Page 10 of What Should Have Been Ours

I still haven’t gotten to the point where I hate the melody of her voice being played on repeat in my head. I could keep it on a loop and be satisfied forever.

Her face has always been etched into my memories over the years that we were apart, but now it’s been replaced with an older, even more beautiful version to obsess over.

I can’t help but sulk a little over the way she hesitated when I told her I wanted to see her again, like the thought of being around me again seemed too painful for her.

We were both left with broken hearts at sixteen when we were ripped from each other’s lives.

At the time, I wanted to hate my parents so much for taking me from her, but I couldn’t. I knew how much the financial burden of my treatments and the new trial weighed on them. I knew they were only doing what they could to give me a fighting chance against the cruel disease that Acute Myeloid Leukemia was.

Then, when my sickness took a turn for the worse, I thought that was it. I thought I wasn’t going to make it much longer. So I made the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make and cut her out of my life. I didn’t want her to know how bad it was, and I didn’t want her to watch me die. I wanted her to move on so it wouldn’t hurt her as badly. That’s what my sixteen-year-old brain told me was the right thing to do.

My chest feels too tight, too full, too overwhelmed with the thought of letting her go again after I’ve spent years dreaming about this exact moment of seeing her again.

I would be lying if I said the thought of magically running into her in this city wasn’t a contributing factor to my decision to transfer here.

Let’s be real, it was the only reason I wanted to be here, to feel connected again to the only girl I’ve ever loved.

Never thought I would get lucky enough for it to actually happen. Let alone on my first day back in the hospital.

How can this not be fate?

“Who’s the beautiful mystery girl, Dr. Hayes?” Wes asks, bringing me back out of my thoughts.

“Huh, oh, that was…that was Gabrielle,” I answer, trying to get my head straight again.

“That was Gabrielle?” Wes says dramatically. “Damn, you always talk about how beautiful she was, but that’s another level, man. I think I might finally understand your obsession over the girl you haven’t seen in twelve years,” he says, laughing in disbelief.

I just shake my head at him.

Westly Reed—aka Wes—and I have been best friends since undergrad. We made a pact that we would always go wherever the other went. So when he chose D.C for residency, that’s where we went, and when I told him I needed a change and wanted to go back to New York, he gave in and transferred with me. He’s family…the closest thing to a brother I have.

Wes nudges my shoulder, “Twelve years apart, and she still has you looking like a love-sick puppy.”

I roll my eyes, leaning back against the wall as the elevator doors close. “Shut up.”

“So…” He looks at me, lifting his brows, “you gonna see her again or what? Cause how crazy is that? To run into her on your first day back? What the hell?!”

“I know. And I’m not sure. I gave her my number but…” I say, trailing off, not wanting to acknowledge the way she basically wanted to run as far away from me as possible.

Wes hums knowingly. “So, what I’m hearing is you’re gonna sit around staring at your phone like a lovesick idiot until she decides to use it?”

I shoot him a glare. But he’s not wrong.

Just as I’m about to shoot him back a response to play down my obvious feelings, the elevator dings and the doors open up on our floor.

Our second set of rounds are next, and I should be staying focused, pushing my personal life aside like I always do when I put on my white coat. But my chest still feels too tight, my thoughts still tangled up in her.

As we round the corner, my vision suddenly blurs for a split second.

It’s fast, barely noticeable—just a quick wave of dizziness that makes me slow my step.

I grip the stethoscope slung around my neck, roll my shoulders, and shake it off.

Probably just dehydration…or the fact that I haven’t eaten since yesterday.

Westly must notice, though, because he slows beside me, eyeing me. “You good? Gabrielle has you tripping that badly already?”

I force a smirk. “You’re just jealous that I ran into my long-lost soulmate while you’re still out here collecting meaningless phone numbers and bed buddies.”