I expect the door to close behind her, but it doesn’t. “Is everything okay, Penn?”
The use of my first name grates on me.
Without looking at her, I move to the other side of my desk, putting it between us. Maybe it’s everything going on at home or the way Aria looked at me last night like I was breaking her heart. Either way, being alone in my office with my charge nurse suddenly feels too personal.
“I’m fine, Miss Jenner.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “If you need to talk, I’m happy to listen.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m fine. I just need to file a few things, and I’ll be right there.”
She takes a step toward me and holds out her hand. “Here. I can file that for you.”
I pull the folder away before she can touch it. “No.” The word comes out too loud.
Her eyes widen, and I force myself to take a breath. “I’ve got it.”
Her gaze drops to the folder, and it takes everything in me not to curse. The last thing I need is anyone in this hospital wondering what I’m hiding, especially someone known for spreading gossip.
I slide the folder behind me and wait for her to leave.
Instead, she smiles. “I’m looking at two different summer programs the hospital is offering for continuing education. Do you think we could talk about them over lunch today?”
“I was just going to grab a quick sandwich,” I say as I move toward my briefcase. I planned to file this in my office, but it looks like I’m taking it home instead. “I have a consult this afternoon, and?—”
“Perfect.” She nods like I agreed. “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria. Eleven-thirty?”
At this point, I’d agree to about anything to get her out of my office. “Sure. Eleven-thirty.”
Her smile widens. “Actually, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
She finally leaves, and when the door shuts behind her, I let out a rough breath.
I barely slept last night, and I can feel it.
After I followed Aria home, she went straight to her office and shut the door. I told myself I was giving her space, but the truth is, I stood in the hallway staring at that closed door, trying to find the courage to knock.
I never did.
This morning, I found her curled up on the couch, still wearing the clothes from last night. Her eyes were swollen, and one hand was tucked beneath her cheek. She’d cried herself to sleep.
I wanted to wake her up and tell her everything. I should explain to her why I’ve been pulling away and why I get upset anytime someone talks about babies. But I didn’t. Because if I tell Aria the truth, I’ll lose her.
And if she stays, I’ll spend the rest of my life waiting for the day she starts to resent me or wish she’d made another decision.
The folder cuts into my palm, and I look down at it. I’ve had all the tests, and I’ve seen specialist after specialist, but the one thing Aria wants most in this world I can’t give her.
I know what I need to do and that I should probably let her go.
Aria wants a family and a house filled with laughter and little footsteps. She wants the kind of love she never had growing up, and she deserves all of it. I’m the one thing standing in her way.
I stuff the folder into my briefcase, then lock it inside the cabinet in my office. I have a two-hour operation this morning, and my patient deserves my full attention. No matter what is falling apart at home or how badly I want to go downstairs and find my wife, I can’t carry any of that into surgery.
I take a few deep breaths, grab my coat, and walk out of my office.
By the time I step into the operating room, I’ve pushed everything down where it belongs. Thankfully, I’ve done this so many times that the procedure has become routine.
For almost two hours, I get to be exactly what everyone in that room expects me to be. Calm and controlled. It isn’t until I’m out of surgery and heading toward the cafeteria that everything comes rushing back.
