Chapter 18
F-OFF, DOCTOR
NAVYA
It’s been months. One would think I’d be over him by now. One would be wrong.
I tried to have a thing with Pierre, but it turns out it’s hard to move on when you’re still hung up on your ex.
The thing people don’t tell you about heartbreak is that it doesn’t explode and disappear.
It settles.
It becomes background noise.
A low hum you learn to live with while you still go to work, still scrub in, still chart vitals, still reassure patients that everything will be fine.
Evan isn’t helping either.
He tries to talk to me in the hallways.
Near the elevators.
Outside the OR.
He’s polite. Professional. Talkative.
“How are you?”
“How was your date with Pierre?”
“I want to talk to you about patient X.”
“Lunch?”
“Can we talk?”
Ultimately, that’s what he wants—to talk. And I don’t want to unless it has to do with work.
I give him nothing.
No smiles.
No softness.
No opening.
Finally, one afternoon, after a shift that has wrung me out down to the bone, he catches up to me near the lockers.
“Navya,” he pleads. “Can we talk?”
I close my locker and turn to him. “Is this about a patient?”
“Navya—”
“Then, Doctor,” I lower my voice, “fuck off.”
He shakes his head. “You can’t spare five minutes?”
“Why should I?”
He grabs my arm, and before I can protest, he steers me into our on-call room.
It’s familiar. The memories rush in uninvited.
I cross my arms, keeping my temper on a tight leash. “Okay. Fine. Talk.”
He leans against the closed door like he’s afraid I’ll bolt. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Frankly, my dear,” I deepen my voice like Rhett Butler, “I don’t give a damn.”
He exhales sharply. “Navya, I’m serious.”
“Seriously sorry?” I quip.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” I shrug. “Is that it?”
His face tightens. “I miss you.”
I let out a brittle laugh. “That sounds like a you problem, Doctor.”
“Are you telling me there’s no part of you that misses our time together? Us?”
His audacity steals the air from my lungs. “You have no business asking me that. You’re the one who told me we were done—and how relieved you were that there wouldn’t be any drama like the last time you were fucking a colleague.”
That hits the target because his expression twists with pain. “Cara—”
“Don’t call me that. You have a fiancée. She’s your cara.”
He takes a breath like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff.
“I don’t call her that. You’re the only one.
” He’s flustered now. I’ve never seen him like this—so unsure, so stripped of his confidence.
“I treated you badly. I see that now. I didn’t show you how much I appreciated you. Those months—we were—”
“Shut up,” I hiss.
He is shocked by my ferocity.
“You’re unbelievable,” I grit out.
“I just—”
“You want to relieve your guilt for treating me like a dirty secret?” I demand.
“I never—”
“Oh, but you did.” I talk right over him.
His jaw tightens. “I know I wasn’t careful with you, cara, and—”
“You definitely weren’t.” The words spill now, sharp and burning. “I heard you. That day. When you dumped me and then fucked me.” I gesture around the room. “Was it this one? Or the other call room?”
He looks like I’ve slapped him.
“In any case,” I continue coolly, “I was at a bar, waiting for Latika. Guess who was sitting in the booth next to mine?”
Confusion flickers—then his face drains of color.
“Oh yes!” I let out a sharp, ugly laugh. “You. And your friend. Talking about me.”
“Navya, I—”
“Let me refresh your memory.”
He shakes his head slowly, eyes wide.
“First, I must thank you for saying that sex with me was great.” I preen a little sarcastically. “Especially considering you were my first.”
He groans, regret etched into every line of his face.
“Oh, just wait,” I say acidly. “It gets better.”
He doesn’t think so because he looks just about ready to have a seizure.
“Your friend mentioned how initiating a virgin isn’t always pleasant.” I continue. “So…thank you for taking me on, relieving me of my condition.”
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You heard—”
“Yes, I did.” I tap my chin like I’m remembering. “I also heard how you said I was sweet and nice, and we had a good time together.” I pause for effect. “But…it was never going to be serious. And to give you credit, Evan, you did tell me that. You had very clear ground rules.”
Now, he closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, they’re filled with emotion.
No! No way, are you softening, Navya, because he has tears in his eyes!
“And then your friend mentioned how wonderful it is for you that now you don’t have to go to all those out-of-the-way restaurants, because with your fiancée you can—”
He steps forward, his hands on my shoulder. “I was protecting our reputations.”
I pull away from him. “No, Doctor, you were hiding your dirty secret. I was convenient and a distraction.”
Guilt, regret, you name every emotion of that nature, and it’s in his eyes and face. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. But not quite. He deserves this.
I was never going to tell him I heard him. Never going to humiliate myself further by revealing that I know how he really feels about me. But right now, when I am letting it all out, I don’t feel as if I am humiliating myself. No, I’m owning myself, and it feels damn good.
“And, in any case, I can’t compete with your fiancée.
She has a fancy business degree, while I couldn’t even afford medical school.
” Now tears prick my eyes. “I told you why I dropped out. How I paid my mother’s medical bills, how I’m taking care of my brother…
and you made me a smaller person for it? ”
“Cazzo,” he whispers. “Cara, I was wrong. Insensitive. Completely wrong.”
“Yes,” I retort. “You were.”
I step around him and open the door.
“Now you know why I don’t want to talk to you. So, get out of my way—and stay out of my life.”