Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Melissa
Itake one last look in the mirror before I leave. I picked a long red dress that accentuates the curves of my body. I decided to put my hair in heat rollers to give some wave and body to it. With the dress being so bold, I opted for my makeup to be more neutral.
I’m not used to dressing up like this. Nursing is not a glamorous career. I feel slightly more exposed and out of place when I dress up.
Tonight’s charity is specifically for the oncology department. The money will come from people who have more than they know what to do with. People who write checks once a year and call it generosity. The staff is invited to make the room feel warmer. More human.
I grab my clutch and hesitate at the door, my hand hovering over the handle. I know who I’m nervous to see.
But this isn’t a date. This isn’t anything.
Still, my pulse says otherwise.
The venue is already busy when I arrive. The music is soft, and laughter is low. Everything appears polished and upscale. It immediately makes me feel like I don’t belong. Like I’m taking up too much space.
My eyes search the room, and I spot a few familiar faces. Trudy catches my eye halfway through her conversation with someone who looks important and lifts her glass in approval.
I smile back softly before I go in search of the bar. The line is adequate, but it is the beginning of the event. Everyone goes straight to the bar for a drink.
As I wait in line, I scan the room. Just to see who’s here, I tell myself, but I know that’s a lie.
I can’t explain how I know I’m getting close before I spot him. It’s like my body is aware before my brain.
Then I see him.
Standing in the corner of the room, talking to a group of people, all who look like they are hanging on every word that he says. He’s polished up in a tux that fits him to perfection.
Of course he cleans up well. Of course he looks like he belongs in a room like this. Still, the sight of him here—effortless, composed, commanding attention without trying—it unsettles me.
This isn’t the man who leans against counters in rolled-up sleeves. This isn’t the doctor who drinks break-room coffee and avoids lingering conversations.
This version of Colton looks unrecognizable to me.
Someone laughs at something he said, and he smiles. It’s easy and confident. I realize I’ve never seen that smile before, and my stomach tenses.
I turn back to the bar to order my drink and stick a five-dollar bill in the tip jar while I wait for my wine. When I turn again, glass in hand, the room feels louder. The lights seem brighter.
A ripple of attention moves through the crowd.
It’s subtle at first. Conversations lower. People begin to angle themselves toward the front of the room. I follow their gaze as a woman steps onto the small stage, microphone in hand.
“Good evening, everyone,” she says warmly. “Thank you for supporting the oncology department and the patients who remind us every day why this work matters.”
A burst of applause follows her words.
I lift my glass, taking a small sip, and look out across the room—until her next words hit.
“Tonight, we’re honored to recognize one of our own. Someone whose leadership within this hospital is matched only by his generosity beyond it.”
My chest constricts like my body already knows who she’s talking about. Her eyes sweep the room.
“Dr. Colton Fisher.”
The applause swells instantly.
I freeze.
Doctor I know. That part isn’t new. But the way people react. The way heads turn. The way smiles sharpen with interest tells me there’s more coming.
“In addition to his role here,” she continues, “Dr. Fisher was an early investor in one of the most successful tech platforms of the last decade. A decision that’s allowed him to give back in extraordinary ways.”
My breath catches. She names the company. I know it. Everyone does. The number she announces next feels unreal, even as the room erupts around me. Cheers. Applause. Admiration.
Colton steps forward, accepting the attention with a nod that’s practiced and calm, like this isn’t the kind of thing that rearranges a person’s understanding of someone.
But it does.
It rearranges mine completely.
I stare at him, my mind scrambling to reconcile the man onstage with the one I know. The man I know barely meets my eyes some days. The one who pulls away like closeness costs him more than he’s willing to give.
This Colton stands tall under the spotlight, composed, powerful. Wealthy in a way I never imagined.
I feel acutely aware of my dress. Of my hands around my glass. Of how small I feel in a room that suddenly seems built for people like him.
It shouldn’t matter.
Money doesn’t change the way he speaks to patients. Or the way his voice softens when delivering hard truths. Or the way his presence fills a room, even when he’s trying to disappear.
And yet … I’ve realized how much of him exists beyond the hospital walls.
As the applause dies down, his gaze lifts as his eyes move about the room.
And then they land on me.
Only for a second, but it’s enough. Surprise flickers across his face. Then something darker replaces it.
The confident smile fades, and in its place is the man I recognize.
He speaks to the room like they are his friends. Probably because they are. I feel so distant from him. I can barely listen to the words coming out of his mouth.
I realize my mind drifted when everyone applauds Colton and he steps offstage.
“There you are.”
Megan’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I turn to her and force a smile. “Here I am.”
“Trudy said she spotted you before. And I must say”—she looks me up and down while fanning her face— “you look ravishing tonight.”
I chuckle awkwardly, not used to this kind of attention. “Stop it. I’m so embarrassed. This dress was all I could afford. It’s nothing compared to what these other women are wearing.”
She shakes her head disapprovingly. “Now you’re being stubborn. Money doesn’t equal beauty. It comes from within, and yours is shining bright tonight.”
Latoya, Tena, and Trudy appear at our side.
“Quite the event, huh?” Trudy smiles. “This evening alone pays for our research and teaching program each year.”
“It’s … incredible,” I reply, the words getting stuck in my throat.
It’s difficult to articulate what I’m feeling at the moment.
“Tena over here has been scanning the crowd for any eligible bachelors,” Latoya says in a mocking tone.
Tena shrugs her shoulders. “Hey, I love my job, but I also love trips to Europe.”
The girls keep my mind occupied just enough as we move around the room before walking the line of items for the silent-auction portion of the fundraising.
There is no reasonable amount these items could possibly go for, so we just enjoy our drinks and chat about which one we would bid on if we had the money.
Then a certain item catches my eye. A vintage bottle of wine. I recognize the torn edges of the label before the words. It looks like it has a history. As a wine lover, I’m driven straight toward it.
I let my fingers brush over the bottle while I read the label.
Barolo.
I’ve read about this wine. It’s known for its incredible ability to age for decades.
How extraordinary is that?
To think of a wine that is so patient. That takes such time to build, but in the end, the payoff is an exquisite wine that sets itself apart from the others.
This is a bottle you save for a reason.
And I don’t have one.
“Mel?” Trudy calls from a few feet away.
I glance over my shoulder. “Coming.”
I look back and hesitate for a second, wishing things in my life were different. Then I join the ladies at the end of the table.