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“Oh, I, uh, no, I guess I didn’t,” I muttered.
“Isn’t he your boyfriend?” Jasmine asked, with that ever-mature curiosity I’d only ever seen from her.
I shook my head, unable to speak, my jaw locking in place. Without saying goodbye, without registering how rude I was being to Jasmine or Harriet, I left.
I strode right to the Orthopedics department, my heart beating in my chest. It was the same feeling I’d had when I’d met Adrian at that damn brunch my father had planned. It was pain and longing andfear, and I knew I couldn’t live without him, not after everything he’d offered me—the affection, the healing, thelove—because it was love, I was sure of it. He loved me, and for whatever reason, he just felt like he couldn’t say it. The fact that Adrian was self-sacrificing wasn’t known just by looking at him.
Everyone took him as arrogant, as stuck up, as confident, but someone who isn’t self-sacrificing doesn’t sleep on a sofa waiting for a girl to wake up, he doesn’t put his reputation on the line for a kid that no one thinks will survive, he doesn’t leave his dream job for whatever goddamn reason he had concocted in his brain. His refusal to admit his feelings for me again was just another symptom of this condition, I was sure of it.
Jonah was with a patient, so I straightened out my face, and prepared my most professional voice for entering the room. I could be fired for disrupting his rounds, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t, when the other half of my heart had already given up so much just for me.
“Dr. Milward, could I have a word, please?” I asked, peeking my head in the door.
Jonah looked awkward but nodded. He knew he wouldn’t be able to escape and instead followed me into the hall. Knowing that his patient and their family would be able to see us through the window, I kept my face neutral, even though panic was bubbling inside of me.
“Where’s Adrian?” I asked calmly.
“He’s not here,” Jonah said, and I sighed.
“I know he’s not here, Jonah, but is he, um, has he transferred to Dartmouth-Hitchcock?”
I tried to keep the hysteria out of my voice. I really did.
Jonah’s face said it all.
“Why?” I asked simply, my voice cracking.
“I think you need to ask your father that question,” Jonah replied, “and I really am sorry about everything that’s happened to the two of you. I need to get back to my patient.”
I nodded and he disappeared back into his patient’s room.
My head was spinning. I needed the truth, I needed to speak to my father, and I needed to see Adrian. There was a whole lot I needed, but the majority of it was in New Hampshire.
Chapter Nineteen
Adrian
Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center was nice enough, but I wasn’t sure if I’d ever love it like I’d loved Mass General.
I’d dreamed of working at Mass General since I’d first realized I wanted to go into the medical field—even though Dr. Aaron Christophers, who I held responsible for my mother’s death, was Chief of Surgery there. It was one of the top hospitals in the country, and I felt that I had a connection to the place. I wouldn’t let him ruin that for me. I had no connection at all to this new hospital. I knew I’d make friends, and eventually I’d stop getting lost in the confusing, compass-like layout of the hospital. Three times I wound up in the Sterile Processing Department while looking for the labs, and the IV team was getting tired of giving me directions out of the basement.
It was all about appearances though. I kept a smile on my face and answered questions with confidence. I didn’t know any of my patients yet and was taking over from a beloved man named Dr. Cole. It was clear that no one trusted me because of my age and lack of seniority at the hospital, and it was strange to say the least. One day, when I was off of clinic service and had no patients to round on, I headed over to the affiliated children’s hospital.
I spent the day discussing Jasmine’s case with doctors that I needed to trust her health with, all without knowing anything about them beyond the papers on their walls. They all spoke about her with the same awe and curiosity I had when I’d first met her, but now it just annoyed me. She wasn’t a case study, she wasn’t just the youngest recipient of a robotic heart in the United States, she was a young girl, and she needed help staying healthy. I bit my tongue though, and we devised a care plan that would work for everyone, including Jasmine and Kayla. All in all, it wasn’t a bad first week, just a stressful one.
I found that what I was missing most was Stevie.
While working at the hospital, she had been a source of constant entertainment, from the way she responded when I picked on her, to her dedication to her patients, to the absolutely, maddeningly sexy way she’d looked bent over my desk. When she had been in her coma, I had spent every day with her and never had the chance to miss her physical presence. Her months of recovery had been a bonding time as well, where we’d seen each other almost every day, and I’d been witness to the ups and downs that came along with the painful healing from such an intense injury. I had waited all that time, and she had never given me any indication of reciprocating my feelings.
I was well aware of what she had said before her accident, but I also knew how injury could change everything. It wouldn’t have been fair of me to put the expectation of love on her when she was so focused on getting better, on getting back to work, on getting back to being herself. All I could do was be there every step of the way. Even the nights when she’d fallen apart and said she couldn’t do it anymore, that being broken was too much to handle, I had restrained myself. How could I tell her I’d always be there for her when I knew I was moving away.
The most I could hope for was that we’d stay friends. I had left my job at Mass General, even without being in a relationship with Stevie because I knew that things would never be the same. I’d never been able to respect Aaron Christophers, but even more, I’d also now never be able to work alongside his daughter as nothing more than friends. It would be too much for me, and so I’d taken the offer of a job at Dartmouth-Hitchcock.
“Dr. Price?” an LNA asked, poking her head into my empty room.
It was late on a Friday, and I was waiting for my last three patients before heading home for the weekend.
“Yes?” I returned.
