Chapter 4

Chapter Four

PARKER

T he first light of dawn had barely peaked above the horizon when I stirred awake, a tremor of excitement fluttering in my chest. I'd been looking forward to this day all week. I was finally going to be able to introduce David to Travis who had offered to show us some of the best places in Chicago.

Smiling, I rolled over to look at my boyfriend. His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm as he slept, his face as familiar to me as my own. After all, I'd been staring at that face for over a decade. I traced the line of his jaw with my fingertips and his eyes fluttered open. "Good morning," I whispered.

A lazy smile spread across his lips as he pulled me closer. The scent of his evening shower lingered on his skin—warm and comforting, weaving a sense of home into the air that surrounded us. "Hey," he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

Our mouths met in a kiss that promised more, igniting a slow burn that spread throughout my veins. This was the connection that had bound us together as high school sweethearts to navigating adult life side by side. Our hands roamed, tender at first and then with growing urgency. My body began to awaken under his touch. After all these years together, we knew exactly where to touch the other, how to bring each other to the heights of pleasure. But before the heat between us could build into a flame, a shrill beep sliced through the quiet room.

David tensed, and I fought back a sigh, knowing that sound all too well—the harbinger of duty calling. He reached for the phone on the nightstand, and the crease between his brows deepened as he read the text that illuminated the screen. "It's the ER," he said, voice laced with resignation. "There's been a massive pileup."

"But what about our tour of the city?" I asked, hating the petulant sound in my voice but unable to stop it.

"I'm sorry, babe. They're calling everyone in, I have to go. But why don't you still go with Travis. Let him show you around and then you can show me another day."

I understood the demands of his job better than anyone, but it didn't make these moments any easier. His schedule had been a bone of contention between us for a while. I'd begged him to take a job in a medical office, somewhere with more consistent hours, but he'd insisted that working in the emergency room was his true calling. I tried to be understanding. I wanted him to follow his dreams, to be happy, but more and more, it seemed like the thing that made him happy was the exact thing that was pulling him away from me. I'd been hoping the move to Chicago would be a fresh start for us, but so far, I wasn't convinced.

"Of course," I replied, trying to mask the disappointment that gnawed at my insides. "Go save lives, Dr. Hero."

He offered a rueful chuckle, pecking my lips one last time before slipping out of bed. I watched the muscles of his back flex as he gathered his things. "I'm sorry about…" David said, gesturing to our bed and what had been about to transpire there. "We'll make up for it tonight?"

"Sure," I answered smoothly, forcing a playful wink even though my stomach twisted with the knowledge that he would probably be too tired by the time he got home to want to pick up where we'd left off.

David hurriedly got ready in the bathroom then with one last apologetic glance, slipped out of our room. The apartment door closed a few seconds later with a quiet snick that echoed loudly around the small space, like the sealing of a tomb. I lay back against the pillows, the remnants of our interrupted intimacy hanging in the air like a question left unanswered. Frustration simmered beneath my skin, mingling with a restlessness I couldn't quite explain.

My gaze landed on the empty space beside me, cold and unyielding without David's warmth. It was supposed to have been a day of fun and friendship, a chance to explore our new surroundings while strengthening our bond. But now, with plans unraveling, I was left with a pulsing silence and ache inside my chest.

Maybe this was some sort of sign, a nudge from the universe telling me to take a step back and reevaluate. David and I had built a life together, but were we still walking the same path? Shaking off the thought, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I needed to clear my head, find a way to salvage the day.

I grabbed my phone, the screen lighting up with David's last message—a string of apologies over missing dinner the night before. With a sigh, I typed out a text to Travis. Hey, looks like our plans have changed. David got called into work.

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed, and Travis' reply popped up. No worries! How about I swing by and pick you up? Chicago won't explore itself!

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, my mood from just a few moments before, lifting. That was Travis—ever ready to seize the day with a grin. "Yeah," I whispered to the empty room, "let's do this."

The city greeted us with its symphony of sounds and vibrant array of colors, and we dove headfirst into the heart of it all. Millennium Park was alive with tourists and locals alike, all basking under the summer sun, a constant breeze keeping it from becoming unpleasantly hot. I suppose there was a reason Chicago was known as The Windy City. Travis's laughter was infectious as he snapped photos of us with the gleaming curves of The Bean reflecting our grinning faces.

"Come on, Parker," he said, a challenge sparkling in his blue eyes. "Let's see if we can get the whole skyline in one shot."

We posed and stretched, angling our bodies in ridiculous ways until we were both doubled over with laughter. It wasn't just the absurdity of our attempts, but the easiness between us. "Next stop, Navy Pier!" Travis announced with a flourish, leading the way.

As we strolled along the pier, the breeze off Lake Michigan carried the scent of fresh popcorn and cotton candy. "Ready to conquer new heights?" he quipped, motioning toward the towering Ferris wheel.

"Uh…Only if you promise not to let go," I replied, only half-joking.

"Never," he vowed, and there was something in the solemnity of his tone that made my heart skip a beat.

The world fell away as we ascended, Chicago sprawling beneath us. I leaned against the railing, peering down at the tiny figures below, but it was the occasional brush of his knee against mine that had caught my attention. It was purely innocent, but the jolt of electricity that traveled up my leg every time was as exciting as it was confusing.

We rode the wheel twice, the second time in comfortable silence, our shoulders touching, our gazes lost in the horizon where sky met city. As we stepped off, the glow of the setting sun painted everything in muted colors, and I knew that this moment, this day, would be etched in my memory forever.

"Thank you for showing me around. Chicago truly is a beautiful city," I said.

Travis beamed at me, the unfiltered joy on his face momentarily stealing my breath. "I'm glad I could help you fall in love with it. But the tour isn't over yet. You still need to try some of the food."

My stomach decided right then to snarl with hunger, letting out a loud and embarrassing growl. With a laugh, Travis suggested we cap off our tour with some authentic Italian cuisine. "Romero's isn't far from here," he said, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Best carbonara in the city."

As we pushed through the restaurant's front door, the aroma of garlic and fresh basil enveloped us. The hostess, a stunning redhead, greeted Travis like an old friend as she led us through the dining area where customers chatted quietly, enjoying their meals as well as the company. Soft music played in the background, giving the restaurant a warm, cozy feel.

The hostess showed us to a table nestled in a corner, the flicker of a candle casting playful shadows across the crisp linen tablecloth. We'd just begun looking over the menu when two men emerged from the kitchen. The tall, dark, and handsome one was wearing black slacks and a deep plum colored button-down while the shorter man—who looked awfully familiar—wore an apron over his clothes. "Travis!" the shorter one called, tossing his arms around Travis's shoulders. I stared at him, trying to figure out if we'd met somewhere before.

Travis hugged him back then shook hands with the taller man before turning toward me. "Guys, this is Parker Reyes, a friend of mine and the new physical therapist at the clinic. Parker, this is Giovanni and Caleb. They own Romero's together, but Caleb is the one who draws everyone in with his amazing cooking," he said.

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking hands with them both, but the fact that I couldn't place where I'd seen Caleb before nagged at me. There was something about him…perhaps the tilt of the head or maybe the shape of his smile. It was driving me nuts. "I'm sorry, but you just look so familiar. Have we met before?" I asked, curiosity knitting my brows together.

Caleb let out a chuckle that seemed to fill the room. "I get that a lot," he admitted. "You might know of my twin brother, Carter Greene?"

My jaw dropped slightly. Of course! Carter Greene, the rock and roll superstar whose posters had adorned the walls of half the dorm rooms on campus. I could see it now and the resemblance was striking.

"Wow, that's—Wow," I managed, earning a chuckle from both Travis and Giovanni.

"Caleb is also a cousin to my friend Morgan who's married to my best friend, Akio. So, we get invited to a lot of the same functions," Travis explained. He smiled as he looked back at his friends. "Parker just moved here from the Cincinnati area, and I've been showing him around the city. No tour of Chicago would be complete without a stop at Romero's."

Dimples appeared on Caleb's cheeks as he grinned. "Well, I certainly hope you enjoy your meal after all that build up."

Giovanni tucked his arm around Caleb's waist. "You never disappoint, sweetheart. You two enjoy your dinner. And order anything you'd like. It's on the house."

He waved us off when we tried to argue then the two of them retreated to the kitchen. "They seem like great guys," I mused.

"Yeah, they're the best. And still totally crazy about each other even though they've been together for years." I couldn't be sure, but I almost thought I detected a hint of longing in Travis's voice.

Our conversation flowed as freely as the wine from our glasses. We traded stories of our childhoods. I told him about my family—two loving parents, two sisters and a brother all of whom were older than me—and how their unwavering support in all aspects of my life had helped shape the man I'd become.

"I want what my parents have, you know? They've been married for forty years and are still madly in love with each other. That kind of devotion is hard to come by these days."

Travis nodded thoughtfully. "I know what you mean. My parents were the same way. They were each other's best friends."

"Were?" I hedged carefully in case he didn't want to talk about it.

He gave me a sad smile. "Yeah. They both died in a car accident when I was thirteen. I was an only child, so one minute I had a family and the next…"

I reached across the table, covering his hand with my own and rubbing soothing circles over it. "Oh, Travis, I'm so sorry. That must have been awful."

He nodded. "It was, but luckily, my mom had a younger sister who was willing to take me in, so I didn't end up in the foster system. Aunt Lisa was only nineteen when my parents died, barely an adult herself. She had no idea what she wanted to do with her own life, much less how to raise a thirteen-year-old boy, but she tried her best. She was always more of a friend than a parental figure, but we made it work, and I love her to death."

I moved my hand back to my lap but noticed his were shaking slightly when he lifted his water glass to his lips, and I got the feeling this wasn't something he talked about often. I felt honored that he'd shared this piece of himself with me. "So, what made you decide to go into physical therapy?"

Travis seemed grateful for the change in subject because his smile made a reappearance. "I was like you, active in sports throughout school. I played all sports at one time or another, but basketball and baseball were my favorites. Once I graduated, however, I was ready for a change. I didn't want to play sports in college, but instead, looked into a degree in physical therapy. I'd always admired the athletic trainers who worked with us in school, and I wanted to be like them, to help people recover from injuries and surgeries whether they happened through sports or not."

The server came with our food then, setting down plates of delicious smelling pasta and a basket of fresh baked garlic bread. Travis waited until she walked away and then his eyes met mine. "What about you? How'd you end up in this career?"

I finished the bite of carbonara I'd taken, moaning at the creamy texture, then I swallowed and wiped my mouth with my napkin. "My true love was always baseball. I played a little football, but nothing got to me the way baseball did. I ate, slept, and breathed that sport and I dreamed of playing college ball and maybe eventually getting to play in the Majors one day. But then I got injured during my senior year. I was rounding the bases and collided with the third baseman. It was a hard hit. He got a concussion, and I ended up with a torn ACL. I started treatment right away, but by the time it healed, I'd already missed most of the season. And since I wasn't playing?—"

"Then recruiters couldn't see you in action," Travis supplied knowingly.

"You got it. It ended up being a blessing in disguise though because if that injury hadn't happened, I never would have gone into physical therapy—which I love. I picked that field because I wanted to help other athletes who have been sidelined the way I was, and it's turned out to be the most fulfilling career I could have chosen. Helping people isn't just a job to me, it's a passion."

"I know what you mean," Travis said, his gaze holding mine. "Seeing someone take those first steps after an injury, it's like witnessing a personal miracle. Makes all the time and effort and pain worth it."

"Exactly." I smiled, feeling a kinship that transcended our professional roles. He seemed to understand me in ways that no one else ever had. Not even David.

"Travis," I began, hesitating as our eyes locked again. "Today was—it was more than I expected."

"Unexpected in a good way, I hope?" His tone was light, yet there was an undercurrent of something deeper.

"Definitely good," I assured him, my heart skipping a beat. "Thank you for showing me around."

"It was my pleasure," he said softly.

The hum of the car engine was soothing after spending the day immersed in the noisy city. I leaned my head back against the seat, a contented smile playing on my lips. I turned my head, staring at his profile while Chicago's night lights blurred outside the window. "Thanks again for today. I can't remember the last time I laughed this much."

"Anytime. I had a great time too," Travis replied. "It's been a while since I visited some of the better places our city has to offer. It's too easy to take them for granted when you live here, I suppose."

I nodded my understanding then turned back to look out the windshield as the car slowed down. As we pulled up to my apartment building, a sliver of guilt wedged itself into my chest. David should have been the one making me laugh today, not Travis. And yet, throughout the hours spent exploring and eating and laughing, my boyfriend had barely even entered my mind.

"See you at work on Monday?" Travis asked as he parked the car, pulling me from my reverie.

"Of course," I assured him, though part of me wished I could rewind and relive this day all over again. I stepped out onto the curb, the cooler night air almost refreshing after the warmth of his car.

"Goodnight, Parker," Travis called out, his tone conveying a hint of something I couldn't quite decipher.

"Night, Travis." I offered him a final wave before darting up the front steps of my building. He waited until I was safely inside before pulling away from the curb.

David still wasn't home when I got inside our sparsely furnished apartment, so I slipped out of my jeans and into a pair of well-worn sweats that still smelled faintly of fabric softener. My eyes landed on a box in the corner and my fingers brushed across the label marked Memories . I hesitated, contemplating whether to dive into unpacking or leave it for another day.

Determined to make progress, I tore open the flaps, revealing photo albums and trinkets from my life before Chicago. But as I arranged video game consoles and slotted old DVDs into their new homes, my mind kept betraying me, wandering back to Travis. To his sun-kissed hair and his infectious laugh that seemed to resonate in a place deep within me.

I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Shuffling through a box labeled Books , each novel I pulled out was a reminder of quieter nights with David. I sat down on the floor, back against the couch, surrounded by memories in physical form, but my treacherous mind returned again to Travis. The way his easy smile, his ability to make even the smallest things fun, the warmth of his arm as it casually brushed against mine. It was electrifying, this new camaraderie, and the realization hit me hard—I hadn't felt this kind of excitement in a very long time.

"Fuck," I whispered, the word slipping out like a secret confession. Was this what I'd been missing? This thrill of connecting with someone who shared my passions, my dreams? With David, our conversations had grown practical, the spontaneity of our early days replaced by schedules and routines.

I stood up abruptly, a restlessness overtaking me. Moving to the window, I watched the city lights blink, a silent witness to my inner turmoil. The image of Travis's easy smile persisted, unbidden and unwelcome, yet impossible to shake.

"David's just busy, that's all," I tried to convince myself. "You need to spend some quality time together, reignite what you've always had." But the words felt hollow, even to my own ears. David was incredible—a brilliant doctor, compassionate and caring—but when was the last time we'd really connected? Really laughed until our sides hurt or chased an adventure without a care in the world?

The reflection staring back at me from the glass was conflicted, caught between loyalty to the past and an unexpected spark that hinted at—what? Possibilities? A different path? "Shit." I scrubbed a hand over my face, my heart a battleground of shoulds and what-ifs. I loved David; I did. But the time spent with Travis had opened up questions in my mind. Questions that I couldn't ignore, no matter how much I wished I could. I needed to figure this out. For David's sake as well as my own.

The city hummed below, indifferent to my personal crisis, as I sank into the sofa once more, cradling my head in my hands. Tomorrow, I promised myself, tomorrow I would talk to David. Maybe schedule a date night with him. We'd find our way back to each other, rekindle what we had. More determined than ever, I set to work unpacking boxes.