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She’d cried enough tears to sail a fleet upon, had to have used up all her tears, and yet, even now, she could spring a leak that would rival Old Faithful.
A man who would so easily walk away from her wasn’t worth her heartache and tears.
“Speaking of the devil,” she said, turning to let Charlie know she knew he was there. She wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. If she had her way, she’d never cry over him again. “Good afternoon, Dr. Keele.”
He grimaced at her formal use of his name.
Good. He deserved a little grimacing after all she’d gone through the night before and every moment since. But, seriously, what had he expected? A smile and, Glad to see you?
“I imagine you’re here to see Mr. Roberts. He’s in Room 336 and, although he’s still going in and out of atrial fibrillation, he’s otherwise stable on the IV medication since his admission this morning.”
All business. She could do it. She would do it.
No matter that he used to smile at her with his whole being and make her feel like the most precious person in the world.
No matter that two nights ago he’d kissed her all over and done crazily amazing things to her body and held her tightly afterwards.
No matter that his baby was nestled deep inside her body.
No matter that he’d utterly ripped her heart to shreds the night before, forever destroying her faith in him. In them.
No matter that she might just hate him for what he’d done.
He was leaving.
They were no longer a couple.
She no longer looked at him with rose-colored glasses.
He was a doctor. She was a nurse. She could play that game and keep things professional for as long as she had to.
She could hold her emotions in, keep her expression detached. He didn’t deserve to see her pain.
He’d be gone in two months and then letting him see her hurt would be the least of her worries.
* * *
This was how it had to be, Charlie reminded himself as he went to check on his patient.
But to look into the eyes of the woman he’d spent the past year of his life with and see nothing but cold disdain—that he hadn’t been prepared for.
He should have been. He’d known they were going to end the moment he’d told her he was leaving. He’d expected her anger. Maybe her yelling and screaming at him would have been easier than the look of disdain. He’d lived with both, growing up. The yelling, the screaming at how worthless he was, the looks of hatred.
Yet seeing that look on Savannah’s face gutted him.
He examined the unconscious man, checking the readouts on his telemetry, making note of adjustments he’d make to his care.
Hopefully, tomorrow they’d be able to decrease his sedation and start weaning him off his respiratory ventilator.
He heard someone enter the room behind him, but knew it wasn’t Savannah. She gave off a vibe that caused his insides to hum when she was near and he wasn’t humming. Not even the slightest little buzz.
“Do I need to reassign your patients?”
He turned to look at the nurse supervisor, then shook his head. “I’ll be here for two months and plan to take care of my patients during that time.”
She arched a brow at his obvious misunderstanding. “Savannah taking care of your patients won’t be a problem?”
“Not for me.” He put his stethoscope back in his scrub pocket, then got a squirt of antimicrobial solution. Almost methodically, he rubbed his hands until the wet solution dissipated. He tried to appear casual when he asked, “Did she ask to be reassigned?”
