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The Girl Who Always Wins (Soulless Book 13)

Page 9

by Victoria Quinn


  I’d never seen him act this way, and I didn’t know what else to do besides stay calm. “You misunderstand me, Atlas. Adopting children to grow our family is perfectly fine with me. But that doesn’t mean we can’t see this through. It’s not even for us to have children together, but for you to know that this is an option for you.”

  He shook his head, his jaw clenched.

  “I’m an investigative diagnostician. Just because other doctors say no doesn’t mean I accept that answer. Not until I know myself. Not until I see for myself. And if we can figure this out, imagine how this breakthrough will help millions of people like you, people who are told they can’t have children—”

  “This isn’t going to work.” Now, when his voice emerged, it was calm, it was quiet. It was like a spooky forest, so quiet that it made all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. His head was down, his eyes directed to the rug beneath his feet.

  “Maybe it won’t work. It’s perfectly fine if it doesn’t. But we have to try—”

  “No.” He lifted his chin and looked at me. “Us. It’s over.”

  My posture stiffened, all the muscles in my back contracting uncontrollably. I suddenly became tense, my knuckles aching. A breath came in. A breath went out. But it was so loud in my ears, like I wore a biohazard mask. “What…?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Atlas—”

  “You don’t accept me as I am. You don’t accept the hand I’ve been dealt. You still hope that all those doctors were wrong and we’ll be able to conceive naturally.” He shook his head. “What happens when these tests determine what I’ve already told you?”

  “Then we adopt—”

  “Then you leave.”

  “I’m not going to leave—”

  “Yes, you will.”

  My eyes started to water. “I would never do that to you—”

  “Then you’ll stay out of obligation and resent me for the rest of our lives.”

  “No—”

  “I gave you my conditions. If you want to be with me, that’s what you’re going to get. The fact that you went behind my back and roped your family into this bullshit—”

  “Behind your back? I’m just trying to help you!”

  “I wouldn’t need help if I was fine the way I am—and clearly I’m not. At least not for you.”

  “You’re completely misinterpreting what I mean.” Tears streaked down my cheeks.

  “So fucking insensitive…putting me through all of that when I already did it once before.”

  “It would be different this time—”

  “Because the Hamiltons are coming to my rescue?” he asked viciously. “I don’t need to be saved. I need to be accepted as I am—which you can’t do.”

  “I do accept you—”

  “No, you fucking don’t.” He pushed to his feet and started to pace, his muscular arms red with pumping blood. “Leave.”

  “Atlas, I’m not going anywhere—”

  He marched to the coatrack and yanked a sweater off.

  I ran across the room to get the door before he could, but his finger had already stabbed the button and the doors opened.

  “Atlas.” I grabbed on to his arm. “Listen to me—”

  “We’re done.” He didn’t twist away or make a movement, just pushed me away with his eyes. “I deserve to be with someone who accepts me as I am, who is happy to have adopted children with me, not put me through that horrendous and humiliating experience all over again.”

  Now I started to sob. “I was just trying to help—”

  “I don’t want to be with a woman who thinks I need help.” Now his eyes flooded with tears, angry tears. “You looked me in the fucking eye and said they would be ours…ours. And then you do this to me.”

  “Please don’t go.” I sobbed and pulled at him. “Please.”

  This time, he twisted out of my grasp and stepped into the elevator, slamming his hand into a button. He faced me but stared at the panel, waiting for the doors to close so he could get away from me.

  “Atlas…”

  Silence.

  “That’s not what I meant…”

  The doors finally started to close.

  “Goodbye, Daisy.”

  9

  Atlas

  I went to the bar where Dr. Hamilton and I had celebrated after our shift at the hospital.

  But there was no celebration now.

  That happiness that had inhabited every inch of my body, that unspeakable joy, that happily-ever-after feeling…it was fucking gone. The sun had set, but this time, the sun wouldn’t rise again. I sat alone at the table, only a few people inside, and drank as I looked out the window into the darkness. Taxis passed, looking for fares from midnight travelers.

  I just needed to wait until Daisy left.

  I got a notification on my phone every time the elevator doors opened to my penthouse.

  They hadn’t opened yet.

  If she dragged this out, I’d crash at a hotel if I had to.

  When I returned to my home, I didn’t want her there. I didn’t want to repeat anything that had already been said. It was done. Over.

  I hadn’t felt this shitty since my parents died.

  Fuck…why did life have to be so fucking hard?

  Why did I have to fall in love twice—and both women were wrong for me?

  I called the automated system at the lab to say I wouldn’t be coming in. Since I was the director at the clinic, I didn’t have to call anybody. Just wouldn’t show up. Do all my shit at home.

  I got a notification on my phone.

  She finally left.

  The penthouse felt different the second I walked inside.

  The energy had changed, like someone had just died on the living room floor. This was going to be a home for the both of us, for us to sit side by side on the couch and work in the evenings, talking about our patients, living in perfect harmony.

  Then maybe two kids who needed a home would join us.

  Not going to happen.

  I fell onto the couch and lay still, my eyes immediately closing, the depression so deep that I instantly fell asleep.

  In the morning, I woke up to messages on my phone.

  None were from Daisy.

  One was from Dr. Hamilton. Everything alright?

  We had a lot going on in the lab, and I wouldn’t have called in sick unless I was physically unable to stand on my own two feet—which was totally accurate. Just need a day. I’ll be back tomorrow.

  If you only need a day then you must have food poisoning.

  Yep.

  Drink some Pedialyte. That’ll help.

  Will do.

  Wasn’t sure how I was going to work with him now.

  He’d be professional and omit his daughter as a topic of conversation.

  But he might treat me differently, and I wasn’t looking forward to that.

  I didn’t sleep well that night.

  So, when I went to work the next day, I was a bit out of it.

  I went into the lab and got to work, knowing Dr. Hamilton was in the other lab preparing the samples for the next trial. I was isolating cells from the patients who had had success to compare them to the ones who were different. If I could figure out what it was, maybe we could understand a way to help everyone, not just a select few.

  When my alarm went off, I knew it was time to shed my lab equipment and get to the clinic.

  I’d been dreading it all day.

  How was this supposed to work?

  How was I supposed to see her every day and be professional?

  Not just see her…but talk to her.

  Collaborate.

  Spend hours alone with her in the same room.

  I didn’t see how that would ever go well.

  I went to the clinic and powered through the lobby and the assistants to get to my office without interruption. Daisy didn’t call or text, thankfully, but maybe she was waiting to speak to me face-to-face.

/>   I wished she wouldn’t…because it was done.

  My ass had barely touched the chair when Anthony walked inside. “Dr. Beaumont, I need some help with this.” He helped himself to the armchair across from me, holding a stack of folders.

  I set my bag on the desk and pulled out my laptop. “Shoot.”

  “Daisy handed off her patients to me for a couple days, and I said yes because she said she was incapacitated at the moment. But I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. Any way I can hand them off to you?” He held up the folders.

  She didn’t come in because of me.

  And who suffered the most because of that?

  The patients.

  I didn’t come in yesterday for the exact same reason.

  It had been stupid for us to get involved, but I did it anyway…because I knew she was the one.

  Well…I’d thought she was the one.

  I stared at him for a while before I stretched out my hand. “Yeah, I’ll take over.”

  10

  Daisy

  Work was the one thing powerful enough to distract my mind, to make me forget my heartache, to stop me from replaying the same conversation over and over, thinking of what I should have said and what I shouldn’t have said.

  But that wasn’t fair to my patients.

  Because I was too depressed to focus.

  If I ever suspected he’d have that reaction, I wouldn’t have suggested it.

  I was a physician. I found solutions to problems. I thought he would understand that, but he took it the wrong way.

  I didn’t call or text because I knew that was pointless. He needed some time to cool off, needed his space. Coming at him right now would just make it worse. That was another reason I didn’t go to work—so he wouldn’t have to see me.

  If I’d really lost him…I wasn’t sure what I would do.

  Mason broke my heart, and I moved on.

  But this…this was different.

  I couldn’t brush this one off.

  I had to fix this. I had to make this right.

  The first step of that was to give him space.

  Even though that was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do.

  After a couple days of lying on the couch, crying as I ate Taco Bell, I headed back to the clinic. It was like any other morning, and I walked inside, greeted my assistant, gave a quick hello to my colleagues, and then went into my office.

  A moment later, Atlas walked by.

  His eyes were focused on his office to the exclusion of all else.

  He probably had no idea I was there, but he didn’t want to risk eye contact in case I was.

  That meant he still needed more space.

  Ugh. Fucking torture.

  I went into Anthony’s office. “Hey, how are my patients?”

  He sat behind his desk, in a collared shirt and tie. “Not sure. I was a bit overwhelmed, so I handed them off to Dr. Beaumont.”

  I tried not to react, but I was overwhelmed with disappointment.

  Anthony must have seen my reaction because he studied me deeper. “Everything alright?”

  “Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Totally. I’m sure my patients were in great hands.” I walked out and headed back into the lobby. Atlas was visible through his glass doors, working on his computer, wearing a t-shirt.

  I literally had nothing to do unless I got those folders back.

  I could send my assistant, but I wasn’t a pussy.

  I smoothed out my dress, sucked in a breath, and then held my head high as I stepped into his office.

  His gaze was on me, lifted from his screen, staring at me with eyes that were ghostly. There was no noticeable reaction, just a slight coldness, an indifference.

  It hurt quite a bit.

  I approached his desk and didn’t take a seat because I didn’t intend to stay. “Anthony told me he handed off my patients to you. I apologize for that. I gave them to him because I assumed he would handle them himself.”

  He dug into his bag and set the folders at the edge of the desk. Then he went back to his computer, his eyes reading the words on the screen. “I ordered a couple labs and looped in a specialist. Haven’t found answers yet.”

  I took the folders and held them to my chest. “Thanks…”

  He kept his gaze on his screen, his eyes following the words.

  I knew he still didn’t want to talk, so I walked out.

  It stayed that way for a couple days, Atlas never approaching me for one-on-one conversations. While every other physician at the clinic got private follow-ups on their patients, I was abandoned.

  The only interaction I had with him was during our staff meetings.

  And even then…it was very little.

  The frustration kicked in because he’d had enough time to cool off, but the flames of his white-hot inferno of rage continued to blaze on.

  He acted like I was a villain—when I just tried to help him.

  At the end of the day, everybody was getting ready to leave, and that was when I threw my paperwork down and marched to his office.

  Since he would never be ready, I just needed to go for it.

  But I didn’t have high expectations.

  I walked inside and headed straight to his desk.

  As if he knew this would be a long conversation, he closed the top of his laptop and gave me his undivided attention.

  I faltered because I’d forgotten how beautiful his eyes were, how strong his shoulders looked, how kind and loving he was. A wind of loss swept through me, and I missed him more than ever. Everything I planned to say went out the window. “I’m sorry about everything. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to be insensitive. I never meant for you to think you aren’t enough…because that’s not how I feel.” All my anger disappeared because I didn’t have the headspace to be mad. I was in survival mode, fighting for the best thing that had ever happened to me. And I needed to grovel, beg, do whatever was necessary to get him back. “I love you…so much.” I sucked in a breath, steadying the emotion that started in my throat. “I just… I’m sorry.”

  He held my gaze, his eyes slowly softening, their edge fading.

  “I would have said something sooner, but it seemed like you needed space.”

  “I did.”

  “Do you…still need space?” I couldn’t suffer this anymore. I couldn’t be apart from this man. I wanted to pack up my shit and move in to his place tonight, to forget this horrific week.

  He dropped his chin and broke the contact between our eyes. “I know your heart, Daisy. I know you’re a woman who doesn’t take no for an answer. When someone says you can’t do something, you do it just because they said you couldn’t. I know you were just trying to help me. And I also understand you have no understanding of my perspective in this, no understanding of the trauma, because it’s something you have to experience yourself to understand how it feels. I can’t even begin to describe how horrific it was.” He shook his head slightly, swallowing. “I forgive you for all of that. But—”

  “Please don’t say but.” My eyes watered.

  He wouldn’t look at me. “I need to be with someone who fully accepts my situation—”

  “I do.”

  “If you did, you wouldn’t have even bothered with all of this—”

  “Like I said, I find solutions to problems. How much better would you feel if I found the solution—”

  “Daisy.” He turned to me, giving me a hard gaze.

  I shut my mouth.

  “I’ve made my peace with my life. I don’t need a solution. I don’t need an answer. I’m perfectly happy to adopt. I would much rather adopt than put myself through all that. So, I need a woman who understands this, who respects how I feel.”

  “I do respect you.”

  He shook his head again. “You wanted a solution because it would allow you to have children biologically.”

  “And there’s something wrong with that?”

  “No.” He turned his gaze ba
ck to me. “But you should be with someone who can give that to you. And I deserve someone who is happy to adopt.”

  “I am happy to adopt, Atlas. You’re misunderstanding this entire situation. Yes, I want to find a solution so you can have biological children. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want a boy with your eyes and good heart, and I want a daughter who has my mom’s eyes like I do. But if that can’t happen and we adopt, that works too. Because whatever that future looks like, if it’s with you, I’m happy. Naturally conceived kids, adopted kids, sperm donor kids…doesn’t fucking matter. I want whatever happens. I’ll be happy with whatever we have. I will go through this journey with you wherever it leads.”

  He kept his eyes down, on his desk, his hand propped against his jawline. “I can’t do that…”

  “Atlas—”

  “I won’t go through that again.”

  “I’m not going to leave you—”

  “When you’re in a different place in your life, you will feel differently. You’ll be a woman without a child, and when you fantasize about what features your child will inherit from you and your spouse…you’ll feel differently. I need to be with a woman who accepts adoption as the first and only choice. And that’s not you.”

  “Atlas…” The tears broke through the dam and streaked down my cheeks.

  He kept his gaze averted because he couldn’t bear it. “As much as I love you…I need to be with someone else.”

  I blinked, and that’s when more tears fell.

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It is what it is.”

  I was silenced, not by his dismissal, but my own heartbreak.

  He was quiet, giving me a chance to say my final words or walk out.

  “I don’t think I can do this…” I wiped my tears away and rolled them on the tips of my fingertips. “I don’t think I can work in this office with you every day.”

  “I agree. We’ve been unprofessional as it is, to our coworkers and to our patients. That’s why I’ve decided to step down.”

 

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