Chapter 12 Olivia #2
“Oh?” I add a small amount of honey to each mug, drop in the tea bags, then pour the hot water. I place a spoon into each, give it a stir, and hand Wyatt two mugs as I grab the last two. “Why won’t he be happy?”
“It changes things. My brother doesn’t like change. Well, not that he doesn’t like change. You know him. He likes what he likes. Change takes him a bit of time. If that makes sense.”
I stop before we reach the end of the hallway. “Hey,” I say in a low whisper.
He turns to look at me, sadness still bowing his brows.
“Do you really think he’s going to care about change when it comes to you? He loves you fiercely, Wyatt. He cares more about you than whatever change is coming.”
The sorrow in his eyes lifts, bringing a small pinch of happiness to his lips.
“Come on.” I nudge him gently with my elbow, careful not to hit him too hard so the hot tea doesn’t spill over my fingers. “Let’s go. The quicker we tackle this, the quicker your life can move forward, yeah?”
“I don’t know how I’ll move forward,” he admits with a tight, grim line of his mouth.
“But you will.” I begin to walk, his shoes still squelching behind me as we stride into Winston’s office.
I set the mugs down on the desk, Wyatt doing the same, and we all grab the one closest to us.
Shutting the door, I hit the button that frosts the glass to give us privacy, and I take a seat.
Wyatt chooses to sit on the couch alone, while his father sits to the right of me in the oversized leather chair that matches my own.
Nothing is said for the first minute, increasing the tension by the ton. I sip my tea, careful not to burn my tongue, hoping someone will put this conversation out of its misery.
“Who died?” Winston finally asks, setting his mug down. “Because someone did. I know that much, with how everyone is acting. Can we get on with it, please?” Winston folds his hands across his stomach, his glare cutting from Wyatt to his father.
I sit like a good assistant, sipping my tea without saying a word.
“Wyatt fell in love with a nurse,” his father begins.
Winston smiles. “Wy, that’s great. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
A tear drops down Wyatt’s face, but he brushes it away. “No one knew. Not until…not until after.”
“Oookay,” Winston says with narrow eyes. “Can someone stop the fucking bullshit and tell me what’s going on before I become impatient?”
“I fell in love with a nurse. Her family is suing, saying there was a conflict of interest because I operated on her and she died on the table. I would never have let my feelings impair my ability to perform surgery. She lost so much blood, Winston.” Wyatt places his mug on the ground and digs the heels of his palms into his hands.
His voice chokes with emotion. “There was too much trauma. She got hit by a car, and I rushed to the hospital as quick as I could—but since I’m affiliated with the private practice, they’re coming after the practice. ”
“They were coming after the practice. I took care of it,” Winston’s father says. “The family agreed to a settlement and also agreed they wouldn’t go to the press.”
“I didn’t kill her,” Wyatt says again. He looks up at us through teary wet lashes.
“I loved her. If anyone wanted to save her more than anyone else, it was me. But there was so much trauma.” He covers his mouth with his hand and chokes out a sob.
“There was nothing I could do. I knew in my heart when I got her on the table that she wasn’t going to make it. ”
Winston stands and rushes to his brother, hauling him into a hard hug. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt. I’m so sorry you lost someone you loved. I’m so sorry.” Winston palms the back of Wyatt’s head and Wyatt clutches onto him like a lifeline, breaking down in his agony again.
Winston Sr. clears his throat and stares up into the fluorescent lights to try to dry his eyes. I let my tears fall freely—I have no need to hide my feelings about how painful and sad this is for Wyatt.
“Why weren’t other doctors at the hospital able to operate?” Winston asks.
“Too many traumas. I was available,” Wyatt answers.
Wyatt is a top-notch trauma surgeon. I truly believe that if he couldn’t save her, then no one could.
Winston Sr. says, “Wyatt will be a surgeon here. He’ll start in six weeks. We’re a level one trauma center and could use more surgeons like him. Winston, you will be moved to chief of medicine. Wyatt will be chief of surgery. All my sons should be working at this hospital anyway.”
“Wait.” Winston stands with an expression I know all too well. He squeezes his brother’s shoulder, then rounds his desk again to meet his father’s eyes. “He will not be chief of surgery. Absolutely not.”
He turns to speak to Wyatt. “Wy, you’re a fantastic surgeon but there are many doctors with more experience than even me who deserve this position.
Dad, if you make him the chief of surgery, you’ll lose the respect of many people in this hospital.
He’ll be the trauma surgeon in the emergency department.
We have a chief of medicine already. I have no want or need to have that job.
I like where I’m at. You know I’m right, Dad.
He can’t just come in here, being as young as he is, and take a job people work their entire lives for. ”
“I agree,” Wyatt says. “I don’t want a leadership position. I just want to operate. That’s it.”
Winston Sr. lets out a huff. “Fine. Waylon will be coming to the hospital too. Pediatrics. The entire family will be here. Like they should be. End of story. Also, as of today, the Warrick Medical Group is now owned by my three sons. I’m officially retired.”
“What!” Winston bellows.
My eyes dart from man to man to man, trying to keep up with their conversation. I think they might have forgotten about me, actually. That’s fine. I have nothing to say. Yet. Hopefully, never.
“I’m old. I’m tired. My sons are young with energy.
It’s not like you three don’t run it as it is.
Now, it’s official.” He yawns, using his cane as leverage to push himself to stand.
“We will be paying for all funeral expenses, Wyatt. Of course.” He shuffles closer to his youngest son, cupping his face.
“My boy. I hate that you are in pain. Love does that. It hurts.”
“So much,” Wyatt whispers, another fresh tear falling down the curve of his cheek. He rubs his chest to relieve the ache. “I want it to stop.”
His father pats his cheek. “No, no, you don’t. Don’t ever hope the ache away, my boy. That’s how you know it was worth it. I’m proud of you. I’m sorry you lost who you loved.” He bends down and kisses the top of Wyatt’s head. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad. I’m…I’m sorry. That you had to pay for the mistake I made. I shouldn’t have operated on her.”
“You did what anyone would have done. I saw her medical report, Wyatt. The family could have tried to sue, but they wouldn’t have won. I only settled with them because of their grief. It gave them relief somehow. Don’t blame yourself. It’s a darkness that’s very hard to come back from.”
Wyatt doesn’t say anything. He slouches back onto the couch, sinking into the cushions. He probably wishes he could disappear.
I can’t imagine how he feels. What a horrible, traumatic way to lose someone.
Winston Sr. turns to me. “It was nice meeting you, Olivia. You must have a lot of patience to work for my son.” He slaps Winston on the shoulder. “He can be maddening, can’t he?”
“Just a little.” I pinch my thumb and index finger together, keeping the tiniest bit of space between them. I make sure to send Winston a wink, so he knows I’m kidding. He’s the best person to work for. I couldn’t be happier.
“I’ll walk you out, Dad. Wyatt, are you staying?” Winston asks, opening the door for his father.
“Yeah, if that’s okay?”
“Of course. Let me walk Dad out. I’ll be back.” Winston grabs his father’s arm, helping to steer him in the right direction.
I take my phone out, debating if I should message Mr. Wrong Number. But I already know I’m going to.
Even though Wyatt is in so much pain from missing the woman he loves, I know he will get another chance at romance. He’s too good of a man. His soul his just…good.
Dr. Carrington might not be the one who’s meant for me, but maybe my mystery man is. All I know is that I want the ache. I want the pain. I want it to be worth it.
And I can’t do that if I don’t try.
Me: Hey, how’s your day going? I miss talking to you.
It’s the truth. My days aren’t the same without talking to him. It’s time to try. If I want what I’ve always pictured for myself, the only way that can happen is if I put in the effort. Dating these guys off the apps isn’t working, but maybe texting the wrong number is what I needed all along.
All I know is that I want the ache.
And I want him to give it to me.