Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Shut the hell up,” I said with a chuckle. “It’s the best way I can describe it. Wasn’t looking for anything. Didn’t even like her. And then…I liked her.”
“You didn’t like her?”
“When I started at the clinic, she was a physician there. Basically wanted my job and was pissed that the former director did an outside hire. Kinda took her job. Didn’t get along for a while.”
“A hot doctor. That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah, she’s really smart. Might be smarter than me.”
“You got a picture?”
I shook my head. “Actually, I don’t. But I wouldn’t show you anyway.”
“Oh, come on. I’m gonna see her when I meet her.”
“And you better not say something stupid.”
“Whoa, so I am going to meet her?”
I shrugged. “Probably.”
“So, this is a relationship, then.”
I shrugged again. “We’re exclusive.”
“Wow, that’s crazy. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve been heartless. And now here you are, pretty much settled down.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that.” I took another drink before I set the empty glass on the table. “My feelings about the future haven’t changed. But when it happened with her, I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t risk losing her, not when…” I tried to think of the words to describe it, but nothing suitable came to mind. “Not when I feel this way about her.”
Matthew dropped the jokes and cradled his drink to his chest. “If that’s the case, you’re going to have to tell her.”
I dropped my gaze. “Yeah…I know.” It’d been on my mind a lot recently because I knew this relationship was serious the moment I kissed her, the moment we were together. Wasn’t a fling. Wasn’t a mistake. It was the real deal. “I will. I’ve just…been putting it off as long as I can.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what she’ll say.”
I checked her vitals, her airway, and her lab work.
She was only in her forties, but she’d been inexplicably hit with an aggressive cancer.
Cancer fucking sucked.
Sometimes it was limited, like it somehow broke through a barrier and wound up in a place where it shouldn’t be. With appropriate treatment, it was returned to where it belonged, as a healthy cell. But when this happened…it was like a serial killer. It wasn’t going to stop until it claimed the body.
She stared at me as I listened to her lungs, her face gray like she was thirty years older than her true age.
I pulled the stethoscope out of my ears and stepped back. “I’m not seeing a change yet.”
“I don’t feel a change either.”
“It’s still early. Give it time.” It was hard to stand there and give hope, especially when I had no idea what would happen.
Her eyes dropped. “You hear about these things happening to other people, but you never think it’s going to happen to you.” She had three young children, but she didn’t want them to visit her in the hospital, so they never came. Her husband came by from time to time, but he had to work longer hours to make up for her loss of income.
I had other patients to monitor, but I sat on the stool at her bedside. “Yeah, I know how that is.”
“You do?”
I nodded. “My parents and sister came from London to visit me a few years ago. Took the subway into Manhattan…and all died in a mass shooting.”
Stunned, she just stared, like she didn’t know what else to do.
“Never thought that would happen to me. If I’d just left work and picked them up…they’d still be here. I think about that a lot, pretty much every night before I go to sleep.”
Her hand reached for mine. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Beaumont.”
I gave a slight smile and squeezed her hand, floored that she comforted me when she was the one fighting for her life. “Thank you.”
Dr. Hamilton sat at his station on the floor, in his blue scrubs, his lunch in containers next to him. His charts were stacked beside him, and he made his notes in the computer system.
I walked over and took the computer next to him, setting down my charts.
Dr. Hamilton finished what he was doing before he addressed me. “No significant changes.”
“Same.”
He must have recognized the tone in my voice because he turned to look at me.
I answered his unspoken question. “Just a hard day.”
“It’s early, Atlas. I’m confident we will see results. I just hope we see results in all our patients instead of a few.”
“Yeah.”
Just the way my father used to, he reached his hand up and gripped my shoulder, giving me a squeeze before he turned back to his computer. “It’s a hard job…but someone’s gotta do it.”
“I can’t believe you’ve been doing this so long.”
He typed on the computer again, doing two things at once. “I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life. There are days it hurts. And there are days it hurts more. But people come from all over the world to see me because I provide the best care possible. It gives me a purpose, gives my life meaning beyond myself and my family.”