Chapter 9 Elias
ELIAS
It’s been two weeks since I’ve talked to Miss Wrong Number, and this sounds ridiculous, but I think I’m a bit heartbroken.
I knew sending her that last message was wrong, but I got nervous.
I was afraid of what would happen if our relationship kept growing like that.
Every sexting experience became more bold, hotter, and the connection between us became stronger.
I haven’t had a relationship since my ex-wife, and that wasn’t even that great of a relationship.
I have a lot to re-evaluate about myself if I want to talk to my mystery woman again.
I want to learn her name. I want to know everything there is to know about her.
I want to know the basics, like her favorite color, and also the things that no one else knows about.
Does she pinch her brows together when she reads?
Does she cry during movies? Does she find beauty in the ugly terrifying things?
Does she still make a wish on her birthday?
And if she does, what does she wish for?
I want to know everything.
And I ruined it with one message.
I can be real fucking idiot for a guy who is a literal brain surgeon.
“About time,” Winston says, patting the barstool next to him. “I got you a beer.”
I plop down, tension aching in the back of my neck. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Before I say another word, I wrap my hand around the slick glass drenched in condensation and chug the beer until there’s a little bit less then half left.
The bartender happens to be in front of me and lifts a pierced eyebrow at me. “That kind of day, huh?”
“More like two weeks,” I mumble.
“Damn. Sorry to hear that. I’ll keep them coming, then.”
“Thanks.” My gaze drops to his name tag. “Mike.”
“No problem. If you need anything let me know. The kitchen is open until midnight.” He tosses the bar towel over his shoulder and walks over to a couple who just sat down to take their drink order.
Winston says, “You need to tell me what’s going on. We haven’t really talked ’cause of our schedules. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
More like weeks. Not that I’d ever tell him that. He’d find a way to bench me so I couldn’t do surgeries. Surgery is the only thing that has given me any peace of mind.
Mike brings me another beer, the gold liquid topped with the perfect amount of foam. The cold of the glass seeps into my palm. I’m tempted to drain the second glass. I don’t. I take it easy, so Winston doesn’t drag me out of here.
“It’s been a rough few weeks is all.” I try to keep it simple as I explain, hoping that reason is enough.
He doesn’t say anything, just drinks his own beer, staring at me as if he’s waiting for me to continue.
I don’t.
I take a sip of my own drink, trying to wrap my head around a few thoughts that have been constantly on my mind.
I’ve been wondering if I made the right choice when it comes to my father.
I feel cruel. Part of me knows that what I said was necessary.
I have the right to protect my peace, even if there is lingering doubt that I’ve made the wrong choice.
Did I do it out of anger? Is cutting him out truly what’s best for me?
What if he’s truly telling the truth this time?
A quiet growl resonates in my throat at the stupid thought. That’s the part of me that still holds on to hope. I fucking hate hope sometimes.
“Okay, either talk to me, or I’ll figure out a way to bench you until you go to therapy.”
“Therapy? I don’t need therapy. I just have a lot on my mind. I’m fine. I promise.”
Winston sighs, shaking his head as he stands, then fishes out his wallet. “Okay, then.” He pulls out a twenty-dollar bill and slaps it on the countertop. “Have a great night, Elias. I’ll see you at work.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t go. Jesus. I’ll talk.” I chuckle, pointing to his chair. “Sit down. Dramatic much?”
He snatches his money back and tucks it in his pocket. “Well, I wasn’t sure if you were going to be an asshole the entire night, and honestly, I’d rather be around my beautiful pregnant wife.”
I chortle into the pint before taking a swig of beer. “That’s fair. I’m sorry. I’ll talk, but I don’t know where it will lead. My head is kind of a mess.”
He slaps me on the shoulder, a gesture that’s supposed to give reassurance. “Good. Now, spill. This isn’t between doctors. We aren’t on the clock. We’re friends. You can trust me not to say anything to anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I shake my head, looking left, then right before downing another swallow of beer.
I wipe my mouth off with a napkin and turn in my seat to look at him.
“No, that’s not why I haven’t said anything.
Honestly, it’s me. I’m in my forties and if I say my issues out loud, I’ll sound childish.
I’ll sound like a kid who didn’t get enough love. ”
“Did you?” he asks with no judgment, just simple curiosity.
“Did I what?”
“Get enough love as a child?”
I roll my eyes, laughing. “Come on. Seriously? I’m not…
” I can’t finish my sentence because years of hiding behind the bars of the isolation I forced myself into begin to unravel.
“We don’t have to do this, Winston. Really.
” I swallow and my leg begins to shake with anxiety.
The weight of emotions threatens to break from my tongue like a bursting dam.
I don’t know where to start. I’ve never had anyone to tell my feelings to before.
After my mom died, Dad became who he is now, and I was left on my own.
I didn’t trust easily after that. I kept to myself.
If I kept to myself, no one could get close enough to hurt me again.
Personal boundaries and space became too important to me.
Instead of growing out of it, I grew into it, and now it’s like I’m a fucking child all over again because I’m confronted with the man who paved the path for my shortcomings.
Pathetic.
“I’m here for you, Elias. No judgments. Take the time you need.”
I groan, running my fingers through my hair, and become frustrated. “I don’t know, Winston. I don’t know where to start. I was fine before my dad wandered into the hospital, and now he’s stirred up all the feelings that I had—”
“Buried,” he finishes my thought for me. “Not forgotten. Buried. And you weren’t fine. Don’t forget who recruited you.” He eyes me before taking a swig. “You don’t think I don’t know what it means for someone to be a master of their craft at your age? It meant a lot of personal sacrifice.”
I nod in agreement, getting lost in my thoughts while downing more of my drink.
“The moment my mom died and I couldn’t save her, I knew I wanted to be a doctor.
When I knew how she died, I knew that was the kind of doctor I wanted to be.
Everything changed for me after she died.
Life became a lot harder. My dad changed for the worse.
Every day he was drinking. Every day I was blamed for her death.
Every day he was yelling at me for something.
Every now and then he hit me, but he was grieving—that’s what I told myself.
I made excuses for him. I was just a kid, I know that.
Dealing with him changed me as a person.
The moment I could, I left for college and I never looked back. Neither did he.”
I scratch my chin, remembering when he smashed a bottle on the floor and a piece of a glass ricocheted from the force and hit me in the face. I still feel the scar. A small bump. Nothing anyone can notice.
“I’ve kept to myself since then. It was easier than dealing with people’s emotions. I was too tired, too exhausted to hear about anyone else’s hardships. Again, I know how that sounds. I’m a real piece of fucking work, but I had to do what I had to do to move forward in my life.”
“Surviving. You were surviving, Elias. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah, but in doing that, what did I miss out on? I’m forty-three years old and don’t know how to emotionally regulate myself. That’s…that’s so…” I exhale a slow breath. “Sad. It’s sad, that’s all.” I finish off my beer, and the bartender is there with another just like he said he would be.
The lights in the bar become too bright. The conversations beside me become too loud. The condensation of the glass drips down my fingers.
Loud boisterous laughs come from a table of women having the time of their lives. They’re happy, carefree, living exactly the way a person should.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to allow myself that amount of happiness.
“It’s far from sad, Elias. I think it’s the opposite. We’re never too old to learn and grow, to recognize new things about ourselves or the world. You’ve had a good reason for your decisions. I don’t fault for you for that.”
“And now, he’s back, needing a piece of my damn liver because he knew he can’t get on the donor list. He doesn’t have that much time.”
“He would have to be sober for six months.” It dawns on Winston. “He doesn’t have that much time?”
“Dr. Washington said three months, but that’s generous. When I saw him…I’d be surprised if he made it that long.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I got tested. I’m a match. I’m going to give him part of my liver, and I said I was done with him.
That after that, to never contact me again because after being at Warrick General, after meeting so many amazing people, I want happiness for myself.
” It’s the first time I’ve admitted it out loud.
“I want it so bad, Winston. I want happiness. It’s been so long since I’ve allowed myself to experience it and—” I can’t help but smile at the possibilities.
“And I feel like I’m really close to having it if I allow myself.
I’m so close, and I feel like the only way I can do that is if I send my dad on his way with a piece of my liver.
I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t give it to him.
He’d die, and I won’t live with his death on my shoulders too. ”
“Too? There are no deaths on your shoulders, friend. That’s the first thing you need to truly comprehend if you want to move forward.
It doesn’t make you a bad person to draw a boundary for yourself when it comes to your father.
He’s had plenty of chances. If that’s what it takes for you to finally be happy, then do what’s best for you. ”
My shoulders sag with relief. It feels good to get that all off my chest, talking with someone else who isn’t just my own damn thoughts.
I’ve never had a true friend before. It’s different.
Not a bad different, and it will take some adjusting to get used to, but having Winston in my life is a relief.
“Thanks, Winston. That means a lot. Really.”
“It’s no problem. I’m here when you need or want to talk, Elias. That’s a lot to carry on your own and you aren’t on your own anymore.”
I’m not on my own anymore.
That’s something I’ll never get used to.
Winston’s eyes drift over my shoulder and a bright smile graces his face. “Hey, Olivia is here. And she’s on a date!” He taps my shoulder a few times to get me to turn around.
He didn’t have to hit me to get me to move. I’m already turning, looking over my shoulder to see where he’s pointing. Jealousy rears its ugly head in my chest, a burning fire spreading through my veins when I see her with another man.
I have no right to be upset. She isn’t mine.
Yes, she is. She just doesn’t know it yet.
She looks stunning. My eyes trail down her figure, my breath catching in my chest when I see her bright red heels, a gorgeous contrast with the deep purple dress that hugs her body, slipping like silk down her curves and endling mid-calf.
Her long red hair is loosely curled and the side I’m able to see is slipped back, exposing her shoulder. God, she’s fucking beautiful.
“I’m happy she’s dating.”
I squeeze the glass so hard, I’m worried it will shatter. “Oh?”
“Yeah. She works so hard. She’s the best damn assistant I’ve ever had, which is why I needed to promote her before she found a better job.
There’s no way my day-to-day would run smoothly without her.
She’s a good person too. I thought about setting her up with my brother, Wyatt, but he isn’t ready for a woman like her.
She’s always wanted a big family. I know it’s important to her. I want her to have what she wants.”
I want a big family too. I want my house to be full of children’s laughter. I don’t see it in my future, not at my age, yet I still can’t stop myself from wishing for the dream I had so many years ago. Not even my ex-wife could handle how closed off I was.
“How long have you known Olivia?” I ask him.
He shuts his eyes for a second to think.
“Gosh, I don’t even know. She’s been with me for years.
She’s a lifesaver. Seriously, she could run that entire hospital and have everything in order.
Selfishly, I don’t want that to happen. Selflessly, I want her to have that more than anything.
She deserves it. But I don’t think she’s ready just yet. She needs a little more experience.”
An idea dawns on me. “That’s why you gave her a promotion. You’re preparing her for more.”
“I am. I’ll miss her. I’m hoping when that day comes she’ll still be my assistant.
I don’t want anyone else. Hell, by that time, I might retire.
I don’t know. Olivia deserves good things.
She’s a great person, smart, driven, and she’s found what she’s good at here.
I want to help her achieve whatever she wants. ”
“You’re a good boss. Not many would give so much help or direction to their employee.”
His eyes search for her again in the bar, grinning from ear to ear. “She’s like a daughter to me. I mean, I am old enough to be her father.” He chuckles as a caring expression drapes over his features. “I’ll make sure she gets to where she deserves to be. I refuse for her to have anything less.”
I admire Winston Warrick. Not only as a doctor, but the kind of man he is.
My gaze fixates on Olivia, longing to me the man on the other side of that table to appreciate a beauty so magnificent as hers.
Maybe I need to get into dating too. It’s time for me to stop caring so much about certain age gaps. If I like a person, as long as they’re over twenty-five years old, then why should I stop myself from seeing if there’s a real connection?
Reaching into my pocket, I snag my phone and decide to text my mystery woman and hope she isn’t done with me yet.
Me: How’s your night? I’m hoping we can talk.
This time, I’m not going to run away.
I’m going to reach for happiness, and that starts with effort.