Twenty-eight
Greyson
I ’m staring at the ceiling, as I have been for some time, when my alarm sounds. The bed feels so empty without Trinity. It’s time to face the day, yet I can’t remember closing my eyes last night. Coffee is going to be my lifesaver. Fortunately, there’s no emergency shift to tackle, just a staff meeting, which requires my presence, but not necessarily my attention.
Why the hell hasn’t Trinity called? There’s an ache I can’t shake. I tell myself it’s just the silence, but it’s more than that. It’s the way her absence feels like a piece of me has gone missing, leaving only the emptiness of what I didn’t say when I had the chance.
After the meeting, where I managed to nod and smile at the right moments, I drift back home. The condo feels too quiet, which is saying something for a man who’s typically relished silence. That’s when Kingston shows up, entering my living room with that all-too-familiar look of concern on his face .
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” I lie, because admitting anything else feels like opening Pandora’s box. “What’s up?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You missed Sunday dinner. And Tarryn mentioned something about your girlfriend having a run-in with Anita and hightailing it back to Vancouver yesterday.”
His words hit like a sledgehammer. Hearing someone else recount my life back to me makes it more real, more final. I keep my face neutral, though. I can’t let Kingston see the turmoil underneath.
“Trinity had to handle some stuff back in Vancouver for her work,” I say with a nonchalance I don’t feel. I rise and lean against the cool glass of the window, staring into the evening sky.
“We all think Trinity is a catch,” he presses. “She must have become pretty special to you.”
A ghost of a smile flickers across my lips. “Yeah, I like her,” I admit. “Anita had no right to boot her out like that.” My fingers curl into fists at the thought.
“How did Anita get into your place, anyway?”
“She had a key fob she never gave back. It’s been so long that I’d forgotten.”
“Where is Anita now?” He looks around my condo.
“I assume she’s at her parents’, but I don’t know.” I return to the couch and devote my attention to the sports channel.
“Why do you think Trinity didn’t stand up to Anita and tell her off?”
There’s an edge to Kingston’s question that digs at me.
Looking away, I let out a long breath. “We had an understanding. She was here for her mom, and when the time came for her to return to Vancouver, we’d be done. And I never said anything to her about Anita, so for all she knew, maybe I had been hiding a fiancée this whole time.” I scrub my hand over my face.
“Her mom’s still here, isn’t she?”
I nod slowly. “She is. She’s at Lakeview now in the memory care unit.”
“Man, that’s tough.” Kingston moves to the kitchen and makes himself an espresso. “So, what’s the deal? Is that it? Are you in love with her?”
I sit silently, watching the muted television. Kingston just waits for me to respond.
“I feel more than I should,” I confess. “But in love? No way. I don’t fall in love.”
“Didn’t you love Anita?” he probes, his stare unsettlingly perceptive.
Shaking my head, I chuckle without humor. “Thought I did. But when she left for Toronto, it didn’t faze me. Not really.”
“And Trinity heading back to Vancouver? How does that feel?” he persists, pushing me into a corner.
My shrug is meant to be dismissive, but instead, it’s heavy, loaded with unspoken truths. Silence stretches between us as I battle with the honesty I owe myself.
I watch Kingston stride to the window and look out at the view. “I was in love with Cara,” he muses, tilting the espresso cup to his lips. “When she left to go to London, I told her I’d go with her. I would have moved Renew Motion wherever she wanted to live. But she told me the only person she wanted to go with her was Mark.”
His best friend. I can’t even comprehend that kind of betrayal.
But our situations aren’t the same. “Easy for you to say,” I scoff, my temper short. “You’ve got your own company and work from home. You’re not tied down.”
Kingston sets his cup on the counter with a clatter, confusion knitting his brows together. “But there are hospitals in Vancouver, right?”
“Of course.” I sound defensive. The fabric of the couch bunches under my fingers as I grip it tighter. “Hospitals are everywhere. But this—” I gesture to the view of Paradise outside my windows. “—is where my job is. And our family.”
“Greyson, man…” He shakes his head. “Your job’s not tethered to this town alone. And we’re family regardless of where you live.”
Why is everyone so quick to leave Paradise? We’ve spent eight generations in this town.
Ryker and Kingston’s words band together and echo in my head, pressing against the wall I’ve built. The truth is there, staring me down, but I can’t let it win. Not yet.
Kingston sits on the couch next to me. “Seriously. What’s the difference if you’re an ED doc here or in Vancouver?” His eyes are sharp, probing for a crack in my defenses.
I avoid his gaze. “Not much,” I admit. “Bigger population out there, might be more exciting. Probably fewer accidents with farm equipment.” A bitter laugh escapes me.
He chuckles. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to miss all the tractor rollovers.”
“Ha-ha,” I shoot back.
“Why not go there for a bit?” he suggests. “See how things might turn out with Trinity?”
The image of her face, bright and smiling, flits across my mind, and I push it away. “And leave Tarryn without any backup at the vineyard? Skip out on family dinners? Just abandon my condo?” The words tumble out, a litany of excuses masking my fear.
Kingston rolls his eyes, the gesture so familiar it almost eases the tightness in my chest. “C’mon, the family will survive. It’s not like you can’t drive or fly back whenever you want.” He pauses, giving me a pointed look. “Hell, I’ll swoop in with the chopper if you’re that desperate to have dinner with us.”
I can’t suppress the snort that follows, imagining Kingston landing on some downtown street just to ferry me home. The absurdity of it lightens the conversation, but the weight of his words lingers.
“You can always move back. Paradise General will always take you.”
I rise and retrieve a beer from the fridge, then lean against the kitchen counter while Kingston moves to the barstool across from me. He’s all casual confidence, a stark contrast to the restless energy I’m trying to suppress.
“Business going good?” I ask, hoping to steer our conversation away from my turbulent thoughts.
Kingston nods. “It’s moving. Got a couple of patents pending on the new knee replacement devices,” he says. “We have more orders for the knee lined up than we can get made.”
“Sounds like a big deal.” I try to sound enthusiastic, but it falls flat.
“It is. Scheduled two surgeries next month. They’ll be recorded, used for demos. Maybe I’ll be a YouTube influencer…” He grins with a twinkle in his eye.
“Must be nice, creating something that changes lives.” I admire that about him, the way he makes his mark, tangible and vital.
“Speaking of changing lives…” His voice trails off as he glances at the clock on the wall. “I should get going. I don’t want to fly in at night.” He pushes himself up with an ease that makes me envious of his unburdened conscience.
“Right. Safe flying,” I say, but he’s already heading for the door, a man forever in motion.
He waves as the elevator doors close, and I find myself pacing the same path he just walked, back and forth, back and forth, until on a sudden whim, I snatch my phone from the coffee table and dial Griffin Martin’s number. Griffin and I were in residency together, and if there were any openings in Vancouver, he would know.
Griffin answers almost before it rings. “Could this be Paradise?” He launches into “Almost Paradise” from the Footloose soundtrack.
“Good to hear your singing hasn’t improved,” I note.
“What’s happening, man? You going to speak at another MedTalk? ”
“Naw. I’m actually wondering if you’ve heard of any ED spots open up your way.”
“Hmmm…interesting,” he says. “My boss is a great guy. I’d be happy to introduce you. We’re always looking for new blood.”
Griffin’s suggestion pulls me toward possibilities I hadn’t let myself consider. “Thanks, I will let you know. I need to move a few things around on my schedule first. I’m not sure of anything yet.”
“Great. Well, just say the word, and while I have you, you can be one of the first to know. Tori is pregnant.”
I laugh, and the sound is surprisingly genuine. “That’s amazing news! Congrats, man!”
“Thanks,” Griffin replies. “We’re over the moon about it.”
“Is Tori going to keep working after the baby arrives?” I ask.
He sighs. “We’re not sure yet. The biggest issue is our living situation. Our condo on False Creek isn’t exactly kid-friendly, you know? But we love living in the middle of everything and close to the hospital.”
“Planning on a hockey team, are you?” I chuckle, trying to imagine Griffin, once the most eligible bachelor at med school, as a family man.
Griff laughs too, but it’s tinged with a bit of anxiety. “No, no twins or triplets. But we do want a few little ones running around eventually.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m thrilled for you. And thanks for offering to connect me with your hospital. I’ll figure out my schedule and see how things feel.”
Even as I say it, I wonder what I’d be leaving behind and if Trinity’s world will ever truly fit with mine.
“Great. Let’s set it up. And Greyson? It’s good to hear you’re considering a change. Sometimes, that’s exactly what we need.”
“Thanks.” I end the call and sink back into my chair, staring at the ceiling. For the first time since Trinity left, excitement flutters in my chest, a tentative bird testing its wings. I can always move back.
And maybe Kingston was right. Maybe this is just what it will take to get Trinity back.
I glance at the clock, its hands inching toward dinner time. The silence of my phone mocks me. There’s still no word from Trinity. But she’s probably swamped with her project going live, I realize. She really did have a reason she was returning to Vancouver. I should give her space, but I can’t help myself. I miss her.
With a resigned sigh, I pull out my phone and open the meal-delivery app. My fingers move with purpose as I scroll through the options, selecting the salad similar to the one we shared last time at Paradise Grill. She loved it.
Hope this isn’t as good as ours , I type in the notes section. But you need to eat. And…I miss you . There’s so much more I want to say, but I leave it at that. My thumb hovers over the send button as I picture her smile. In the end, I order it to be delivered to her at the hospital in Vancouver.
I toss the phone aside and unmute the TV. TSN sports highlights roll across the screen, a litany of victories, defeats, and near-misses. I’m only half-watching, my thoughts lost in a whirlpool of what-ifs and maybes. Every so often, I check the app, following the virtual progress of the salad from the restaurant to the delivery service.
When the notification pops up that the meal’s been delivered, a small sense of accomplishment washes over me. At least I’ve done something for her today, even if it’s just ensuring she doesn’t skip dinner. I lean back into the couch and let the endless loop of sports fill the room, a familiar backdrop to an unfamiliar restlessness.
Then my ringtone slices through the haze of sports stats and commentator banter. The screen says North Vancouver General Hospital. It’s her . I snatch up the phone, my heart kicking against my ribs.
“Greyson,” she breathes when I answer, and just like that, the room feels less empty.
“Trinity.” I revel in the sound of her voice. “Did you get the salad?”
“Thank you for dinner,” she says, her tone warm. “I left my cell phone at my mom’s place on my way out of Paradise. I ordered a new one. It should be here tomorrow.”
“Ah, that explains the silence.” My attempt at lightness doesn’t fully mask the relief flooding through me.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. And I got your message at work. Thank you for that. I’ve been thinking about how I want to respond, but it’s been crazy with the project launch.”
“Understandable.” I lean back, imagining what she might look like in her office.
“I’m really glad we’re reconnected, Greyson.” Her voice softens. “My days will be long until we go live next weekend, so maybe we can talk and catch up properly after that. Sound okay?”
“Sounds good, Trinity. I’d like that.” I try to keep my tone even, but there’s a hopeful edge to it.
“Okay then, goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” And she’s gone.
I drop the phone beside me, a smile on my lips. I suddenly feel warmer in the cold places her absence has carved out. I think there’s still a chance for us. She’s going to come back to me, even if it’s just her voice on the line for now.