I shifted my gaze back to him.
“Son, it’s time.”
“No—”
“If you hadn’t been there, he would have died. Does that not mean something to you?”
“And if I hadn’t been there for Allen, he might still be alive—”
“Don’t. Blame. Yourself.” He raised his voice slightly, staring me down. “You’re such a smart young man, Dex. Don’t let someone else’s idiocy change your opinion of yourself. It’s an opinion, not fact. The fact that Catherine allowed that event to sabotage her marriage is a reflection of her poor judgment and self-absorbed personality. It has absolutely no reflection on you as a physician.”
“Dad—”
“How did you earn your reputation as the best heart surgeon in the country if it wasn’t true? Mom told me the surgeon at the hospital recognized you by name. That doesn’t just happen, Dex.”
I bowed my head.
“It’s time.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my hands together.
“Son.”
“No…”
An extended silence passed, a silence filled with so much disappointment.
I didn’t look at him for a long time, opening my eyes and keeping my focus on my hands. “Everything happened so fast, and I just worked off instinct. I’m happy that Mr. Carlton is okay, and maybe I am the reason he’s still alive. But that doesn’t mean I want to be a doctor again. If anything, it reminds me why I don’t. I rode in the ambulance because I had to make sure he made it through the drive. I stayed at the hospital because I needed to know he would pull through. I see Mr. Carlton and his wife every day, fixed his computer for him, and I really didn’t want to lose him. Patients aren’t just bodies to me. They aren’t just a last name and a birthdate on their wristband.”
“That’s exactly why you’re a good doctor, Dex.”
“Well…it’s too fucking hard.”
He inhaled a deep breath and sat in silence, trying to think of the next thing to convince me.
“I’m happy working for Mom. My tasks and responsibilities aren’t life and death, and that’s a breath of fresh air. Maybe I’m more like Mom than you. Maybe this is what I’m supposed—”
“You are absolutely more like your mother than me, and that’s the very reason you’re such a brilliant doctor. You didn’t get that from me.”
I lifted my gaze and looked at him, having no idea how that could possibly be true.
“Being a doctor is more than just being intelligent. I’ve met lots of brilliant physicians and researchers, but they’re arrogant, and that arrogance turns them complacent, which turns into mistakes and poor care. All they care about is fame and fortune, having a huge insurance policy to cover their mistakes. That directly affects patient care, but again, they’re too arrogant to see it. Intelligence isn’t everything, Dex. You inherited your mom’s best qualities, and that allows you to connect with people in a way I never could, and that connection has driven you to solutions others would never find.”
I’d always noticed that Derek and Dad had more similar temperaments and behaviors, and Daisy and I were closer in personality, probably because we got those qualities from our mom. We were all one family, all blood, but there was a distinct line of differences between us.
“You have no idea how hard it is for me to watch my son give up on his dreams because some woman who didn’t deserve him broke his heart. When you’re a father yourself, you’ll understand. You’ll understand that the worst pain in the world is watching your children in pain.”
“I’m not in pain—”
“Because you refuse to acknowledge it. You walk around and make jokes all the time, thinking if you act like everything is fine, then everything will be fine. I see right through it, and so does your mother. You’ve adopted a whole different personality to compensate for the pieces of you that you lost. Enough is enough.”
I dropped my chin.
“Look. At. Me.”
I inhaled a deep breath and looked at him once more, seeing his brown eyes turn fiery.
“You were brave with Mr. Carlton. It’s time to be brave again.”
I didn’t want to disappoint my father. I didn’t want to disappoint the rest of my family. But going back to that life simply wasn’t right for me. I’d moved on—and they needed to understand that. “I’m sorry, but it’s not going to happen.”
A week later, I went back to work.
And everything I dreaded came to pass.
Clients stopped me in the hallway and praised me for what I’d done, and then they asked me why I wasn’t a doctor anymore. I just deflected the questions as politely as possible and continued on my way.
Everything would die down eventually.
Life would go back to what it used to be.
I would just be Dex, the computer guy.
Mom didn’t echo Dad’s words at me, and she acted like nothing happened. She was definitely the good cop, and he was the bad cop. Maybe she just understood complicated emotions better than he did, but she knew when it was time to back off and give me space.
She was a good mom like that.
I sat at the desk and scrolled through my device when Sicily approached the office. She pushed the cart in front of her, which was now empty with the exception of the utilitarian vases that were used to keep the flowers wet before they were switched out. Her heels tapped against the hard floor as she wheeled it into the storage room. I hadn’t seen her much over the last few days, and unlike everyone else, she didn’t ask me a million questions about the whole thing.
She took a seat at the desk beside me. “What are you working on?”
“Making my schedule for tomorrow.” I scrolled through my tasks before I turned to look at her. “What about you?”
“Psh. I’m done for the day.” She crossed her legs and slipped off one of her heels to rub the bottom of her foot. “Serious question, how does everyone rock heels here all day long? I feel like I’m dying by the end of the day.”
“Well, I don’t rock heels.”
“Lucky bastard.” She clenched her toes a couple times before she slipped her heel back on.
“Yes. Another perk of being a man.”
“Like you don’t have enough as it is.” She turned back to her computer and moved the mouse so the screen would light up. She’d been in the condo when I walked inside, on her knees, covered her in blood, and putting pressure on his wound as she waited for help to arrive. Mrs. Carlton was too busy going into shock to spring into action, but Sicily didn’t hesitate. That was commendable.
I heard footsteps, so I turned to see Mr. Carlton and his wife approaching. “Oh no,” I sighed to myself, knowing what was going to happen before it even happened. They carried gift baskets in their hands, and Mrs. Carlton was already in tears when they approached the desk.
I stood up and took the initiative. “You’re looking good, Mr. Carlton. I’m sure the wife will dig the scar.” I gave him a wink.
He didn’t respond to my lightheartedness in kind. He set the basket on the desk, which held an assortment of cheeses, cookies, and wine. “I know there’s never anything I can do to show my gratitude for what you’ve done, but thank you.” He looked me in the eye, the emotion obvious in his gaze. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
I wished I had something to say to that, but I really didn’t. It was hard to accept his gratitude, to accept his gift, when I didn’t feel like I deserved it. “I’m very happy you’re doing well, Mr. Carlton.”
He extended his hand. “Call me Adam.”
I took it and gave a slight smile. “That’s gonna be hard to remember. I’m so used to calling you Mr. Carlton.”
“That’s what my friends call me. And you’re my friend.”
I went back to silence, unsure what to say.
Mrs. Carlton moved into me and hugged me. “Thank you so much.”
I hugged her back, giving her a gentle rub on the back. “You don’t need to th
ank me.”
She pulled away and looked at me with tear-stained cheeks. “I’m a person who believes everything happens for a reason, that there are no coincidences. I believe you were meant to be here, Dex. You were meant to save my husband’s life. God bless you.”
Now I was speechless.
The two of them stepped over to Sicily next, who was visibly moved by the scene unfolding in front of her. “We have a basket for you too.” Mr. Carlton set it on her desk. “Thank you for everything.”
Just like me, she didn’t know what to say. “I’m so happy everything worked out. And I agree with you, Mrs. Carlton. I don’t believe in coincidences either.” She rose from her chair and hugged them both, and after a brief conversation, they left.
I looked down at my basket and saw the card tucked inside, another round of gratitude that would be too difficult for me to read. There were some good snacks inside, and I could leave it on the coffee table and eat it while watching TV.
“That was nice of them,” she whispered.
“Yeah, it was.” I put the basket in the back of the office so it wouldn’t be in the way. I took hers too. “What are you going to eat first?” I returned to my seat beside her.
She was looking at me with a distant look in her eyes, like she hadn’t heard the question I just asked. “Cleo told me you’re a heart surgeon…”
I couldn’t hold back the sigh that escaped my lips because I knew what was coming next. I turned my head away and stared at my desk, deflecting the statement as much as possible. “Was. Was a heart surgeon.”
“You clearly don’t want to talk about it, so I won’t ask you anything.”
I turned back to her, surprised by what she said.
“But I Googled you the other night and saw all these articles about your education, how you graduated high school crazy early and finished your surgical residency by the time you were in your early twenties, all the philanthropic work you’ve done in South Africa, the awards you’ve won for your research…”
Now I wondered if everyone else had done the same, if everyone in the building knew I had reached the top and fell to the bottom.
“I don’t understand why you’re here, Dex. You’re meant for such bigger things. I won’t ask why—it’s none of my business, and it doesn’t change my opinion of you. But I hope someday you find your way again.” She ended the conversation by turning back to her computer and moving the mouse on her desk, so the screen lit up once more.
I watched her for a while, appreciating the way she spoke to me, the way she didn’t ask me a million questions that I clearly didn’t want to answer. She gave me space, gave me respect, and that was much better than people interrogating me every minute of the day. “You did great too.”
She turned back to me, her long brown hair shifting slightly with her movement, swaying like a silk curtain.
“Anyone else would have panicked, but you didn’t. You kept the pressure on the wound and called an ambulance while Mrs. Carlton completely lost it. Most people can’t handle intense situations like that—they literally stop thinking and just fall apart. But not you. You made a difference that day too.”
She stared at me for a while before a slight smile moved on to her lips. “I guess working at the medical office prepared me. We didn’t have many emergencies, but they would happen once in a while.”
“You don’t believe in coincidences, right? Then maybe you were meant to be here too. If you weren’t, how long would it have taken someone to call an ambulance? What if they ran away from the gunshot instead of running toward it? Would Mrs. Carlton have been able to do all that?”
She watched me for a while, looking into my face like she saw more than just my features, saw deeper down. There was something about the color of her eyes that was fascinating to me. They were a beautiful green color, but sometimes gray in the right light, and they had a steely appearance that was both kind and hard. “Yeah, maybe we were both meant to be here.”
I sat at the table in the sports bar, my stomach growling because I was starving. There had never been a time when she wasn’t late, so I’d gone ahead and ordered a basket of fries. I munched on them now while I drank from my beer.
Then she walked in, wearing black skinny jeans with boots and a gray sweater. Her heavy satchel was over her shoulder, her dark hair long and down her chest, bouncing as she moved to the table. “Sorry I’m late.” She set the bag on the chair beside her before she took a seat across from me and looked at the fries like they were a Christmas present.
“Are you?” I took a drink as I stared at her.
“Am I what?” She grabbed three fries and shoved them into her mouth like she was ravenous. “Man, I skipped lunch today, so I’m starving. Now I understand why people eat other people when they’re snowed in at a cabin.”
I gently pushed the basket of fries toward her. “Please don’t eat me.”
She rolled her eyes then raised her hand to get the waitress’s attention. “Girl, I love your boots. Where did you get them?” Instead of ordering, they had an exchange about clothes and their shopping preferences.
I pulled the basket of fries back toward me and ate while they talked.
They exchanged numbers and made plans for shopping on the weekend before the waitress walked away.
I stared at her blankly as I kept eating.
“What?” She grabbed the basket and pulled it back to the center of the table.
“Did you order anything?”
She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Geez, I’m dumb.” She raised her hand to get the girl to return.
Laughing, the waitress came back. “Oh my god, I just realized I didn’t even take your order.”
“That’s how it goes, right?” Daisy said. “When girls talk about clothes and going out, everything else gets put on the back burner. So, I’ll take whatever you’ve got on tap, and I’ll do the monster burger with curly fries. Medium well.” She handed the menu over then looked at me.
“I’ll take the same.” I stacked my menu on top of hers.
“That’s romantic,” the waitress said. “You guys ordering the same thing.”
“Oh god, no,” Daisy snapped. “Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. This is my brother.”
“Ooh.” The waitress then looked at me totally differently now that she knew I wasn’t claimed. “Good to know.” She walked away.
Daisy turned back to me. “Am I what?”
I stared at her blankly. “Huh?”
“Earlier you asked ‘Are you’? Am I what?”
“Oh. Are you actually sorry for being late because you’re always late?”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, you know how it goes. Office gets crazy. Like I said, I didn’t eat lunch today.”
“I know exactly how it goes, but I’m not late as often as you are.”
“Well, we both know I’m worth the wait.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder then took the drink from the waitress when she came back. “Thanks, girl. And yes, my brother is single.”
The waitress gave me a smile before she walked away.
“You don’t have to do that.” I watched my sister go after the basket of fries again.
“Do what?” she asked innocently.
“Throw tail my way.”
“Look, she was interested, and I was just helping her out.” She squirted the ketchup onto her plate then dunked the fries in it, getting them so soaked in ketchup there was no way she could even taste the fry underneath. “I was doing it more for her than you.”
Whenever I was with my sister, I didn’t chase tail or accept free drinks from admirers. It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable being myself around her. I just chose to spend all my energy paying attention to her because she was all I really cared about. “How was your day?”
“Insane. I had this patient come in with these weird symptoms, symptoms that are only indicative of a serious illness, but his scans and blood work are totally normal, so how is that possible? It’s not po
ssible. There’s definitely something going on, but I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is.” She continued to eat, her mind working behind her eyes, running through everything all over again.
“You’ll figure it out, Daisy.”
“I know I will. I’m just not sure how long it’s going to take.” She stared down at her plate, wiping the fries through the remaining ketchup that was quickly being depleted.
My sister had followed in our father’s footsteps, but instead of becoming a practicing physician or medical researcher, she was a medical investigator and a brilliant diagnostician. She worked at a world-renowned clinic in the city, with a team of people who combined their minds to solve cases no one else could. “How’d your game go?”
“Killed it.”
I smiled. “Like always. How much was the pot worth?”
“A million.” She rubbed her fingers together like she felt the crisp bills in her fingertips.
“What are you going to buy?”
“I think a Bugatti. Jet-black.”
“That sounds like you.”
The waitress brought the food and set it in front of us.
“Oh, thank god. I’m starving.” Daisy unrolled her silverware and placed the paper napkin in her lap.
“You just ate a whole basket of fries,” I said incredulously. “How can you still be starving?”
“Because of this machine.” She tapped the side of her temple before she picked up her burger and took a bite.
“When’s your next game?”
“Next weekend. Atlantic City.” She was a professional poker player, her mind able to do statistical analysis in real time, calculate probabilities instantaneously. Other players had tried to get her banned a few times because they accused her of counting cards, but there was no way to prove it, so she slid by. There was no way they could prohibit her from playing just because she was too brilliant. That would be discrimination. “You wanna come?”
“I’d love to, but I’ve got to work.”
“Lame.” She kept eating.
“Count me in next time—no pun intended.”
The Doctor Who Has No Ambition (Soulless Book 9) Page 9