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“When were you going to tell me?”
“Tonight.”
“So, what was all this today?”
He ran the back of his hand down my cheek. “It was me trying to say goodbye. To come to terms with . . . well . . . it doesn’t matter.”
It mattered to me. “What about us?”
He swallowed hard. “Scarlett,” he whispered, “you’re going to go to medical school and live your life. You don’t need me to do that.” Some emotion crept into his voice. “Long-distance relationships aren’t feasible.” He sounded like he didn’t even believe that.
“We could try. I’m willing to try. I want to be in your life, Kane.” I sounded like a ridiculous schoolgirl.
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Are you saying you don’t want me?” I squeaked out. I wanted to know what had happened to change his mind. How could he go from telling me yesterday that I was one of the best things to ever happen to him to saying I should go live my life without him?
He opened his eyes and whispered, “I didn’t say that.”
“What are you saying, then?”
He hung his head, then opened and shut his mouth several times before replying, “Goodbye.”
I never knew one word could crush my soul and leave me feeling so empty I couldn’t breathe. And I certainly didn’t know one person could make me so happy and hurt me so profoundly. It was a pain I had never known.
It made me wish I had never met Kane Hudson.
The After
What came after was eight grueling years of medical school and my residency. Marked by my attempt to forget Kane and do exactly what he’d said to do—fall in love. Oh, I tried and tried. But how could I give my heart to someone when it was no longer mine? Despite my best efforts, I never came close to feeling how I had during The Before. If that wasn’t bad enough, apparently stealing my heart wasn’t everything Kane wanted. No, he wanted it all. He was out for blood. My blood. Little did he know, that spelled war. And this time, I didn’t intend to lose.
Houseguest
Eight Years Later
I was doing the right thing. Right? I’d been asking myself this for hours as I drove from California back to Georgia. Honestly, I’d been asking myself the same question for years. Which was crazy, seeing as I’d just spent three grueling years completing my clinical pathology residency at Stanford. Not to mention the four years of med school at Johns Hopkins before that. It was a little too late to second-guess my decision now. I was going to work for my dad at Armstrong Labs. It was set in stone, no backing out now. What were dreams anyway?
It’s not like forensic pathology was as glamorous as TV shows made it appear. Not to say that forensics wasn’t amazing. I mean, forensics helped put away serial killers and solve famous kidnappings like the Lindbergh case. It also gave families closure and peace of mind. Sure, Armstrong Labs was paving the way for innovative blood plasma treatments, which was vital. And my new position as lab director would be important. If only that made me feel better.
I cranked up Loreena McKennitt on the car stereo. I needed a little Celtic music to soothe my soul. The miles seemed to stretch on forever, yet they were going by too quickly. The closer I got to Atlanta, the more I questioned myself. More like my sanity. I wondered if my father would ever see me for who I really was. Would becoming his protégée finally accomplish that? When I was ready to take the reins of Armstrong Labs when he eventually retired, would I finally get more than a pat on the back and a new car, like he had given me when I’d graduated with honors from medical school? He had asked that I stay with him while I looked for my own place. That was something. It gave me some hope that we could have the kind of relationship I’d always wished for. Plus, while I stayed with him, there would be no stepmother or stepsiblings at the house to distract from our time together, as Auggie hadn’t been remarried in two years. I guess ten marriages was his limit. Hallelujah.
Stepmother number nine had been a doozy. The woman, who was younger than me, called me before the wedding to say she expected me to call her Mom. Let’s just say I hadn’t gone to the wedding, and I’d informed Auggie I wouldn’t be attending any of his future nuptials. I refused to deal with any more demanding stepmothers. It was bad enough I was going to be working with several of my ex-stepsiblings. One in particular. The real reason I was questioning myself. Kane.
Kane, the shining star of Armstrong Labs, the COO, the second-highest-ranking person in the company. Thorn in my side. My first love. I’d thought he would have disappeared by now, but no, he was in my face like a breaking news flash on a twenty-four-hour cycle. Whether it was the company newsletter or the quarterly reports highlighting all his accomplishments that Auggie made sure to send to keep me up to date, Kane was always mentioned. Even worse were the holiday dinners. Seriously, our parents had divorced seven years ago, so why in the world did he keep coming to Christmas dinner? He had his own family and mine obviously had issues. The only reason I even showed up was because Auggie, for some reason, always asked me to come and Naomi still lived in Atlanta. She was good incentive to go home. I’d even stayed with her a few times, although I’d stopped after she said it hurt Auggie’s feelings. Regardless, Kane had no business being there.
