I look down at it, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t silence it and keep going because today is family dinner.
I set the chart in my hand down and take a breath.
Dr. Harris looks over at me. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I look at the patient’s notes one more time and then hand them to him. “I need ten minutes to pass everything off to you.”
His eyebrows lift. “You’re leaving?”
I don’t blame him for sounding surprised because I’m usually the one that stays. Not today.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I’m leaving.”
He waits like he expects me to explain, but I don’t.
I go over the last three patients with him, make sure he knows who needs labs checked, who is waiting on imaging, and whoneeds a follow-up before morning. I answer two questions from a nurse, sign one more order, and then I stop. That’s it.
There will always be a reason to stay, but Aria asked me to come to dinner with our family, so I’m going.
I step into my office long enough to grab my keys and bag. For a second, I look at the couch against the wall. The same couch I slept on too many nights while my wife was home alone, hurting because of me.
My chest tightens, but it doesn’t crush me the way it would have a week ago.
Because I finally told her the truth and she didn’t leave me. She’s giving me another chance to be open and honest with her, and I’m going to give it my all.
I leave the hospital with a lightness in my step I haven’t felt in months.
Outside, the air is warm, and for once, I don’t feel like I’m rushing toward something I’m already late for. Because I’m not late. I set a schedule, and I’m following it.
I stop at the diner first. The second I walk in, the woman behind the counter smiles. “Dr. Brody.”
“Hey, Violet.”
She smiles at me. “What can I get you?”
“A whole Blaze cinnamon cake, if you have one.”
Her smile widens. “For Aria?”
I pause, then I nod. “Yeah. For Aria.”
“I think we have one boxed in the back. Give me just a minute.”
While she goes to get it, I stand there with my hands in my pockets, looking around the diner. Aria loves this place. She loves the cake, especially. I still remember the way she took it from my office the other day, mad at me, saying she was going to eat it herself, but I knew she wouldn’t eat it. She was upset, and she probably ended up giving it away.
Violet comes back with the box and sets it on the counter. “Fresh this morning.”
“Perfect.”
I pay for it, then stop at the small flower shop a few blocks over and grab a bouquet. Not roses. Aria has never been a roses kind of woman. I choose her favorite: daisies.
By the time I pull into Miller’s driveway, there are already a few cars parked out front. Logan’s SUV. Ozzy’s truck. Lindsey’s car. Bree’s minivan.
I park beside Logan and sit there for one second with the cake in my lap and the flowers on the passenger seat. A month ago, I would have been late or I would have disappointed my wife by not showing up at all and not even calling. But not tonight.
I grab the cake and the flowers and walk up to Miller’s front door. Before I can knock, it opens, and Aria is standing there.
The surprise on her face hits me straight in the chest. She’s wearing jeans and a soft blue shirt, her hair down around her shoulders. She looks beautiful, but it’s the look in her eyes that gets me.
