Chapter 33

Lainey

Perched on the edge of an uncomfortable pleather chair, sporting my white coat and a pencil skirt, I waited to be called in for my third and final interview at Cedar. My foot jiggled while I stared down at my phone. My thumb compulsively toggled back and forth between two message threads.

One from Blake this morning:

He’d attached a PDF of the official offer from Mercy. I didn’t have to click into it to visualize that big, fat salary and all the significant benefits they’d offered me.

I flipped back to the messages from Sam. I’d yet to respond to him, but the fact he kept sending them was a lifeline. However lost I was in my own feelings, topsy-turvy with the need to punch him and kiss him (perhaps simultaneously), his continued attempts to contact me felt steady. I liked seeing his name over and over on the screen. My call logs looked very similar.

I wanted to respond, to answer one of his calls. But what would I even say?

I’d been wracking my brain for the last few days and still didn’t know where to start. And time was running out. He was on the other side of that door, and the most I’d come up with so far was “hi.”

Down the hall, the elevator chimed and Nate McDaniels stepped out. As if this day wasn’t weird enough. He faltered when he saw me, but continued ambling forward, ending up uncomfortably close as he seated himself in the other chair in the waiting area. Only a small end table and a bright pink plastic orchid separated us. He cleared his throat.

This was the first time I’d gotten a good look at Nate since I’d left Texas. I’d only had a second to glance at him at the gala before I’d bolted. I wish I could say he was balding or pudgy or something, but he wasn’t. His curly brown hair was longer than it used to be, yet the style suited him. I wondered if it was Katie’s doing. He’d dressed like me for the occasion—white coat and business attire. He clutched a leather folio in his lap.

He cleared his throat again, and I realized I was staring at him. He, at least, was making an effort to ignore my existence, like a good cheating ex should.

“What time is your interview?”

His cheeks flushed at my question as he checked his watch. “Ten. I know I’m early but…wanted to make a good impression, you know?”

My interview was at nine, which meant he was over an hour early. I blinked down at my phone. Well, that blew past a good impression and straight into desperate territory, if you asked me. Then again, now that I thought about it, his extreme punctuality had always irked me when we’d been together. The man had no concept of flexibility or being fashionably late.

Katie had been that way, too, come to think of it. I couldn’t count how many dinners or study sessions I’d shown up to on time, only to find both of them had already settled in, drinks in hand. Something about the recollection shamed me. Maybe they really had found each other. Those little idiosyncrasies meant a lot in a relationship.

Like, I loved how Sam had a passion for working out but also enjoyed a good cocktail and over-ordered Mexican takeout. I liked the way he was content to sit back and listen while I spoke with other people. From what I could recall, Nate had a frustrating habit of interrupting or cutting me off. Often.

Sam made me feel heard without making me feel like I was dominating the conversation. I liked how confident he was. I didn’t have to worry about him, even if he was quiet. He’d speak up if he had a problem.

Usually. I wish he’d spoken up before filing paperwork on my behalf.

And just like that, I oscillated more into the punching end of the spectrum than kissing.

A week of overthinking had brought me to the conclusion that he’d made the right move. I just wish I’d known about it. But if he’d told me while I was still on the fence about everything that he was submitting formal documentation of our relationship to my superiors, I’d have keeled over.

So…was I the problem? Him? I kept landing somewhere in the middle, and I didn’t know what to do with that.

“How did you know Katie was worth the risk?” My question echoed in the eerily quiet hall. Nate looked physically shaken, staring at me without speaking. “I mean, it didn’t seem like it at the time, but surely you had some concerns. Dumping Rebecca Carmichael’s daughter? The lease? We were working on that research paper together that was going to get published…What made you decide it would be worth it, even if everything fell apart for you?”

He stared—mouth wide and fishlike—for a second before clearing his throat (for the third time, what the heck did he have a cold or something?) and straightening his tie.

“I...I’m sorry if it seemed like I made the decision lightly. I didn’t…” He trailed off, staring at the blank wall in front of him. Thinking, or maybe just avoiding my eyes. I couldn’t even believe that I’d asked him, but it was suddenly imperative that I heard his answer. How did one know if risking their entire life was worth it for one person? Well, I was sitting next to someone who might have some insight into that.

“It just felt right.” He finally looked at me, apologetic. “I know that’s probably not the answer you want to hear, but she and I just…fit together. Everything was easy. It worked. You and I, we bickered, you know? And, I always felt like—oh.”

I flapped my hands at him, waving off what seemed to be devolving into some years-overdue “it wasn’t you, it was me” type speech. “I don’t care about that part. We weren’t right. You and Katie are. Fine. Whatever.” Flap, flap. I needed to get control of my wrists. “But what made you finally do it? Break everything off? Take the jump?”

“I, erm, well…” He coughed. Again. Jesus. “I’ve never loved someone the way I love Katie. Falling for her, it was like looking in my pocket and suddenly realizing there was a priceless diamond inside. She’d been right in front of me for so long, and I hadn’t even known it. Once I saw it—saw her— I couldn’t waste any more time.”

His words struck a chord so deep, so profound, that my brain somehow erupted in a cacophony while falling quiet at the same time. Maybe this is what people felt like after something exploded near them. The noise. The lack of it. The panic. The calm.

Once he saw her…

“Lainey? Are you okay?”

“I…don’t know.”

We stared at each other for a long moment, his head slowly nodding as he looked at me. “I hope you are.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. He looked at his folio. I looked back at my phone.

After a few moments, the door in front of us swung open. Jones sauntered out, still saying something about golfing to the people inside. I hadn’t given him much thought since he’d confessed the role he played in my exile. He’d done a crappy thing, but he wasn’t really to blame for how everything was going down. It wasn’t his fault his grandfather was evil. It was only his fault that he was a jealous little baby man, and I had no time for people like that in my life.

At this second, with him mere feet away from me, I still wasn’t thinking about him. Or care. Because there was Sam.

I shot to my feet when I saw him, his face achingly familiar. My heart jumped to see it. He looked tired, smudges under his eyes and a weary expression. His lips tipped in a strained, sterile attempt at a smile.

“Dr. Carmichael. Come in.”

Jones brushed past me, muttering something to me I didn’t catch. The longer I looked at Sam, the more the uproar in my head settled. The silence rose to become a single voice. Urging me forward. Toward him.

Through the open door, I could see Sturmond and the rest of the quality board sitting along one side of the conference table, waiting. A hysterical laugh burst out of my throat.

“Dr. Carmichael?” Sam cocked his head towards the conference room, cool and collected as always. Only now that I knew him, I could see the strain on his face and how hard he was working to mask it. He was hurting like I was.

His brow furrowed, a crack in his facade. I’d been standing there for too long, caught like a spider in a web of past and present and future.

I felt everything all at once. The ache in my chest—I missed him. The eyes on me—Nate, and Jones, and the Board. The numb, floating feeling as all the little pieces in my head settled into place with a final click.

“I can’t take this job. I’m in love with you.”

My declaration lost some of its impact because I was still laughing. I was certain I sounded hysterical. Maybe I was hysterical, but that didn’t change the truth: I was in love with Samuel Reese. I’d been in love with him for a long time. Perhaps all along. Maybe my heart had put on blinders with him because it knew that the minute I opened my eyes and truly saw him it would be all over for me.

Well, I saw him now. And it was all over.

“Lainey?” He reached for me, looking concerned. For good reason. He was watching the woman he loved throw her years-long dreams out the window. Poof. Gone. At least I thought—I hoped—I was the woman he loved.

“Say it back.”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “I’ve been in love with you for years. I don’t have anything to prove.” His head turned. One of the board members shifted closer. They all watched us, eagle-eyed, except Sturmond, who was chortling about something. “Listen, I appreciate the gesture, but let’s just get this interview over with, then we can talk—”

“It’s not a gesture. I’m in love with you. And I can’t work under a board that compromises clinical care and blackmails its staff.” I speared a pointed look at Sturmond, whose mouth popped open. Whispers erupted around the conference table. I ignored them, giving my attention to Sam. “I’m taking that job at Mercy.”

“Mercy?!” someone inside the room hissed. Sam must have seen the writing on the wall. He let the door close behind him.

“Just take a second to think about this.” He smoothed his hand over my hair before settling it low on my back. He nudged me down the hallway. The weight that had pressed me down for weeks was gone. I felt like I could move again; breathe again. I wanted to prance around and throw glitter.

“You’re right. We need to think about this. We’re going to make some changes. Your garage is full of workout equipment.”

“Obviously, your car takes priority over my weight rack.”

Together, we sidestepped Nate, who was still glued to his chair, and Jones, whose eyes were bugging out of his head. Maybe his mouth was hanging open, too. I wasn’t sure. My only concern was the quiet surgeon marching me down the hall.

“Lainey, I’m so sorry about—” he started, but I cut him off. We could do apologies later. I was tired of not being on the same page as him.

“And I want kids, but not right away.”

Sam flicked his eyes sideways at me, hesitating, before he gave a short nod. “I’ll give you three years. Or as soon as you get the Golden Heart. Whichever comes first.”

I laughed again, practically floating when he steered me around a corner to another hallway, less infested with my ex and smarmy fellows. I didn’t know which was crazier, talking about having Sam’s kids, doing it in front of my dreaded ex, or his casual, convicted belief that I could win one of the most prestigious awards in our specialty.

“I want two kids.”

A wince crossed his face as he slowed to a stop in the dead-end of the deserted hall. He looked almost apologetic when his hands skimmed down my arms. “I’m going to talk you up to three.”

I considered it for a moment. Nodded. “Fine, but I’m not giving up my career, and our kids won’t be raised by strangers, so we’re going to have to work that out.”

“Are you forgetting about Gammy June?”

“I love Gammy June.” I sighed. Grasped his shirt. “I’m taking that job at Mercy.”

“Sweetheart, I have an open offer at Mercy. If one of us needs to leave to save face, I’ll go. They’re giving Garcia the program director position. There’s nothing keeping me here.” His fingertips were rough against my jaw. Feeling him touch me again seemed to open up some floodgates I didn’t realize I’d been squeezing closed.

“No,” I choked out. Thumbs stroked my cheeks and there might have been tears there. I wasn’t sure and didn’t care. “Garcia’s not going to do crap. They’ll need you here more than ever, continuing to be the unofficial resident mom. I’ll go to Mercy and take all the cases Cedar is too paranoid to approve.”

Our foreheads were pressed together, and I loved everything about it. There was something comforting about pushing my face as close to his as I could get it. Almost as close as I could get, at least. I glanced down at his mouth.

“This is a big step. You sure about it?”

“Mercy’s offering me three days off a week,” I hummed, shifting closer. “It’s a dream.”

His mouth hooked to the side, deepening at one corner. I couldn’t believe I’d lived without seeing that look for a full week. It revived something inside me that had withered up.

“I meant us,” he whispered.

I took his face in my hands. His beard wasn’t as neatly trimmed as he usually kept it, and it rasped against my palms. “You’re my monster truck, Sam.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m—my mom told you the fucking monster truck story? God dammit.”

I laughed, rubbing my nose against his. I wanted to roll my whole body in him like catnip. “I love that story, Samuel Reese. And I love you. You’re the gift I never saw coming and most definitely don’t deserve. Even in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have imagined someone being as gentle and kind and patient with me as you have been, without asking for anything in return. Let me be your monster truck, too.”

He sighed my name, tilting my head closer, pressing his lips against mine in the most chaste kiss in the history of the world.

I gripped his hair, pulling him back an inch. “But you. Can. Not. Keep stuff from me again.” I punctuated each word with a kiss. He shook his head, tilting to get better access to my mouth.

“I swear. I’m sorry, Lainey. I’m so sorry. It’s been killing me.”

I sighed. “I think you did the right thing. I’m sorry I blew up at you.”

“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

I grinned, remembering a similar bargain we’d made with a punching bag between us weeks ago, before all this had started. “Deal.” I kissed him again. “I love you.”

I tasted his smile. Licked his lip to get some more. “I love you so fucking much, you have no idea.”

“I might have some idea. Are you mad? About Mercy?”

“Honey, I’m not in a position to be mad about anything right now.” He swallowed, eyes darting between mine. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“We won’t see each other as often if we’re in separate hospitals.” I’d been fretting about it ever since I’d gotten the offer from Mercy, before all the drama happened. “It’s hard enough right now when we work together. What if…” I trailed off, struggling to articulate the sheer volume of what ifs I had rattling in my brain.

What if we grew apart? What if some other, prettier fellow came along and caught his eye? What if we never saw each other?

He kissed me like he could hear every fear multiplying in my brain.

“Baby.” He smiled when I shivered at the term. “I’ve been waiting for you for years. I’m not going to let you go now.”

It should have felt odd, standing in a hospital hallway, pressing myself up against my attending, planning our life together, and sealing my mouth against his. But it didn’t. It felt right. Right like someone checking my tire pressure. Right like extra queso after a hard day. Right like the feeling I got when I thought about leaving this place behind.

So, I’d go to Mercy and Sam would stay here and keep watch over the residents, the way he was born to do. Jones would probably get the attending job, along with Nate. He and Katie could live their lives here, raise their babies, and be blissfully happy for all eternity. The thought still didn’t sit 100% right with me, but I didn’t dwell on it too long. I had my own happy ending to start living with the man in my arms, who I’d overlooked for too long.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to catch up.”