I’m scrubbed in and standing at the operating table by the time he walks in.
His gaze is aimed straight at me as he makes a beeline for my side.
The anesthesiologist tries to catch his attention, to congratulate him, and Matt barely throws a glance in his direction.
“Bailey, I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”
“Not all morning.”
“What?” he asks, brows furrowed.
I clear my throat, aware that every person in that OR has stopped what they’re doing to listen to us.
“I checked my phone when I was on my way to work and I didn’t have any missed calls,” I clarify, turning to the patient. “Everything is ready to go. Let me grab your gown and I’ll help tie it.”
That’s my way of trying to tell him, Not now. Not in front of everyone. Please don’t tell me you’re moving to Costa Rica now because I will definitely sob and I’d like to maintain some dignity in front of my coworkers, thank you very much.
His eyes lock with mine and they’re imploring me to do…something. What? Do what, Matt?!
I turn to retrieve his gown and as I tie it onto him, we don’t say a word. As we go around the room for the time-out, confirming we’re all ready to get started, I stare up at the gallery, at all the eager faces staring right back down at me. They’re watching, waiting. My fledgling relationship with Matt is probably just as interesting to them as the surgery they came here to watch.
“Bailey, you’re up,” Matt says, his voice distant and cold. It’s the surgeon talking—that’s what I tell myself so I don’t have to feel hurt when I turn and see he’s staring at me like he doesn’t even recognize me.
I’m the same person I was yesterday, Matt.
You’re the one who’s changed.
He finds me after I finish scrubbing out. I’m walking down the hall when he steps out of a post-op recovery room and heads in the opposite direction. His presence might as well take up the whole damn hallway. He’s half a foot taller than everyone he passes. His hair is ten shades darker. He turns heads without even trying.
I don’t consciously decide to walk right by him. I have work I need to catch up on, but he blocks my path and narrows his gaze down at me. He looks like a giant who wants to crush me under his shoe.
“Can I speak with you for a moment?”
I’m sure he’s expecting a fight, but I won’t be immature about this. I nod and offer a tight-lipped smile.
“Of course. Where would you like to speak?”
He grips my elbow and tugs me hard into a nearby on-call room.
Metal bunk beds are stacked against one wall. A wooden desk fills what’s left of the small space. The lights are dim as I turn to face him and decide to speak first.
“Congratulations on the grant, Matt. I’m really happy for you.”
Shockingly, it’s the truth. Separate from being hurt, I am happy for him. I can’t think of another doctor who deserves this as much as he does.
“I was going to tell you about it,” he says quickly, coming toward me. I hold my ground and it only takes him two strides to reach me. His hands wrap around my biceps and he speaks quickly, words rushing out one after the other. “I just didn’t want to make a fuss about it until I knew for sure whether or not the committee would pick me. There was every chance the other surgeon would win.” I nod, trying hard to give him the benefit of the doubt. “And I wasn’t sure how to say, Oh, by the way, I could be moving to Costa Rica soon.”
“So instead you opted to keep me in the dark,” I clarify with a rueful smirk.
He rears back like my words sting him. “No, Bailey. No. I wanted to preserve what we had before complicating it with this.”
I sigh and nod, sad for us both. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just really wish you had told me.”
“I’m sorry, I am. It was selfish of me.”
He’s saying all the right things and I’m somehow not making a complete ass of myself. This should go down as the most mature fight any couple has ever had, but I can’t seem to care. Just because he’s clarifying things for me now doesn’t change the fact that he’s leaving.
“When will you go?” I ask, my voice emotionless.
He frowns. “Summer at the latest.”
Well there’s our timeline: a few months. Maybe we can really make them count. Maybe I can cram in a lifetime’s worth of memories with Matt before he leaves.
“Please don’t be angry, Bailey. This doesn’t have to be sad. In fact, I’ve been thinking…” He bends to my eye level. “You could come with me.”
“Come with you?” I repeat in disbelief.
The suggestion lights a fire under him. He releases me and starts to pace quickly, hand brushing the nape of his neck.
“Yes. Come with me! Honestly, I’ve been considering it for weeks. This clinic is going to be impossible to run without you. I need you by my side.”
I’m shaking my head, trying hard to keep up. When I speak, I sound as if he’s proposing the most ludicrous idea I’ve ever heard. “What are you talking about? My life is here, Matt. My sister is here. I can’t just pick up and leave.”
His brows furrow. “Josie will come too, of course. I want her to! This is perfect. You and I will build the clinic together. You’ll be by my side. There are tutors I can hire for Josie or we could enroll her in an American school there. I’ve already been calling around. This weekend, I emailed a colleague—”
He’s talking a mile a minute, acting as if this is a real possibility. I suddenly feel the urge to throw up.
“STOP!” I’m seething. “Just stop! You’ve been calling around and making plans and yet it didn’t occur to you to include me in these plans? Jesus, do you really think I’d move Josie to another country just like that?” I snap. “We’ve been dating for a few weeks, Matt. Put yourself in my shoes. Think about what you’re asking of me!”
Just then, the door to the on-call room opens and a resident steps in, rubbing her eyes. When she glances up and sees us, she freezes. “Oh, crap. Sorry.” Then she jerks around and scurries out of the room.
I want to follow her, but instead, I take a steadying breath and choose my next words very carefully. It’s easier to think when I keep my attention on the door and away from him.
“I’m very, very happy that you won the grant. No one deserves it more than you. I wish you had told me about it, but I understand why you didn’t. Things are new between us and you didn’t want to rock the boat. I get that. I forgive you for that. I just…need a little while to wrap my head around this. That’s all.”
He nods and tugs me toward him by the front of my scrub top so he can wrap his arms around me. We hug, and at first, it’s the last thing I want. It feels awkward and tense. I don’t give in. I keep my arms hanging limp at my sides in silent protest. My gaze is focused on the wall behind his head. A part of me wants to step away and deny him this hug, but then his arms tighten around me and I let my forehead fall against his chest, against my better judgment. My breathing slows and my anger is fleeting, replaced by an overwhelming urge to accept this small comfort.
He dips down so his head rests against my shoulder, and my heart breaks a little at the idea that this could be one of the last times we’re this close to one another. By the time the snow melts and the flowers bloom again, he’ll be gone.
“This doesn’t have to be the end,” he says, hopeful. “This grant could be the start of something for both of us. Please think about it.”
Chapter 31
MATT
When I make it back to my office, it’s back to normal—messy, but at least it’s my mess. Patricia worked her magic in clearing everyone and everything out. The balloons and bouquets were sent down to my patients. The congratulatory cookies and cupcakes and fruit baskets were dispersed to different lounges around the hospital. I’ll be everyone’s favorite doctor by the end of the day. I sneer at the thought. With my office back in order, it’s almost as if this morning never happened, but unfortunately, that’s not the case.
His gaze is aimed straight at me as he makes a beeline for my side.
The anesthesiologist tries to catch his attention, to congratulate him, and Matt barely throws a glance in his direction.
“Bailey, I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”
“Not all morning.”
“What?” he asks, brows furrowed.
I clear my throat, aware that every person in that OR has stopped what they’re doing to listen to us.
“I checked my phone when I was on my way to work and I didn’t have any missed calls,” I clarify, turning to the patient. “Everything is ready to go. Let me grab your gown and I’ll help tie it.”
That’s my way of trying to tell him, Not now. Not in front of everyone. Please don’t tell me you’re moving to Costa Rica now because I will definitely sob and I’d like to maintain some dignity in front of my coworkers, thank you very much.
His eyes lock with mine and they’re imploring me to do…something. What? Do what, Matt?!
I turn to retrieve his gown and as I tie it onto him, we don’t say a word. As we go around the room for the time-out, confirming we’re all ready to get started, I stare up at the gallery, at all the eager faces staring right back down at me. They’re watching, waiting. My fledgling relationship with Matt is probably just as interesting to them as the surgery they came here to watch.
“Bailey, you’re up,” Matt says, his voice distant and cold. It’s the surgeon talking—that’s what I tell myself so I don’t have to feel hurt when I turn and see he’s staring at me like he doesn’t even recognize me.
I’m the same person I was yesterday, Matt.
You’re the one who’s changed.
He finds me after I finish scrubbing out. I’m walking down the hall when he steps out of a post-op recovery room and heads in the opposite direction. His presence might as well take up the whole damn hallway. He’s half a foot taller than everyone he passes. His hair is ten shades darker. He turns heads without even trying.
I don’t consciously decide to walk right by him. I have work I need to catch up on, but he blocks my path and narrows his gaze down at me. He looks like a giant who wants to crush me under his shoe.
“Can I speak with you for a moment?”
I’m sure he’s expecting a fight, but I won’t be immature about this. I nod and offer a tight-lipped smile.
“Of course. Where would you like to speak?”
He grips my elbow and tugs me hard into a nearby on-call room.
Metal bunk beds are stacked against one wall. A wooden desk fills what’s left of the small space. The lights are dim as I turn to face him and decide to speak first.
“Congratulations on the grant, Matt. I’m really happy for you.”
Shockingly, it’s the truth. Separate from being hurt, I am happy for him. I can’t think of another doctor who deserves this as much as he does.
“I was going to tell you about it,” he says quickly, coming toward me. I hold my ground and it only takes him two strides to reach me. His hands wrap around my biceps and he speaks quickly, words rushing out one after the other. “I just didn’t want to make a fuss about it until I knew for sure whether or not the committee would pick me. There was every chance the other surgeon would win.” I nod, trying hard to give him the benefit of the doubt. “And I wasn’t sure how to say, Oh, by the way, I could be moving to Costa Rica soon.”
“So instead you opted to keep me in the dark,” I clarify with a rueful smirk.
He rears back like my words sting him. “No, Bailey. No. I wanted to preserve what we had before complicating it with this.”
I sigh and nod, sad for us both. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just really wish you had told me.”
“I’m sorry, I am. It was selfish of me.”
He’s saying all the right things and I’m somehow not making a complete ass of myself. This should go down as the most mature fight any couple has ever had, but I can’t seem to care. Just because he’s clarifying things for me now doesn’t change the fact that he’s leaving.
“When will you go?” I ask, my voice emotionless.
He frowns. “Summer at the latest.”
Well there’s our timeline: a few months. Maybe we can really make them count. Maybe I can cram in a lifetime’s worth of memories with Matt before he leaves.
“Please don’t be angry, Bailey. This doesn’t have to be sad. In fact, I’ve been thinking…” He bends to my eye level. “You could come with me.”
“Come with you?” I repeat in disbelief.
The suggestion lights a fire under him. He releases me and starts to pace quickly, hand brushing the nape of his neck.
“Yes. Come with me! Honestly, I’ve been considering it for weeks. This clinic is going to be impossible to run without you. I need you by my side.”
I’m shaking my head, trying hard to keep up. When I speak, I sound as if he’s proposing the most ludicrous idea I’ve ever heard. “What are you talking about? My life is here, Matt. My sister is here. I can’t just pick up and leave.”
His brows furrow. “Josie will come too, of course. I want her to! This is perfect. You and I will build the clinic together. You’ll be by my side. There are tutors I can hire for Josie or we could enroll her in an American school there. I’ve already been calling around. This weekend, I emailed a colleague—”
He’s talking a mile a minute, acting as if this is a real possibility. I suddenly feel the urge to throw up.
“STOP!” I’m seething. “Just stop! You’ve been calling around and making plans and yet it didn’t occur to you to include me in these plans? Jesus, do you really think I’d move Josie to another country just like that?” I snap. “We’ve been dating for a few weeks, Matt. Put yourself in my shoes. Think about what you’re asking of me!”
Just then, the door to the on-call room opens and a resident steps in, rubbing her eyes. When she glances up and sees us, she freezes. “Oh, crap. Sorry.” Then she jerks around and scurries out of the room.
I want to follow her, but instead, I take a steadying breath and choose my next words very carefully. It’s easier to think when I keep my attention on the door and away from him.
“I’m very, very happy that you won the grant. No one deserves it more than you. I wish you had told me about it, but I understand why you didn’t. Things are new between us and you didn’t want to rock the boat. I get that. I forgive you for that. I just…need a little while to wrap my head around this. That’s all.”
He nods and tugs me toward him by the front of my scrub top so he can wrap his arms around me. We hug, and at first, it’s the last thing I want. It feels awkward and tense. I don’t give in. I keep my arms hanging limp at my sides in silent protest. My gaze is focused on the wall behind his head. A part of me wants to step away and deny him this hug, but then his arms tighten around me and I let my forehead fall against his chest, against my better judgment. My breathing slows and my anger is fleeting, replaced by an overwhelming urge to accept this small comfort.
He dips down so his head rests against my shoulder, and my heart breaks a little at the idea that this could be one of the last times we’re this close to one another. By the time the snow melts and the flowers bloom again, he’ll be gone.
“This doesn’t have to be the end,” he says, hopeful. “This grant could be the start of something for both of us. Please think about it.”
Chapter 31
MATT
When I make it back to my office, it’s back to normal—messy, but at least it’s my mess. Patricia worked her magic in clearing everyone and everything out. The balloons and bouquets were sent down to my patients. The congratulatory cookies and cupcakes and fruit baskets were dispersed to different lounges around the hospital. I’ll be everyone’s favorite doctor by the end of the day. I sneer at the thought. With my office back in order, it’s almost as if this morning never happened, but unfortunately, that’s not the case.
