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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Simon
I slip my gloves off, throwing them in the trash as I head to the sink and scrub out of surgery. My patient’s case went well, and I’m thrilled. I glance down at my scrubs, making sure they still look clean before I have to go find Abigail’s parents and let them know how the procedure went.
I rub the soap everywhere along my hands, in between my fingers, and up my arms, making sure I get every nook and cranny before rinsing off underneath the water. The door opens, and I glance up to see Jarod standing there.
“Trouble?” he asks.
I raise one eyebrow. “Keeping tabs?”
“I’m worried about you,” he says.
I dry my hands. “The surgery went great. About forty-five minutes past what I’d estimated but no problems.”
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. But what about you?”
“What is this, gossip hour? I’m fine.” I reach around him to open the door and walk out, but he follows me.
“Haven’t seen you much,” he says, pausing, but I don’t answer him.
I’m back to my usual self.
“Sara thinks you need to talk about it.”
“Sara needs to mind her own business,” I snap and then swipe one hand over my face. “Fuck, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
We walk past the on-call room, and Jarod tilts his head toward it. We step inside, and he sighs.
“I don’t have to tell her everything you say.” His accompanying grin has me narrowing my eyes but ultimately smiling back at him.
“I appreciate it. Sara would rip me a new one if she heard. But I’m fine, really. It all worked out for the best.”
“Did it?”
“Don’t tell me you are some hopeless romantic,” I say, grumbling as I sit at the table. Thankfully, no one is in here to bear witness to this therapy session Jarod is trying to have with me.
“No, but I can tell that Alice made you different. A good different. And now, you are grumpy, lonely, and closed off again. Just wanting to make sure you made the right decision.”
“It wasn’t my decision to make. She’s the one who said no.”
“Did you push back at all? Did you tell her how you felt?”
“She knows how I feel … felt. Hell, I basically announced it on live TV.”
“For a smart person, you are pretty damn stupid,” Jarod says, shaking his head, and I stare at him.
“As pleasant as this little talk has been,” I say gruffly, “I’ve got to go talk to some parents about their child.” I get up and stride past him, not even bothering to say good-bye.
I’m sure he will tell Sara everything we said, and then I’ll get a phone call from her, which I’ll ignore, like every other one. I know they mean well, but I’m tired of being under a microscope when it comes to my relationship—or lack thereof.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am being stupid, but I put myself out there and got burned—for the second time. I don’t think I have it in me to go through it again even if the third time is the charm.
I stop off in my office to pick up Abigail’s file and make a few notes before heading to the conference room, where her parents have been moved to.
We sit at the table, and Mr. and Mrs. Delaney clasp their hands together on the tabletop.
“Abigail did beautifully,” I say.
