19. The Death of Me

19

The Death of Me

Brighton

Monday, May 22 nd

9:39 a.m.

The hardest pill I've ever had to swallow was learning that this doesn't get easier the more I deal with it. The shock turns into denial. Denial into anger. Anger into bargaining, and so on.

I could stand behind this curtain for hours listening, but my other patients wouldn't appreciate it.

"I think you should ask her."

My heart trips over itself. Who are they talking about? Me? How did I lose track of their conversation?

"Not happening." A minuscule chuckle follows Dax's gruff voice.

"Why not? If you don't ask, we'll never know. And this is something we need to know," Liam says.

"Then you ask."

"I don't think that would go over well."

I imagine Liam shaking his head as he tries to wrestle with his inner turmoil.

My ears tune in, trying to rewind to the last part of their conversation I remember. Something about hating needles. The memory gets me nowhere.

"You want something?" There's a groan and an audible yawn accompanied by the sound of a chair scooting along the floor before footsteps.

Oh shit. I turn on my heel, looking for a quick escape.

Someone pulls back the curtain around Liam's treatment area, and I'm caught with my mouth open and eyes bulging.

"Dr. Fields?"

I pinch my eyes closed, wishing I could disappear. I pry one open. Then the next.

Nope. Still here. He's still here. I'm still here.

This is awkward.

So, I pretend the brief exchange didn't happen and offer a self-deprecating chuckle. "Dax." I gaze around him, and my eyes meet Liam's. "How are you feeling?"

Liam gives me two thumbs up before he slurps on his sucker and pulls it from his mouth. I'll have to remember to thank Lauren for thinking ahead so he won't get such an awful cotton mouth. "Day one isn't as bad as I was expecting."

"That's great." A smile tugs at my lips. I slip past Dax, who stays frozen with one hand on the curtain, his body facing the main floor. He doesn't turn his head, but I can see he's staring at me out of the corner of his eye.

"This is supposed to be a little over an hour, right? That's what Lauren said . . ." Liam cuts off mid-sentence. He sits up straighter in his reclined seat and rubs his palms along the front of his jeans.

"Give or take, today will probably be a little longer with setup and making sure everything's working properly. How did port placement go?"

Liam tenses as I approach and examine the port on the right side of his chest. I drag my fingertips over the placement to make sure the IV is secure and see him flinch in my periphery.

"Do you have questions for me?"

Liam's eyes dart to Dax. I gaze up and watch as Dax turns and clears his throat. The silent argument the two of them are having errs on the side of endearing, if not at least comical.

"Dax has something he wants to ask you," Liam says, clenching his jaw as his eyes grow.

My shoulders straighten, and I pull Liam's chart to my chest as I lean against the counter behind me. "Of course, any questions you have, that's what I'm here for."

Dax massages a hand over the back of his neck, averting his gaze. "I was going to grab him some ice chips and stretch my legs. Care to join me?"

Liam slumps against the back of the chair with an impatient snort and groan of frustration. "Seriously?"

"We'll be back." I gaze between the two of them, confused about Dax's need to talk to me alone, but I understand. I'm not sure what he wants to discuss, but I can appreciate his desire to be discreet about it, especially after how he reacted at the first appointment. I pat Liam's hand.

"What the heck, Dax? Come on."

Dax draws in a long breath and releases it before speaking. "You did this to yourself."

"Just do it here."

Their back and forth has me confused. "Do what?"

I swear I can feel Dax roll his eyes. He readjusts his hold of the curtain and motions for me to join him. For a second, I hesitate. He gives me what I'm sure he thinks is a reassuring smile, but something feels off.

"Is everything okay?"

"It's fine." Dax's words are curt but reserved. "Are you coming?"

The look I get leaves me with no choice. He yanks the curtain closed behind us as we leave the treatment area to complaints from Liam that fade as we venture further away from him and toward the elevators.

Dax stalks away from me with a heavy sigh.

"What's going on?" I almost have to jog to keep up.

He tenses as he jams his finger into the down button for the elevator and pulls his ball cap from his head. He doesn't turn to face me when he says, "Liam's concerned."

I lean against the wall beside him, searching his face, but he keeps his eyes focused on the silver doors in front of him. "About?" I try to urge him to continue, but he remains silent as the doors glide open, and I follow him on.

He returns his hat to his head after pushing the button for the first floor and leans against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him. "The malpractice."

I blink as realization smacks me in the face. "Oh."

He tilts his head and studies my expression. "I can't believe he put me on the spot like that," he grumbles and shifts his position. "Liam's the one who wants to know."

"That's understandable." My shrug isn't exactly nonchalant.

His throat works as he swallows, and I catch his look, complete with raised eyebrows. "Are you okay?"

I swat a loose tendril of hair from my face. "In what sense?"

"I'm sure it's been crazy around here with everything going on. You don't seem like the type of person who likes the spotlight."

A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. I assumed one of my patients would have the nerve to bring up what's been going on in the news, but honestly didn't think it would be one of the brothers. "As good as expected, I guess."

The lit-up four above the door dings as it switches to the three. We wait a couple of seconds in silence. And the circle with the two lights up. The doors open, and we find a couple of nurses talking on the second-floor landing. They shoo us away, and the doors close without anyone entering.

"Is it true?" He squeezes his eyes shut. A deep breath later, he opens them. And our gaze meets.

My entire body tenses. "I'm under investigation." I hold his stare long enough that he knows I mean what I say.

His head tilts to the side, and he pauses. The doors open to the first floor, and a couple of people enter before we get off.

"For what?" he asks as we start toward the cafeteria.

"Do you want the details?"

When I glance over my shoulder, he pulls his shoulders to his ears. "Liam's concerned he may have to change doctors."

My brow crinkles, and I press my lips into a tight line. There's no fucking way. "Because of the lawsuit? I'm named as a witness in it. I'm being deposed for evidence and information. My name is being cleared." Saying the words out loud for the first time is a relief I didn't know I needed.

Toward the end of our meeting, Luca explained that the evidence proved my innocence in the malpractice case and that the accusation was wrong, which is why I'll get a subpoena as a witness.

"That's a relief." His shoulders droop. The flash of a smile he tries to hide hits me somewhere in the pit of my stomach. "I told Liam it was nothing."

I grab the door handle to the cafeteria and usher him inside. "I'd hate to lose Liam as a patient."

"I don't think he meant it. He was freaking out because it could have been a big deal. We saw the news about that doctor getting murdered, and he was worried it could have been y—" He arches a brow, stopping mid-sentence.

My stomach twists. It's all I can do not to let my emotions spread across my face. His heart lurches with pangs of sympathy reflected in his eyes.

Dax holds out a hand, and his eyes widen as if he senses he shouldn't touch me before narrowing into curious slits. "Do you need to sit down?" He doesn't wait for an answer as he guides me to a booth, and I sit. "I didn't mean to . . . are you okay?" he asks, his voice breaking on the last word.

I pivot to face him. "I'm fine. Just shocked, I guess."

"I can't imagine what you're going through with the lawsuit and the . . . you know. I figured you'd take some time off or something." He laughs, the restrained sound echoing off the walls.

My attention turns to his hand. He holds it out toward me to bring me to my feet. My eyes water, and I force out a grimace of a smile as I take it. "Thank you."

Once I stand, he pulls his hand from mine, and I stare at the space, letting the cold absence of his hand seep into my palm.

"I should probably get back." Dax points over his shoulder toward the exit as he backs away.

"Are you going to tell Liam? Let him know he's not at risk and doesn't need to transfer?" The question leaves my mouth before I can catch it.

His mouth curves into a smile as I approach. "I think he knew it all along." He reaches a hand toward my cheek.

It's all I can do to stay out of his reach. My breath stutters. The bitter taste of worry floods my mouth. I can't let my guard down. Things need to stay professional between us.

I won't let Kline be right. Not about me. Not about this.

A step out of his reach earns me a scowl. "How are you two doing?" It's not a good move—getting invested in their lives—but there's a draw to them I can't explain. Cancer makes people accept the fear of death and the inevitable. And fear is based on assumption. I don't want them assuming the worst.

"Liam acts like everything's fine."

"He's going to get pretty sick after this week. Don't let him give up." I make my way toward the ice machine, and Dax purses his lips while he watches me fill the cup.

He grins and pushes his shoulder into the door as I offer him the ice chips. "Didn't plan on it."