Chapter 22 #2
Suddenly, a tall man in a white lab coat steps out of one of the rooms ahead. His eyes immediately lock onto Halsey, a flicker of recognition flashing in them. His eyebrows lift slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Halsey?” he says, the surprise in his voice unmistakable. “You arrived sooner than I thought.”
Halsey blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Dr. Aldridge? I didn’t realize you were still here.”
Dr. Aldridge shakes his head, chuckling softly. “The trip from Baker’s Creek to Portland took longer than expected. I’m running late for my rounds.”
Halsey’s expression shifts from surprise to concern. “Have you seen Santos yet?”
At the mention of San, my head tilts, and I finally pay attention.
The doctor nods a couple of times. “Yes, I’ve spoken with him, and he gave me permission to discuss his case with you.” He glances at me briefly, as if gauging whether to continue.
Before I can say anything, Halsey steps in. “This is Dustin Haverbrook,” she says quickly. “We’re . . . It’s complicated, but he has the same privileges. If you want to check with San first, though, go ahead.”
Dr. Aldridge doesn’t miss a beat, extending his hand toward me. “Hayes Aldridge, I’m Santos’s surgeon. Nice to meet you.”
I shake his hand firmly. “The pleasure is mine, thank you for attending to him.”
“So, how is he doing?” Halsey’s voice cuts through the tension. “When can we take him home? And how are we handling his recovery?”
“Santos needs to stay for a few more days, five at most. We’ve discussed rehab options—either here or in Baker’s Creek.
” Dr. Aldridge pauses, glancing at both of us before continuing.
“Actually, I was hoping Santos would choose to do his rehabilitation at Baker’s Creek.
We have state-of-the-art equipment, and we’re expanding the rehab center.
And . . . I’d like to offer you a job there, Halsey. If you’re interested.”
Halsey blinks, clearly taken aback, and glances at me for a moment before turning back to Dr. Aldridge. “I . . . I think we’ll need to discuss what’s best for everyone. But I’m definitely interested in applying for a position, if you have openings.”
“Baker’s Creek is only twenty minutes from my ranch,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, even though the thought of us all being there together tugs at something deep inside me. “Obviously, it’s up to you two, but . . . we have a place there.”
Dr. Aldridge’s eyes linger on me for a moment, as if he’s sizing me up. But then he nods slowly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “That has to count for something. It’s not like I want to tell you or Santos what to do, but . . . having you would be a great addition to my practice.”
I nod, the idea of Santos recovering at the ranch settling in my mind. “It’s not just hers or my decision to make,” I say, my voice more measured now. “We’ll need to talk it through together.” But even as I say it, I can’t help but feel a sense of certainty.
There are so many reasons I bought that ranch in Happy Springs.
It’s away from the noise and chaos of Los Angeles, far enough to escape, but close enough to Portland that I can convince San to visit often, or even drag him to the ranch during the off-season.
Away from Jean-Luc, away from the constant nonsense that comes with our world.
Dr. Aldridge breaks the silence, his voice calm but encouraging. “Think it over, Halsey. No rush, but we’d love to have you on board. For Santos’s sake, and for ours.”
With that, he turns and walks away, leaving us standing there in the quiet hallway.
Halsey lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temples as if trying to ease the pressure building in her mind. “This is . . . a lot.”
I step closer, the space between us feeling fragile, like it could crack at any moment. Gently, I rest my hand on her shoulder, offering what little comfort I can. My voice softens. “You don’t have to decide anything right now, Halsey. But . . . we need you. He needs you.”
“It’s up to the three of us,” she insists. “Let’s see our guy.”
With that, we head down the hall, the quiet hum of the hospital growing louder in the stillness around us.
Each step feels heavier, like the air between us is filled with everything unsaid, everything we’ve been carrying for so long.
But we walk together, side by side, moving toward something that feels like it could break us or heal us—maybe both.
When we reach Santos’s room, the door creaks softly as I push it open, and the faint sound of the machines greets us, steady and rhythmic. There, sitting up in the hospital bed, is San—his skin a sickly pallor but his eyes bright as soon as they land on Halsey.
A slow, tired grin spreads across his face, lighting up his entire expression. His eyes flick between the two of us, and then, without saying a word, he mouths, Thank you, his gaze locking with mine.
I give him a small nod, feeling something stir inside me—relief, maybe. Or perhaps it’s that familiar connection we’ve always shared, the kind that doesn’t need words. The kind that tells me, despite everything, we’re still in this together.
Halsey steps forward first, her eyes softening as she reaches for Santos’s hand, cradling it gently between her own. “Hey, troublemaker,” she teases, her tone light, though I can hear the relief beneath it. “If you wanted to see me, you should’ve just used your words. This was unnecessary drama.”
Santos chuckles, though it’s a little strained, his eyes crinkling with that familiar mischief. “If I knew getting hurt would bring you here, I would’ve broken something else years ago,” he shoots back, his voice warm but tired.
Halsey rolls her eyes, though there’s a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’m hopeful. Do you think . . . do you think things will get better?” he asks.
She nods. “You ever notice how the stars seem brighter after the worst nights?” Her voice softens, the playful edge giving way to something more reflective.
“Like, even after everything falls apart, they’re still there.
Still shining. Makes you wonder . . . if maybe the worst things have to happen for you to really see the light. ”
Halsey’s hand tightens around his, her eyes searching his face hoping he understood the meaning behind her words. But he just looks back at her.
I stand at the edge of the room, watching, feeling like the stars she’s talking about might be just beyond the window—waiting for us, waiting for whatever comes next. And somehow, it feels like this moment is only the beginning of something none of us are ready to face just yet.
But soon enough, we will.
I watch them for a moment—Halsey’s hand wrapped around his. The quiet connection that’s always existed between them is there. It’s the kind of moment that doesn’t need interruptions, and maybe, just maybe, I’m the one who doesn’t belong here right now. They need this. They deserve this.
Quietly, I step back, retreating toward the door. Neither of them notices as I slip out into the hallway, but that’s how it should be. It’s their time now.