She holds the bag closer to her. “No. I think I’m going to go back to my office and eat. I’m a little mad at you right now. I can’t believe you said divorce, Penn.”
My mouth drops open. I’ve hurt her… again.
She leans over and picks up the container that holds the cake. “I’m going to take this and eat it myself.”
She turns to go but then stops. “And Sunday, I know you will probably be working, but I’m still going to have dinner with your family.”
I stand up. “Our family. No matter what is going on between us, my family loves you, Aria, and you’ll always be a part of it.”
I know what my words mean to her. Aria didn’t have a good home life growing up. She’s dreamed of having a big family, and that’s why it hurts so badly that I can’t give that to her.
She shoves the cake into the bag and then with one hand on the door, she looks back at me. “Eat your lunch, Penn. You look tired.” She gestures to the couch. “And that is way too small for you to be sleeping on. Come home.”
I just stare at her. She’s so tempting. I want to hold her to me, confess everything, and then see what happens. Before I can do that, she says, looking straight at me, “I love you.”
I don’t even think about it. “I love you too.”
Then she opens the door. “Five forty-five on Friday,” she says.
“I’ll be there,” I answer.
She nods. “You better be.”
“I will.” And even though I never make promises with my schedule, I do it anyway because this is important. “I promise.”
Her eyebrows lift, and she nods once and walks out of my office.
I stand here long after the door closes, staring at the place where she was.
My heart is pounding. For the first time in days, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. I tried to do the right thing and end things, but that’s not what she wants. I still need to come clean, but maybe, just maybe we have a chance to make this work. We do have options.
All that matters right now is she’s not divorcing me. She’s giving me another chance. And this time, I can’t waste it.
CHAPTER 16
ARIA
The cafeteria is louder than usual today, or maybe it only feels that way because I’m trying not to think about Penn. That’s pretty much impossible when I’m in the same hospital as him. I’ve seen him twice this morning from a distance: once near the nurse station on the surgical floor and once when he was stepping into the elevator with another doctor. Both times, he looked tired.
He didn’t come home last night. I kept thinking he would, and I was waiting. Around ten, I got a text from him telling me that he had planned on coming home but there was an accident on Interstate 40, and he had to stay.
I told myself I understood and I did, but I still wish I could have slept next to him. At least he wanted to come home. That’s something.
All I know is I barely slept.
Now I’m sitting in the cafeteria with Cathy across from me and Knox beside me, pretending I’m listening to their conversation about the new scheduling system when I’m not.
I’m picking at the last few fries on my plate and trying not to check the doors every two seconds.
A few of our coworkers were sitting with us earlier, but they’ve all gone back to their departments. Now it’s just the three of us.
Cathy takes a sip of her tea and points at Knox. “I’m telling you, the whole system is a mess. I had two patients double-booked yesterday.”
Knox groans. “Same. I had Mrs. Ogle and Mr. Bean scheduled for the same time, and both of them were mad at me like I personally built the software.”
I laugh because I know exactly what he means. “Mrs. Ogle is always mad.”
“That’s true,” Cathy says. “She comes in mad.”
