Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Calvin

I can't feel my fingers and I'm fairly certain my nose is falling off. But I forget all that the moment I spot her in the lobby. Caroline is as beautiful as the last time I saw her.

She's always put-together, like she's stepped out of some magazine—every detail in place. Her tailored coats, the perfectly styled blond hair, the way she carries herself with this effortless grace—it's refined, polished, like she's got the whole world handled.

But I know better. I picked up the clues after she was brought into the emergency room last year, after wiping out on an icy sidewalk. I happened to be on call that day.

Luck or fate, I don't know but I'm glad it was my shift.

Our friendship started innocently enough. When I did my rounds, we found ourselves discussing topics far afield of healthcare. When she was discharged, I offered to stop by and check on her progress, something I've never done with any other patient, previously or since.

A job that started out professional soon turned into something else. At first, I thought it was friendship. I knew from her chart that she was widowed and didn't let my mind veer beyond that. Or at least I tried.

But these last few weeks have been wild and yet I still thought of her often. Very often.

Caroline intrigues me.

Beneath all that sophistication, there's something she's hiding. I can see it in the way her smile falters in the quiet moments when she thinks no one's watching. There's a vulnerability there, a loneliness she keeps buried deep under all that independence and self-control. And the crazy part? It only makes me care for her more. Even if I'm still not sure what we are. That's what I'm here to figure out.

The joy of seeing her again after the hiatus is marred only by her demeanor. Stiff posture, tight lips, eyes half their usual size. Uh oh.

Caroline looks me up and down, making me feel a tad self-conscious. "Do I know you?"

Yikes. Worse than I thought.

For a moment I consider that she's serious. After all, my graying, scraggly beard and suntanned face are a far cry from how I looked the last time she saw me.

"Um, it's me, Calvin."

Caroline rolls her eyes and keeping a wide berth, glides past me. "On my way out. Sorry I missed you."

Confused, I say, "You didn't miss me. I'm right here."

She turns, meets my eye. "You need a shave," she says and walks out into the dark, cold city.

If I'm not mistaken, Caroline Page is fuming mad.