Chapter 10

Lainey

“Any guesses what I’m looking at right now?” Dr. Reese asked, clicking the slides to a close-up image of a heart. Since he’d taken the stage, the room had been silent. Now, hands shot into the air. “It’s interactive, people. No hands. Shout it out.”

And so we began. Over the course of the hour, he came alive as he led the room through a rare case, making us collaborate on the disease, possible comorbidities, and treatment options. His smile was nearly blinding. When he didn’t get a correct answer, he skillfully redirected the crowd, coaxing us to the right conclusion. People started teaming up, competing to see who could answer his questions fastest. Me, Blake, and a few of the Mercy folks I’d sat with ended up giving the people around us a run for their money.

Though there was no discernible demographic of the room, younger residents and attendings, like me, crowded towards the front while older professionals watched from the back or shouted out from their seats.

It was unlike any presentation I’d ever seen before. By the end, when he walked us through the patient’s real diagnosis and treatment (we’d gotten pretty darn close), there was a feeling of camaraderie in the air, fresh and energizing, and I wasn’t the only one who thought so.

I lingered by a coffee cart as people lined up to talk with Sam when the session was over. Crowd members stuck around instead of rushing over to the lunch buffet. All of it was as remarkable as it was embarrassing.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I’d compared this man to oatmeal, for God’s sake. Now here he was, leading one of the hottest sessions at the biggest cardiac conference on the East Coast, and side-hustling as a personal trainer when he wasn’t hanging out with his BFF, who owned the hottest coffee shop in the city?

I’d been a freaking idiot—blind idiot, at that—and now, all I wanted was a little more of his time. Me and the rest of the room.

“Lainey.”

I jerked, water spilling from the cup in my hand when I seized up at the familiar voice. I’d been trying to rig up an iced tea situation with a bottle of water and a crumpled tea bag. Katie gave me an apologetic wince. I nearly growled, but I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d gotten a rise out of me.

I stepped around her, trying to escape.

“Wait! No, please, I need to talk to you. Just…just two minutes, please.” She grabbed at my arm, but I yanked it back. Her pleas drew the attention of a few people around us. My heart pounded in my throat as I looked around, considering what to do. Part of me was screaming for me to turn and walk away. But I couldn’t risk any public attention with Katie. I’d done my best to keep it all quiet, but cardiothoracic surgery was a small specialty. I wouldn’t be surprised to find a few UT grads in the room today, if I looked hard enough.

I nodded towards the door, motioning for her to follow me out into the hall. We wandered for a few feet until I found a quiet alcove tucked away from the prying eyes of the conference attendees. I didn’t know what the heck this was about, but I didn’t care for any witnesses to the conversation. Especially if I gave into my baser instincts and strangled her on the spot.

“What?” She flinched as I spat out the word.

“Did you read my email?” she whispered, rubbing her hands nervously across her belly. Pregnant. She was freaking pregnant. The sight had nearly made me pass out yesterday. Looking at her now still incited a queasy feeling in my stomach.

“Obviously not.”

She slumped. “I specifically put in the subject line—”

“And I specifically deleted it as soon as your name darkened my inbox, Doctor McDaniels. What are you even doing here? You’re an OB, not a cardiologist.”

A flash of something crossed her face, maybe pain or grief. In a blink, it was gone. “I accepted a position here. And I had time between jobs, so I came with Nathan.”

A whining screech filled my ears. The world shivered slightly, like a mirage. “You…What did you just say?”

“I got a job here. In Cedar’s OB department.” She gulped when I didn’t respond. My mouth had dried up. Maybe my brain had, too. “They got a massive research grant for pediatric neuro...”

“Yeah.” I remembered hearing about the grant—the one funding research for Katie’s specialty—and then immediately dismissing it as something totally unrelated to me. Because surely this woman wasn’t sadistic enough to accept a job at my hospital. Absolutely not.

“Well, my advisor back at Texas is in charge of the research team, and she called me. It all happened so fast. It’s such a great opportunity.”

“But you work at Presbyterian. Both of you.” I waved my hands towards the windows flanking the hallway, somewhat sure that the direction faced south, where their existence had continued while I’d holed myself up in this city. Now my walls were getting breached.

“He put in his application for an attending spot here.” Katie wrung her hands, shifting her weight from foot to foot like she needed to pee. But she was just nervous. I hated how I knew that.

“You know he’s always wanted Cedar. And when this opportunity came up, I couldn’t let it pass. It was too perfect.”

“Perfect,” I repeated. I wanted to puke.

“Lainey, I promise you, I never thought we’d end up here. But when the attending interviews opened up right after I got my offer…There’s a new OB director at Presbyterian and it’s been really hard lately—”

“Oh, my God. It’s been hard for you? Well, gee, Katie, why didn’t you just say so? Was it so hard in your hometown? With your friends? In your house with your husband? Working at your first-choice hospital? Was it just so fucking hard for you?” I held my hand up when she opened her mouth. Rage shook my fingers. “No, please. Please tell me about it. What it’s like to get literally everything you ever wanted, and it still not be enough.”

I stared at the ceiling, shaking my head. If I looked at her for a single moment longer, I was going to lose it.

“I didn’t want it to go like this,” Katie whispered, swiping her fingertips under her eyes.

A bitter laugh cracked out of me. “How did you think this would go?”

“Listen, if you both get a job at Cedar, I know it might be uncomfortable to work with Nate after everything that…happened…”

“You think this is about Nate? Screw Nate. This is about you. You were my person, Katie. And you took everything from me.”

“You were my person, too,” she hiccuped, uneven.

“I wasn’t. I would have picked you every day of the week over him. And I loved him. So much. But I loved you more.” I slapped at the tickling underneath my eye. Must be a breeze in here, or something. “But you know what? It’s fine. We all ended up where we needed to. You loved him more, I guess. Good job. Have him, the condo, Presbyterian, all of it. But now, just as I’m getting my own freaking life together again, you want to come here and steal that, too? How did you think this would go, Katie? That I’d just say good luck, welcome to Chicago?”

“I-I’m so…so sorry,” she wheezed, tears filling her eyes. “You were my person. You were. And I couldn’t imagine life without you. So, when Nate and I…started falling for each other, I convinced myself…that you would be okay with it after a while. I know that sounds so stupid, but I thought we could be stronger than all that. And maybe I still think that now. It’s been so long, Lainey. And I miss you so much. I still miss you all the time.”

“You chose that. You made your decisions, and I am allowed to make mine.”

I recoiled as she reached her hands out. “I know that. You have no clue how much I know that. But…maybe after all this time…It’s been years, Lainey. I thought maybe if you’d found someone else, and had moved on a little, we could have a fresh start.”

“We can’t.”

“R-right. I understand. Of course.” Her head was spring-loaded, bobbing up and down. She ignored the tears running down her face. “Listen, I have no right to a-ask you this, but you’re a-already pissed. Do people here know about…what happened between you and Nate? Between all three of us?”

“How many years later and you still can’t say it, Katie? That you fucked my boyfriend for months right under my nose?”

She hiccuped, trying to control a sob rising in her chest. The movement jostled her top, highlighting her belly. Pregnant.

“Y-yes. That we cheated, and that’s the reason you left your spot at Presbyterian. How many people know besides Dr. Reese?” She sniffed, swiping her wrist across her cheekbone.

“He doesn’t know. No one knows. I left Texas back in Texas.” Where it belonged.

“You weren’t there last night. Reese was so cold to Nathan. Now he’s terrified he’ll never get a chance at Cedar because everyone knows what happened. We can’t commit to moving here if he doesn’t at least have a chance.”

My palm flew to my forehead. “Oh, God. How horrible! You mean he might actually have to face the consequences of his own actions? God forbid.” More tears leaked down her chin. “Well, don’t worry about it. No one knows. I don’t know why Reese was weird with you last night.” Maybe because you acted like a psycho and fled as soon as your ex and ex-best friend crashed the party? Yeah. Maybe.

“Really? Dr. Reese doesn’t know?”

“Yes, really. Nate will have a fair playing field, just like the rest of us.” I kicked at the carpet. Dr. Reese. I didn’t know whether to laugh or give into the prickling behind my eyes or claw her eyes out because I hated hearing her say his name. I hated that she even knew he existed to begin with.

“Thank you. Lainey, thank you so much. That’s…thank you.”

“I hate you.” Katie recoiled at the force of the words. Good. Maybe she’d back away all the freakin’ way to Texas. But I knew that wouldn’t happen, not when she’d already accepted the position here. “I hate you for doing this to me again,” I hissed, staring up at the ceiling once more, this time to keep the traitorous tears from sliding down. “What am I supposed to do now? Where am I supposed to go again? Are you going to chase me around the country or something? Just pick up and move and ruin my life every few years?”

“Lainey, I’m so sorry. Of course not, it was never our intention—”

“Lainey?”

Sam’s low timbre cut through the high-pitched frequency of my distress. Suddenly, I realized I was only partially obscured from my colleagues—those whom my mother needed to impress…those whom I needed to impress.

“You good?” Sam took another step into the little alcove that had become more like a fighting ring. I’d been taking punches since I walked in here.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” I didn’t know why I was apologizing. But one thing became crystal clear. “I need to get out of here.”

“I’ll drive.”

“Lainey!” Katie whispered after me. Her voice held universes—grief, hope, anger, despair, familiarity. I let Reese’s warm hand on my back lead me out of the hotel.