Chapter 23
GRANT
Owl Cove High School holds reunions every five years for its graduates. And apparently, if it’s not one of the biggies, like ten, twenty-five, or fifty years, you don”t get anything as glamorous as a weekend evening.
So my fifteenth high school reunion is held on a Wednesday night. Which can”t be great for turnout, but it”s not like I have something else going on tomorrow.
That nagging in the back of my head reminds me that in a week, I will have things going on. Cutting it close to the wire, Sirona, her grandma, and I will be doing the spell on my hand on Saturday. Assuming it works, and I have no reason to doubt Sirona”s skills, on Sunday I drive back to Chicago.
Monday is the Fourth of July, and, since I cancelled my surgery for the seventh, Tuesday I”ll start my last year of surgical residency with the resident class that was previously a year behind me. All my friends graduated, and most have left Chicago for fellowships in other cities. I know people in the class that was behind me, of course, but it”s not the same.
It sort of feels like I”m starting all over. And it”s happening so fast.
I don”t even let myself think about leaving Sirona. It”s going to be the hardest thing I”ve ever done in my life.
I park my car in the school parking lot, hurry around the hood, and offer her my hand to help her out. She doesn”t need it, but I love having an excuse to touch her. Any excuse.
She gives me a soft, beautiful smile. ”Thanks.”
When she stands, I can”t stop myself from giving her another once over. As if I didn”t visually devour her when I picked her up.
She”s wearing a flowy purple dress—dressy but still very her. The front dips low enough to tease, but not enough to reveal. The perfect amount to make my mouth water. A silver chain with a Celtic knot charm is around her neck, and it”s the only jewelry she”s wearing. Her hair flows down her back in shining waves, begging for me to tangle my fingers in them so I can pull her in for a kiss. If she”s wearing makeup, it”s subtle.
Controlling myself, I press a kiss to her temple. ”Once again, you look amazing tonight.”
Her smile deepens, which makes me smile. I love making her smile.
”Thank you.”
She laces our fingers together and I lift them to my lips, pressing a kiss to the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Then we head toward the side entrance to the school, near the gym where this is being held. Again, if you come for one of the bigger reunion years, the event is held at Witching Hour Winery or Witches Brew Brewery (Owl Cove does love its witch theme). But off years get the gym.
I”m determined to have a good time tonight. On the drive over, we agreed no talking about me leaving. At least not between us. It will inevitably come up with other people. But we”re not talking about it deliberately. We”re focusing on being together in the moment.
The gym is arranged much like it was for dances back in high school. At the far end of the room, a DJ is set up, blasting music popular fifteen years ago. Refreshment tables and a small portable bar are along the wall. Half the room, next to the DJ, is empty, presumably so we can make fools of ourselves by dancing. The other half is dotted with high-top tables. People, some of whom I recognize, mill around with food and drink, talking. The lights are dim and there”s a half-assed attempt at generic party store decorations.
Our class president, whose name escapes me, is sitting at a table near the door. The table is covered with name tags.
”Grant Humphries! So good to see you. I”d heard you”re in town.” She grins her bubbly class president grin. ”And Sirona!”
”Margaret, hi. Good to see you.”
Margaret cocks her head to the side and frowns. ”I could have sworn you were a year behind us.”
Sirona smiles blandly. ”Two. I”m here with Grant.”
She raises her eyebrows with a knowing look. ”I see.”
Please save me from the high school gossips.
I scan the name tags but don”t find Tyler”s. He must be here already.
Margaret hands Sirona a blank name tag and a marker, and Sirona quickly writes her name. She and I both stick the labels on our chests. It looks incredibly out of place on Sirona”s sexy dress. I”m in my dressier pair of khakis and a navy-blue button-down shirt; the name tag looks fine on me.
We bid Margaret goodbye and walk farther into the gym. I scan the room, looking for familiar faces.
I”m honestly not sure why I even came to this. Back when I originally RSVP”d, before my accident, there was ego in it. I wanted everyone in my class to know how much I”ve achieved, that I was a surgeon. Because if all had gone to plan, I would have been one by now.
Instead of getting to gloat like an asshole, I”m down on my luck, behind where I wanted to be.
I glance over at Sirona, and suddenly none of that matters. I”ve got hope about my hand. And she gave that to me. She knows what it means for us, and if she wanted, she could have never told me about this possibility. She could have kept me here longer.
And maybe she doesn”t actually want to. Maybe she”s good with things ending how we always said they would. But I also know she”s just not that selfish.
I wish she would tell me what it is she has to sacrifice to do this spell. But when I ask, she brushes it off. It”s not a big deal. Just some energetic stuff. I know it”s more than that, and I want to make it up to her somehow. But she won”t let me.
Maybe I”m here tonight simply to show off Sirona. To have a taste of what life would be if we could be together.
”Hey, man. How”s it goin”?” Tyler approaches us. He and I shake hands, then pull in and do a guy half-hug thing.
”Hey.”
”Good to see you, Sirona.” He smiles with a questioning look on his face.
After an awkward pause, she says, ”I don”t think we”re on hugging terms yet. Are we?”
He laughs. ”No, don”t think so.”
The three of us chat about nothing as we make our way to the bar. Sirona gets the seasonal sour cherry beer they have on tap. Tyler and I both get bottles of lager. We find a table and stand around it, continuing to talk about nothing.
It”s there, in the air. The unspoken proverbial elephant, if not in the room, at least at the table. In a few days, I”m leaving my best friend—again—and my girlfriend. Who the hell knows when I”ll even be able to get home again to see Tyler? And likely do my best to avoid running into Sirona, because the only way I”ll get over her is a clean break.
My chest aches with the thought. I don”t want to get over her. I want to be with her. This is an impossibly unfair choice. The woman I love or the career I”ve worked my ass off for since I was fifteen.
”Grant? You there?”
I come out of my head to find both of them staring at me.
”I”m sorry. I missed that. What?”
”I asked if your friend Leslie is still in Chicago?” Tyler says.
”Uh, yeah. She”s the only person left who I know even a little.” Fortunately, she took a fellowship at the same hospital I”ll be at. So I”ll have one friend.
”Leslie?” Sirona raises her eyebrows at me.
I put my arm around her shoulder and pull her close to my side. ”Yes, Leslie. We went to med school together, and residency. She makes sure I don”t work too hard. And I make sure she gets home to her wife at a reasonable time.”
Her smile is a little sheepish. Does it make me an asshole that I like the idea of her being jealous of Leslie?
Hank and Kelsey arrive at our table with drinks of their own. Hank was in our class, though I barely knew him until he started dating my sister after college.
Kelsey squeezes my arm. ”Hey! Wasn”t sure if you two would end up coming or not.”
I bend down and kiss her cheek. ”And miss Kelsey out on the town without the kid? Never.”
She laughs. ”Yeah, like I”m going to party so hard here.”
Conversation flows around me, and I feel truly like part of a group I belong to in a way I haven”t in years. There was a group of us in the dorms in college, but it wasn”t quite the same. And once we all moved to off-campus housing, we lost touch. But this group, my best friend, my sister and brother-in-law, the woman I love? This is the real deal. This is forever stuff.
Except that, with Sirona, it”s not.
In this moment, this is everything that feels like has been missing from my life for so long.
And in four days, I”m walking away from it all.
SIRONA
”So, why surgery?” I trace my finger over the line of Grant”s pectoral muscle, teasing him with my fingernail. ”Why a doctor?”
The reunion is over, and I could tell he had a good time. He was so at ease, being with his friends and family. We didn”t mingle much, mostly just talked with Hank, Kelsey, and Tyler. All of whom I intend to spend more time with, even after Grant”s gone.
Which is probably foolish. I should probably make a complete break from things that connect me to him. But I don”t think I”ll be able to do it. At least not right away.
After the reunion, we came back to my house, watched a movie, and inevitably ended up in bed. Now we”re snuggling, naked and satiated. I love these afterglow moments with him almost as much as the sex itself.
He pulls in a deep breath and holds it. After a long moment of me waiting, he releases it. ”I love the puzzle of medicine. And I”ve always enjoyed science. Took anatomy in high school and fell in love. Decided I needed to work with human bodies. I thought I”d be a general practitioner, maybe even come back to Owl Cove and set up a practice.”
He chuckles and tickles my waist a little. ”We could”ve had a place together. I do the modern medicine, you do the magical healing.”
It”s startling how easily my mind paints a picture from his words. I can see us in a small clinic, working side by side to treat patients from both angles. Something I feel both modern medicine and my approach are lacking.
”I like that idea,” I say, since just for the moment, I want to pretend it could happen.
He kisses my temple. ”Me too.” His voice is soft and tender and makes me ache.
He”s silent so long I”m not sure he”s going to answer the other part of my question. It was a long day at work, and then the reunion. It has to be after midnight. My eyelids flutter open and shut.
”Surgery was more my dad”s idea.”
My eyes open and I tilt my head so I can see his face. ”Yeah?” I thought he loved what he”s doing. That it was his passion. Not his dad”s.
He rolls his eyes. ”When I told him I wanted to be a doctor, he was real proud of that. Not much I did was good enough for him, but that was. So when he told me surgery was the way to go, the way to get prestige and break new ground, I listened. Anything to make him proud. Almost everything I did after that was with a mind to going to med school, then doing surgery. I once made the mistake of telling my mom I also sort of liked the idea of doing general practice, and she told my dad. He yelled at me that I lacked ambition and would be throwing away all the opportunities he gave me that he never had.”
I look away so he won”t see my wince. I never met his dad when we were in school, and I”m pretty glad I didn”t.
The obvious question is why did he still do surgery after his dad died and wasn”t around to push him? But I don”t ask. I can feel the tension in Grant”s muscles and I”m not going to prod him further.
”After a while, I got used to the idea of doing surgery. And I got swept up in the ego of it. You know how surgeons have a reputation for being arrogant? I kinda did that.”
”You?” I feign surprise, trying to lighten things a bit. ”Never.”
He gives my ass a gentle tap. ”Hush.” There”s laughter in his voice, so my little joke did its job.
”And like I said, I like the puzzle of medicine. Surgery definitely has its puzzles. It”s just...”
His unfinished sentence hangs there, a weighty tension in the room.
It”s just he”s not happy.
I don”t know where in the room Koko is, and I don”t feel a need to tell Grant she”s joined the conversation. So I ignore her.
I tilt my head up to look at him, and cup his cheek to make him look at me. ”It”s just what?”
His dark gaze is serious as he answers. ”It”s just there”s so much I don”t have in Chicago.” His hand comes up and strokes my cheek. ”So much I can”t take with me, or don”t have time for.”
My chest swells, aching with love for him. I don”t want him to leave. But of course I can”t say that. He would never choose me over this career he”s wanted for so long.
”So much I give up.” His voice is barely a whisper as he looks into my eyes. There”s so much emotion there; dare I hope some of it is love?
Not that it matters.
One tear rolls down the side of my nose, then another. A few more. He catches them with his thumb and wipes them away, but more well up to take their place.
”Sirona. I hate that I”m making you cry.”
I shake my head. ”It”s not you. It”s... circumstances. It”s everything.”
He”s not happy being a surgeon. Tell him you love him. Maybe he”ll stay.
Damn cat. I want to yell at her that now is not the time, but I also don”t want to disturb this intimacy between me and Grant.
He kisses me more gently than he ever has before. His lips worship me, make impossible promises I know can”t come true. And I kiss him back with those same promises.
If only things were different.
We kiss like that endlessly. Neither one of us moves to take it farther. This isn”t about sex. This is about how deeply we care for each other. How deeply I”ve fallen in love with him in such a short time.
Eventually, I pull back the tiniest bit. ”Did you ever think about changing specialties, after your accident?” I don”t know why I need to ask this question, but I do.
He presses his lips to my forehead, brushing kisses over my skin as he answers. ”Not really. I”d have to start a whole new residency. Start over, basically. I just wanted to focus on fixing my hand and finishing what I started.”
I can only nod. It makes sense. It all makes perfect sense. But it still hurts so much. I”m struggling to stay in the moment, enjoy that I”m here with him now.
What would happen if I did tell him I love him? Would it make a difference?
It”s ridiculous to even consider it. I don”t want him to stay just for me and end up resenting giving up his career for me. Maybe he would ask me to move to Chicago with him, but I can”t do that either. Even if I”m not happy working at Goode Witches, my entire life is here. My family is here. My community. They”re too integral a part of me.
They”re as much a part of me as being a surgeon is a part of Grant.
”I wish...” My words trail off, because everything I”m wishing is beyond possibility.
His voice is achingly sad when he says, ”I know. Me too.”