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“Not a sports journalist, but she’s given me a rundown on everything to watch out for.” I looked at her phone sitting beside her. “Told me to watch out for chicks and their phones. Recording dirt to sell to the tabloids.”
She placed a hand on her chest. “Oh.” She blinked. “You don’t think…”
I laughed and kissed her cheek. “The most you could say is that my dick is bomb and I’m a decent dude.” I shrugged. “Don’t think that’s too damaging.”
“What if…”
I narrowed my eyes. “What if what?”
“What if someone links you to me and the canceled wedding and somehow blames you?”
I stretched my eyes and looked ahead at her TV. An ad for pizza making my stomach growl. “I mean, they’d find out how bad a dude he is. Think they’d applaud me for stepping in.”
She plucked my shirt and said, “Confident, I see.”
“Like I said, dude is trash. He’s the last person I’m worried about.” I pointed to her phone. “And I doubt you are one of those chicks to worry about either.”
She smirked. “I wouldn’t be able to find the space in my brain to think up a story.”
“How about we ease that.” I watched her shift on the couch. “I mean, by watching this show till you fall asleep.” I laughed. “Let yourself relax.” I placed my hands on her shoulders and said, “This is what you can’t get over text message or a phone call.”
She eased her back into my chest. “Ehm,” she moaned. “You’re right.”
Now my dick was rock hard. But I wasn’t going back on my word. I was there to ease her stress, even if that meant not wrapping up in the warmth between her legs.
ChapterEleven
Gianna
The office was different. It was sterile, the smell of disinfectant and clove oil persisted. The hygienist still bubbly and excited to be digging in the teeth of the patients. As I made it from the front desk to my office, I realized the only thing different was me.
I was officially single. There wasn’t a carat diamond ring on my left hand. So, it was lighter as I typed. There wasn’t a complaint of wedding planning that existed for months before the breakup. As the ladies stopped in and asked how things were going, I didn’t need to tell them of all the things left to do.
I adjusted my white coat and sighed.
“Dr. Hayes…” That was different too. On this day, if everything went as planned, I would have transitioned to my new name,Dr. Victors.“Your patient is ready.”
Standing from my desk, I prepared for the woman seated in the chair. A woman I’d seen a few times in the office, and each time she asked about me and Shawn. That was after trying to hook me up with herhandsome nephew.When I told her about Shawn, her excitement matched her enthusiasm for me to meet her nephew. Overjoyed, even if it wasn’t her family I’d be joining.
“Ms. Nichols,” I said with a wide smile. I sat beside her and adjusted the light. “How are you?”
She didn’t have the suction tube hanging yet, so she was able to respond, “Never been better, baby.” She beamed, “But the real question is, how are you? How was the wedding? I want to know all about it.” She gushed. “And pictures. I have to see pictures.”
I knew it’d come. But it still stung. Telling the girls in the office I canceled the wedding a week before was tough. Revealing it to a patient, no easier.
The hygienist across from me stilled. I turned to grab the periodontal probe and stuck it into Ms. Nichols’s mouth. “Well,” I started, “it was an interesting day. Ended up picnicking in the desert, and riding ATVs. Unfortunately, I have no pictures to share.” That was the unfortunate thing. After the weekend I shared with Angelo, there were no visuals for me to flip through.
He shared his sister’s warning though. And no pictures of the two of us was best. I didn’t want to be on any end of a rumor and I didn’t want him caught up in a mess either.
Ms. Nichols tried to speak, but I continued poking her teeth. Instead, she was able to give me a serious side-eye. She blinked and scrunched her brows. Anyone trying to communicate in the chair always made me laugh. I had a grimace on my face as she tried her best to communicate, ‘What the fuck?’ Although that might have never come out of Ms. Nichols’s mouth. She seemed to be a sweet middle-aged woman who wouldn’t curse on the regular.
“Ms. Nichols,” I announced, “I canceled the wedding last week.”
She placed a hand on mine until the probe fell from her mouth. “Oh, Dr. Hayes, I’m so sorry.” Her mouth was still hanging open, but not because I was examining it. “I won’t ask what happened, but,” she huffed, “can I give you a hug?”
I nodded and leaned into her open arms. It wasn’t what I expected for her exam that morning, but it eased me into my new reality. When she was all done, I said, “See you in six months.”
Her face turned into a frown, but mine had a little smile on it. I had to be thankful for the win, however small it was. I wasn’t dying to curl back into a ball in my bedroom. Somehow, a week was all I needed to mourn the loss of my relationship. I walked through the halls of the office and knew, much of that had to do with a football-toting, special someone.
