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"Billionaire joke?" she chuckled, as she got out of the bed. "I have to go now."
"I have nothing to do after this," I said. "I want you to have dinner with me."
Her shoulders dropped. I couldn't miss her eyes diverting, like she had just stepped into the most awkward situation ever.
"That's nice but…" she started to say, seeking the right words to convince me.
"Is there a problem?" I asked, although I came to wish I never did.
"Well, Ian. I'll be honest," she replied.
Here it comes.
"I know I came here interested in you, but…" She looked away and rubbed her arm.
"You wanted Ethan," I completed her statement.
"Oh uh, it's not really like that, but basically yeah," she defended. "It's just he was away, and I thought… you know, being twins and all. I thought there'd be some similarities between you two. I could understand what goes through his mind, but you're really nothing like him at all."
I looked away and walked over to my desk; as I took my seat, I couldn't help wondering where I had gone wrong.
Do I really just suck at this?
"What do you mean exactly?" I asked without even looking at her.
"I don't know… you're awfully quiet, so it's hard to tell if you're really into someone. And you can be a little brutal if you want to. There's really nothing wrong with that," she replied. "It's just that Ethan gives off an energy such that it's easy to know what he's thinking. It makes me want to protect him or at least help him out. But you…I don't know. It's hard to really know you. It's like you're a different person to everyone. I don't think we know how to pick up on that."
"That was good feedback," I replied with a smile. "Thank you."
"I don't mean to hurt your feelings," she said, still panicking after her outburst.
"I'm not hurt," I assured her. "Everyone has the right to like what they want to like. If I'm not what they prefer, I either improve or move aside."
"Oh thank goodness," she let out a sigh of relief. "I was really worried that you hate me now. I can still come for my medicals, right?"
"Right," I replied. "Why would I chase away a high paying patient?"
"At least your desire for wealth is completely visible," she replied.
As she left, I was abandoned with my thoughts and the sudden weight of my loneliness. Walking around to inspect my prized achievement, that being my hospital, I thought of various ways of getting my mind away off the fact that I had just been turned down…politely. But the universe seemed to have other ideas about what I could think about.
Walking through the semi-crowded halls, the chatter of nurses, patients and their loved ones, could be heard without trouble. The smell of medicine tablets, methylated spirits and so on, greeted my nostrils. I welcomed some patients and tried to make them comfortable. Some were expectant fathers, with wives in labor. Others were wives, with husbands having major surgery. Some were children waiting for the results of their aged parents. I even walked into a room and noticed a patient fast asleep.
He seemed to be around my age with the same blonde hair. I recalled him as the patient I had attended to the previous night. He had had surgery where everything that could went wrong, and I corrected it. The dark-haired woman by his bedside, holding his right hand in both of hers, was someone I hadn't met before.
Her eyes as she looked at him while he slept were the kind I was used to seeing – laden with hope, admiration and the desire to continue being with someone. Olivia had looked at Ben with those eyes as well. My mother made sure that Father had his daily dose of them as well. In some cases, I had seen Ethan's lovers look at him with similar eyes.
The closest I had ever gotten to receiving such a glance was when they'd mistake me for him. I leaned against the door frame and watched her kiss his hands repeatedly, again and again. A pang of jealousy tugged at my heart. It wasn't fair. How come everyone easily got what they wanted and then there was me – someone who couldn't get at least one.
She turned to look at me and smiled. "You must be Dr. Sullivan. Thank you for saving my fiancé."
"It wasn't all me; I also had the staff helping me. And your fiancé did the most of the work being able to hang in there for this long," I said.
"But still…" she said as she turned to look at him, stroking his hair lovingly and gently. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't here anymore."
I had heard that phrase over and over by the relatives of the many patients I had saved. I wondered whether I would ever have someone who would worry about me if I weren't here anymore.
"You're a good person, Dr. Sullivan," she complimented me.
