“Thank you,” was all Simon said. They ran back to his house in the first comfortable silence they’d had between them.
***
Since the attack, Simon hadn’t really spoken to anyone. Not seriously. Heather tried to talk to him about it, but it had been impossible to talk to his ex-wife, and she was all Simon had. She’d always been the only person in his life. But he still couldn’t open up to her, couldn’t find the words. He pretended none of it mattered.
That was nothing new. He was a good doctor for a lot of reasons. One of them being that while he felt empathy and cared for people, he was good at turning off his emotions when he needed to. He could close himself off and make things not bother him, or at least he found a way not to show it.
It’s what he’d done since realizing the first surgery hadn’t been a success. He pretended to accept it and move on, even though he didn’t. He couldn’t.
What he’d just told Trevor was nothing. Not really. Yet, it felt like something. It felt like he’d shared more on that jog with Trevor than he had with anyone else since he lost his ability to perform surgery.
Mostly because he felt the same way Trevor did. When he thanked Trevor, he’d admitted as much. In that sense, he spoke to Trevor.
The why of it he still wasn’t totally sold on. Probably because they were experiencing the same thing in a strange, backward way.
It was that knowledge that made him stop when they reached the porch and say, “Do you want to come in for a drink?” When Trevor’s eyes went wide, Simon realized how it sounded. “Coffee, water, orange juice or tea, you smartass.”
“Hey, I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He smiled. “Yeah, sure. Water sounds good.”
Simon led Trevor inside. It wasn’t as though he had very far to go. This was the smallest house he’d lived in since his dorm in college. “Have a seat.” He nodded at the table. “Bottled or glass? It’s from the filter in the fridge, so it’s clean.”
“Ummm...” Trevor sat down and eyed him. “Honestly? I can’t tell the difference. Whatever’s easier, man.”
Simon grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one to Trevor. He watched as the man twisted the lid off. Watched his throat muscles work as he swallowed it all down without a break. He had plump lips for a man. Not overly so, but they gave Trevor a unique look.
Simon shifted uncomfortably before leaning against the counter in the kitchen. “You can’t work for a couple weeks.”
Trevor looked down and picked at the paper on his empty water bottle. “That’s not your problem. It’s mine. I know what I can handle. I’ll be okay. Even if I wasn’t here working, that doesn’t mean the other guys couldn’t be.” He looked up. “They’re hard workers. They’ll be able to do exactly what you need. They shouldn’t have my shit held against them.”
Simon let out a deep breath, trying to figure out why he felt he needed to do this so badly. It didn’t make sense. “I already said it had nothing to do with your past. I honestly wasn’t sure if you were the right person for the job. Add that in with the fact that I was being an asshole because of my issues and there you have my decision.”
“Jason has an eye like no one I’ve ever seen. He can look at a building or a house and see things I’d never see. He can tell if something’s going to work or not before anyone else can. Andrea’s brickwork is incredible. Blake is the smartest person I know. JT’s been doing this almost as long as I’ve been alive. We’re the right people for the job.”
Simon opened his water bottle and took a few drinks. It was a way to stall. To try and figure out what in the hell he was doing. On the one hand, it wasn’t a big deal. He was considering hiring someone to remodel his house. It had been the plan all along. On the other hand, it was more than that. He was considering hiring someone who he originally wasn’t sure would do a good job. Someone he just spent an hour going on a jog with, where Simon admitted he wasn’t sure who he was without being a heart surgeon.
Someone he thought might get him in a strange, confusing way.
It was the doctor in him who replied, though. “You have the job if you can wait until your hand heals.”
That was a lie. He hadn’t answered as a doctor. He’d answered as the man who just saw somewhat of a kindred spirit in another man. It hadn’t escaped Simon’s attention that Trevor talked about what everyone could bring to the table except himself.
