Page 46 of The Doctor

“Why don’t you stay?” There was no hiding the plea in my voice.

“Why?”

Because I miss you.

Because I’m miserable without you.

I rolled the words around in my mouth, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them. Instead, I offered, “Movie night?”

Though the movement was minuscule, I didn’t miss the way her head jerked back.

“I’ll let you pick the movie. Anything you want.”

“Anything?” Mischief glimmered in her eyes, and when I pressed my lips into a firm line, she gave me a glimpse of her beautiful smile. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, wrapping her warm fingers around my hand still tight on her arm. “I won’t choose a horror film.”

“I don’t have a problem with horror films,” I told her, a little peevishly.

She tilted her head to one side, and her smile turned sad. “No spiders, then.”

A shiver raced down my spine. I gave a nod.

“You make the popcorn?”

I let out a heavy breath, then let my lips tilt into a smile. “Anything for you, kid.”

She blinked, then tore her gaze away. “I’ll get the drinks.”

I missed her smile. I missed her eyes upon me, and I wanted to get them back.

She was staying. I told myself that was something. I told myself that was enough, though everything inside me screamed that wasn’t the truth.

I wanted more.

Slowly, because I didn’t want to, I let go of her arm. She dropped her school bag at the base of the stairs and toed off her shoes, then led me to the kitchen.

In the past, she used to hop on the counter while I made the popcorn, watching as the kernels exploded and the little white puffs fell out into the bowl. She used to talk to me, giving me mundane details about her day and her life and every last one of her thoughts.

Tonight, she poured our drinks quietly, and then left the room without a word.

I felt like she was punishing me, and I didn’t know why. I’d had so much going on in the weeks since I last saw her, I could hardly remember our interaction. Had I said something to hurt her? Had I scared her when I forced her to drive?

Whatever it was, the details were lost somewhere in the back of my tired mind, swirling around with the minutiae of Santini’s physical therapy and Nadia and Michele’s return and all my fucking patients I’d had to deal with since.

My chest squeezed when I found Clara in the middle of the couch in my den, arms curled around her legs and remote in hand. She was flipping through the movies, her attention not leaving the screen as I set the popcorn down on the ottoman and claimed my usual seat.

It wasn’t until she settled on an action movie that she turned to me, caution in her gaze and muscles stiff. She gifted me the tiniest smile before looking at the space beside me where she usually sat.

Where she sat the last time we’d watched a movie.

When we’d woken up with our naked bodies pressed together.

Jesus, fuck.

My chest tightened to the point of pain, and it didn’t let up again until the girl moved, taking her time to rise from where she sat and come my way. She took a seat beside me, snagged the popcorn from the ottoman, and leaned back until her arm barely brushed mine.

“This one looks good,” she said, her attention locked on the screen. She popped a few kernels of popcorn in her mouth, and my gaze lingered on where her fingers touched her lips. “I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” I reached into the bowl in her lap, letting my shoulder brush hers as I did. And I kept doing so, kept rubbing against her, trying to tempt her to return to me. To be the wild, spontaneous Clara I knew and loved.