger with Westin’s help.
Westin scoffs and then drains his beer. “Am not.”
“Yeah, that’s debatable.” I roll my eyes at all of them and get to my feet. I look at my brother. “And you’re definitely an idiot.”
Everton flips me off and I laugh as I walk into the kitchen.
Three Christmases ago, Westin signed the house over to me. I cried, hugged him, made love to him, and took it as the first real sign that he had one hundred percent moved past everything that happened with Allison Brown-Peyton.
The house has been mostly redone, but in a way that it’s in line with its roots. I stand in front of the sink, looking out at the grass and think about my mother. She would’ve loved the changes to the house, and she’d be happy with how we’re all doing now. Daddy has been doing well, minus the residual speech issues, and it’s been nice having him around. I think he likes the company as well.
My brother joined the Marines a few years ago, and is shipping off to Japan for three years. It wasn’t until he finished boot camp that we even found out he was in the military, but the look of pride on my father’s face said it all. As much as him taking off changed the dynamics, I think it was the best thing possible for everyone.
I can only hope my mother is at peace with how I’m living as well. The first year after my giant mistake was rocky, but we found our way. I struggled with the guilt, secrets, and trying to build a new foundation with Westin. He grappled with trusting me, but through a lot of talking, we were able to learn the power of forgiveness.
The more I held onto my past, the more it was dragging me down. It wasn’t until my first trial patient’s tumor shrunk and I saw that I could do good things, that I was able to heal a little.
Arms wrap around me from behind, and Westin’s chin rests on my shoulder. “What are you smiling about?”
“My family, work, you.” I lean my head against his.
“Me?”
“Yeah, I guess I like you.”
His arms tighten and he kisses my cheek. “I guess that’s a good thing, huh?”
“I tend to think so.” I smile a little bigger.
He turns me around and I wrap my arms around his neck.
I more than like him. I’m so madly in love with this man I can’t see straight. Westin saved me in so many ways, and I’ll never be able to thank him for it. He loved me when I didn’t even realize I needed to be loved. He was always supportive, emboldened me, and then, when I fell from grace, he lifted me back up. Each time I ran, he chased me until it was my turn to stand and face life.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggests.
“Okay?”
He kisses my nose, and takes my hand, leading me outside. I wrap my arms around his middle as we stroll down the little dirt path that goes to the tire swing.
“You know I fall in love with you a little more each day?” he says it as both a statement and a question.
“Is that a good thing?”
He laughs. “I tend to think so,” Westin repeats the words I used a few minutes ago.
“Are you happy, Wes?”
His green eyes stare down at me and his grin is warm. “Yes. I’m happy.”
“Good.”
“You make me happy,” he adds on.
I’m glad, because I’m not the easiest person in the world. We work together, live together, and take care of my father; it’s not always sunshine and roses. Which is why the farm trips are never missed. When we’re here, it’s like life slows down. We’re able to breathe, and not be two insanely busy doctors, trying to save the world. We’re two people.
Life is simpler here.
Love lives here.
My parents built this place with their hearts and souls. You can feel it as soon as you step in the door. It’s like taking a breath, and when you exhale, all the bad things leave your body.
“I love you very much,” I tell him.
“I know and I love you,” he says before kissing me.
We make it to the swing, and he gets behind it as I climb up.
“Did you want to talk?”
Westin lets out a short laugh. “You can’t handle the quiet, can you?”
“You usually want to talk when we come out here,” I remind him.
Over the last few years, this has been what he does. We come here, go for a walk, and he reveals something that’s on his mi
nd. I’m just wondering what it could be this time.
“I’m getting that predictable?”
“No, I just can see there’s something going on in that head of yours.”
I look back from over my shoulder and he holds the tire still and then comes around to face me. Westin squats down in front of me, caging me in.
“Do you still love being a doctor?” he asks.
“Most days. Do you?”
“If I was one, I would say yes,” he sighs.
In the last few months, he’s pulled back a bit. As chief, his days are filled with paperwork, complaints, and cleaning up messes. He’s almost never in the operating room, and for a surgeon, that’s home. It’s where you feel alive, and it feeds your soul.
“You are a doctor, Westin,” I remind him.
“What if I asked you to move out here? Would you give it up? We could come live on the farm with your dad, work a little less, and just relax more.”
I won’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it. Especially each time we drive away from here. I find myself looking forward to the next visit.
“Would you really be happy with that?” My hand touches his cheek, and he leans into my touch.
“I’d be happy with you no matter where we were.”
I can’t stop the smile that forms at how sweet he is. Westin says what he feels, no matter what, when it comes to me. I’ve learned over time to do the same. I show him, but sometimes, it’s nice for him to hear the words as well.
“I feel the same way, but I don’t know that we could go from living a life at a hundred miles per hour down to ten and be happy. What happens when all the projects we do every other week here are done? How would you fill your time?”
He wiggles his brows with a mischievous grin. “I can think of one.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I want to marry you, Serenity. I want to live the rest of our days together and not just passing each other in the hallways. I want to wrap my arms around you at night and know you’ll be there when I wake up. We’ve lived our lives for everyone else, now it’s time for us to live for ourselves.”
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