Chapter 34

Chance

Later that evening, I step into the warmth of Kent and Amelia Johns's condo, a welcome reprieve from the rain and the cool breeze that skims off False Creek. Earlier today, I had hoped Lucy might come with me, but at least, this gives me somewhere to be this evening. Ginny was ready for me to storm the castle and charge right back over to Lucy's. But I need a minute to think through this. I want to have an answer for Lucy that will put her at ease, make her understand. And I don't know what that is yet.

The scent of rosemary and garlic greets me as Amelia ushers me into the dining room where Griffin and Tori Martin are already seated, beers in hand, chatting. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights sparkle against the oncoming dusk, framing Science World in a halo of urban twilight.

"Smells amazing, Amelia," I compliment, and she beams with pride.

"Hope you're hungry," Kent says, handing me a cold beer.

"Starved," I reply, my stomach seconding the statement with a well-timed growl.

After a few minutes, we move to the dining room and gather around the table, the clinking of cutlery a prelude to the feast. As expected, based on the scent, Amelia has outdone herself with Tuscan chicken, its creamy goodness perfect for a cold evening. Conversation flows freely, punctuated by laughter and the occasional toast.

As the meal winds down, Tori bumps my shoulder with hers. "How's Lucy doing?" she asks. "I thought she might be with you this evening."

I sigh and put down my fork, buying time to gather my thoughts. "Things have gone a bit off the rails," I summarize. I haven't done the best job keeping everyone up to date. "Céline, my ex-girlfriend, showed up here unexpectedly a couple weeks ago," I explain. "That was a whole mess, but it ended up being helpful, because it allowed me to close that chapter once and for all. I explained this to Lucy, and I thought she understood, but then after we got together a couple times, today she told me she thought we'd only ever be friends."

I pause, collecting the shards of that conversation with Lucy in the coffee shop. She walked away and never looked back. How can I put into words that she blew me completely out of the water? "She said something that really hit me, and she's so insightful, it kind of threw me for a loop. It made me doubt my own motivations for a bit, if I'm honest."

"What did she say?" Tori asks.

"Well, my mom is always saying, 'You could do better.' She's used that as an encouragement to me my whole life about everything—school, sports, personal goals… And Lucy thinks I must apply it in relationships as well. She's worried that eventually I'll decide I could do better than her. She doesn't want to risk her heart on that chance. "

"Do you think that could happen?" Griffin asks.

"When she first said it, I had a bit of a panic, and I had to assess how I've made decisions in the past. But I didn't leave Céline because I thought I could do better." I stop myself. "Well, I suppose at the end of any relationship you always hope the next one will be better—a better match, a better fit." My thoughts swirl, but I know my heart is true, my choices valid. "I didn't cast aside something perfectly good for the next new, shiny thing. Céline and I had not been happy in a long time. Our relationship wasn't healthy, but I was tangled up in it. I stayed with her longer than I should have, but I came to Vancouver by myself after she changed her mind about joining me because I knew that was the right choice for me and what I needed to do. It had nothing to do with trading up, the way Lucy seems to think it does. I don't apply that mantra to any parts of my life in a shallow way, especially not relationships. I'm certain of that. But I don't know how to convince Lucy if she's latched on to that fear. I think it would just take time, and she's not willing to give me that. It makes her feel too vulnerable."

I push my plate aside, no longer able to stomach even Amelia's delicious meal. How did I get myself into this?

"Chance, how do you feel about Lucy?" Amelia asks, her voice cutting through the background noise. "Have you explained all this to her?"

"I tried, but she really threw me, and then she scooted out of there. And with the way she left things, I don't know how to—"

Griffin chuckles from across the table. "If you ask me, it sounds like you're in love with Lucy."

I rub the back of my neck. "I think you're right. I know I want to be with her, to see where things can go..."

They exchange knowing looks, their collective scoff sending a clear message. "You need to figure that out, buddy," Kent says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know how to get her to take a chance. If we could get back to dating, spending time together…" I trail off, unsure.

Their faces soften, empathy and encouragement mingling in their expressions. I'm a swirl of hope and doubt, but I know I want to try.

"I sent apples to her at school last week. That's what got us talking again, and we went to dinner last Saturday. But then today, things fell apart." I pause. "The kids loved the apples, though." I can't help the small smile that creeps onto my lips as I remember their joy. "I went by the school today and saw so many of them. They remembered me from when I'd visited before. I taught them about their hearts and took a bunch of old stethoscopes for them. Most of those kids are immigrants, their families are struggling. Getting to play doctor for a day, it meant something." I sit forward in my chair. "Those kids mean something to Lucy too. Maybe they're a way to show her I'm not going to find anything better than her."

"Chance, that's wonderful!" Tori says.

I'm not sure if she means my idea or that I just admitted Lucy is the best there is. But I did just admit it.

"What if we got a bunch of school supplies for the class?" Tori's suggestion sends a ripple of enthusiasm around the table.

Amelia's already nodding, pulling out her phone to jot notes. "We could get dry erase markers, pencils, regular markers…" She trails off, looking to me for more input.

"Glue sticks," I offer. "Fancy papers, watercolor paint packs…"

"Exactly!" Tori claps her hands together. "Let's make it a proper haul for them."

"Let's look online," Amelia suggests. "That will make it easy."

Within moments, both she and Tori are scrolling virtual shopping aisles, picking out colorful supplies.

"Wow, you guys don't mess around," I note.

"Neither should you." Tori gives me a pointed look. " When it comes to Lucy or these kids."

"Right." I nod. She's saying more than just "buy school supplies," and I know she's right. Words aren't enough for Lucy. I need to show her she's important to me and I'm not just going away.

Two days later, there's a knock on my office door, and I find a pile of boxes waiting outside, an avalanche of school supplies courtesy of Amelia and Tori's enthusiastic online shopping spree. They've outdone themselves—stacks of dry erase markers, pencils, glue sticks, and watercolors in every hue imaginable. I smile at their generosity, knowing these supplies will spark joy. And hopefully, they'll pave a path back to Lucy.

Lost in thought and in piles of paperwork, when it's time, I make my way to the hospital cafeteria for lunch. That's when I spot it, the ice cream freezer, filled to the brim with an array of flavors. It's perfect . I picture the smiles, the laughter, the sticky fingers. It's more than just a treat. It's an olive branch, a way to show Lucy I care about her world, about the things and people important to her.

"Could you set aside some individual servings of ice cream for me to pick up tomorrow?" I ask the manager. "It's for an elementary class."

"Of course, Dr. Devereaux," she replies. "Haagen Dazs offers several flavors in the single-serving size, and they come with their own spoons."

"That would be great. Do you have about thirty?"

She nods. "Yep. Not a problem. It will be mostly chocolate and vanilla."

"That works."

As I head back to the ED to check in on the shift, a strategy forms in my mind. The kids are going to help me win Lucy over, whether they know it or not. With a car full of color and a cooler of ice cream, I'll bridge the gap between friendship and something more, show her I'm not just biding time until the next thing comes along. These thoughts buoy me through the rest of my shift, and then back at home that evening, I sprawl across my couch. My thumb hovers over the keyboard on my phone, hesitating just a moment before tapping out the words to Lucy that have been circling my mind since dinner last night.

Me: Sweet dreams.

A smile curves the corners of my lips as I imagine her reading the message, perhaps with a hint of a smile on her own face. The text is simple—no hidden agenda, just a heartfelt wish from someone who's come to care more than I ever expected to.

I hit send, feeling a pulse of anticipation. Tomorrow isn't just another day; it's a chance to step deliberately into her world, to be a part of something that brings her joy, to prove that's where I want to be.

I set the phone down and lean back. The cushions cradle me, but I'm too wired to sleep, too filled with the energy of possibility. I close my eyes, letting the excitement wash over me. This has to work. It has to be a start. It just has to.