Page 62 of Doctor Dearest


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I drop my fisted hand before I can knock again and instead gather in a shaky breath.

“Please,” I say, letting my forehead drop against the door. It makes a heavy thunk and I hear her gasp.

Then the handle wiggles and the door is unlocked and eased open slowly.

Natalie stands on the other side, hands hanging limp, pale eyes rimmed with unshed tears. She looks utterly exhausted, bone-weary. I don’t have a clue what she needs from me. Maybe Daniel was right. Maybe I should have left the bar and given her space to lick her wounds, but I can’t be good or logical or sane right now. I can’t. I want her too badly.

I step into that bathroom and I close the door behind me. The lock clicks into place and it feels like I just loaded the chamber of a gun pointed straight at my heart. This could be it. This could be the final straw.

“I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, focusing down on my chest with her brows tugged into a harsh line.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Apologize?”

“Don’t…”

She says it again, and the word is a quiet whisper of restraint.

“Do anything,” she concludes.

Oh. Right. “I’ll try not to exist.”

She groans and drags her hands through her hair. Her fingers disappear into the dark strands, and the sight of her comes into sharp clarity. The yellow light in the bathroom forms a halo around her. What a scene, truly. The stained toilet behind her, the cheap tile floor, the chipped mirror—she transforms it. She casts a spell, and we might as well be standing in the Gardens of Versailles.

“It’s hopeless. You.” She bites out the word like it’s a curse and points her finger at me. “You can do whatever you want. Ignore me, chase me, taunt me—it doesn’t matter.” She steps closer and pokes her finger into my chest. “It’s like you’re a cancer inside me. This isn’t what it’s supposed to feel like. Love is supposed to be simple.”

“Yeah? You think love is simple? A key you fit inside a lock and then poof—no fights? No hardships? Just a downhill walk with your soulmate by your side for the rest of your life?” I grab ahold of the hand she’s using to poke my chest and I flatten out her palm, pushing it against my heart. “Sure, maybe love can be simple, but sometimes, it’s a real struggle. People have gone to war over love, Natalie. They’ve spanned oceans. They’ve left their families and their homes behind. They’ve given up their jobs. They’ve put their dreams on hold. Love isn’t simple. That’s a lie. Love is a fight. Love is a plight of the human condition. You either choose to suffer it, to feel it like a cancer inside you, or you give up and you walk away unscathed.”

She swallows and stares at me, thinking.

“If we go forward, maybe it won’t be easy for us. Between us, we have—what, a handful of free hours in a week? We have demanding jobs we love. We thrive in the hospital. But all that doesn’t matter. If we want to, we can make this work.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Give me a real chance. Give me the chance to make this right, or hell, give me the chance to screw it up. I might. If you want the truth, Daniel might be a better fit for you. He worships the ground you walk on. He asked Noah for permission to ask you out. Chivalry seems to come easy to him, but not for me.”

She frowns. “You’re selling yourself short.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes. Your chivalry is the subtle kind, the kind that folds the laundry and takes out the trash.” I laugh and she shakes her head, stepping toward me. “The kind that buys Jade new pajamas.”

My cheeks grow hot. I’m uncomfortable talking about this and Natalie can tell. She leans forward and slowly wraps her arms around my middle. I tug her against me and I still half-expect her to fight me, but instead she sags in defeat. My breath catches in my chest.

“Natalie?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to take the easy way out? Are you about to leave?”

If so, I’d rather know now. I feel hesitant to take a breath, wanting to capture this moment and hang on to it for as long as I can.

She sniffles and tries to cover it up by half-turning away. I tip back, trying to get a good look at her, but she won’t let me. She wipes her cheeks and pieces herself together before she looks back at me.

“I don’t think I can leave.”

Her mouth curves into a sad amused smile and I squeeze her closer, guilt festering inside me even more. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing here. I don’t want to hurt her, and right now she looks so damn hurt.

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