Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
He shakes his head. “He broke his back. Well, they’re not sure if it was broken. Definitely sprained. But he was in a lot of pain. They went in to do exploratory surgery. He’s originally from Ohio, so his parents were driving up to be with him. But he died on the table.”
“He died during surgery?”
He nods but looks away. Another telltale sign that Henry is lying. I briefly ponder if Dr. Alexander can read me so easily.
“His parents are suing. They think it was the anesthesia. His father’s a big-time lawyer, too. He’s got commercials on TV. Real channels like Fox, not just local stations. And get this—the guy who was driving the Prius is a pretty famous actor. Well, not too famous. But famous enough that he’ll probably have deep pockets for a settlement.”
Now I’m certain this story is fabricated. Because he just keeps spinning it, like a spider—all different directions and round and round. If I don’t stop him, in ten minutes the story will have morphed into something unrecognizable from where it started.
“Henry…” I use a stern but tempered tone. “Did your friend really have an accident?”
He frowns and changes the subject, rather than answer my question.
“I don’t think the guy who was subbing for you while you were out liked me.”
“Why do you say that?”
He shrugs. Then babbles on with a new story. This one about a woman he’s started talking to who I’m not sure is real. I should be paying better attention, but I’ve been distracted all day. Ever since Sarah broke the news that a certain patient is no longer a patient. Of course, the mistaken delivery didn’t help matters, either. Lately my life has felt a lot like trudging through mud. More and more things weigh me down as I go, but I have to keep pushing forward.
My buzzer goes off while Henry is in the midst of yet another story. I wait until he finishes and then wrap things up. Sarah pops in as soon as he’s gone.
“I’m going to head out in a few. Are you sticking around?”
I nod. “I have some session notes to catch up on.”
“I’m going to make myself a green tea for the road. You want one?”
“I’d love that. Thank you.”
After she’s gone, I stare down at my daily appointment sheet. Gabriel Wright is the only name not crossed off. Deep down I know cutting all ties is the right thing to do. There shouldn’t have even been any ties to cut. Yet I feel a heavy sense of loss. And I can’t stop myself from wondering a dozen what-ifs…
What if he wasn’t who he was, and he and I had matched on the dating app instead of Robert? It’s lunacy to even think about such a thing, yet I can’t deny that part of me was attracted to him. Would I be dating him right now? Would I have met him for drinks the other night, instead of Robert? Would I have gone home with Gabriel? Slept with him? There’s some sort of chemistry there. Sadly, his two-minute appearance during my date was a stark reminder that I don’t have that with Robert. No spark. No fire. No pull. Which stinks because Robert is a great guy—the guy I should’ve been dreaming about last night, rather than my patient. Or ex-patient now.
I waste another hour sitting at my desk. My mind isn’t focused enough to write the session notes I need to get done. So I decide to pack up for the day and take my work home with me. I have my own appointment with Dr. Alexander first, but maybe after that I’ll take a bath with some lavender-scented salts to try to clear my mind. A glass of wine while I soak might help, too.
I haven’t even touched the green tea Sarah made before she left. It’s cold, so I nuke it in the microwave and dump it into my travel mug to take with me. As I get to the door, I’m still in the fog that’s surrounded me all day. I’m also balancing an armful of files, my laptop, and my Yeti, and I have to shift it all to one side to dig my office keys from my purse. My nose is down as I swing the door open and walk through—and crash straight into a person.
One by one, the files in my hands start to slip, and I bend forward to catch them. Which causes my tea to tip over. I must not have sealed the lid right, because the plastic pops off and the entire contents of my large travel mug spill, all over the person I’ve crashed into. It happens in a split second.
“Shoot. I’m so sor—” I freeze when I get a look at the handsome face looking down at me.