36
Present, Columbus, Ohio
Not talking to Ethan doesn’t make me feel any better. I robotically move through my day, going through the motions. When I interact with the staff, I’m cool and remote. At lunch, I eat by myself rather than at the table where Melanie and a large group of residents sit. Back to my default ice queen status. Glumly, I imagine placing a crown of icicles and thorns on my head.
The only thing that makes the day bearable is knowing that tomorrow I’ll leave this place. It’s time to go to the big annual American College of Advanced Radiology conference in Orlando, Florida. This year, the conference organizers have requested me as a guest speaker. It’s rare for a resident to be asked to give a lecture, so I remind myself to double check that the renal tumor staging is accurate this time. I can’t make a mistake. No Ethan will be around to correct…or embarrass me.
The best part about the conference is that it includes free Disney theme park tickets. Lectures end every day at 3:00 p.m., leaving plenty of time to check out the parks in the evening. Ever since I was a child watching cartoon movies and snuggling on the couch with my mom, I’ve dreamed of going to Disney World. Before, I couldn’t afford it, but now I can go because the Medical Education Department pays for the conference entrance fees.
All I need to pay for is the airfare and hotel. I lucked out and found a cheap flight. The hotel room was a splurge, even with the discounted conference room rate, but it was worth it because it saved me from having to rent a car. It’s the hotel where the conference is being held and has hourly buses leaving to take guests to the parks. I had hoped I would get the Resident of the Month award with its $1,000 bonus, but they haven’t announced the winner yet. I’ll have to pinch pennies and cover the cost on my own.
The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Now I won’t have to worry about seeing Ethan for an entire week.
···
“Flight 1312, please prepare for boarding.” The airline agent’s voice crackles through the speaker directly above my head. I sigh with relief. My flight is on time. I shouldn’t worry since my presentation isn’t until the middle of the week, but I don’t want to miss a single day in the amusement parks.
The straps of my backpack dig into my shoulders as I board the plane. I shift it, adjusting the heavy bag. It’s weighed down by my laptop and several romance books. The flight is packed. Angry babies wail as I walk by, their tight-lipped parents trying desperately to calm them. When I finally locate my seat, I’m disappointed to find it’s on the aisle. Longingly, I gaze at the empty window seat. I hoped to sit there so I could watch take-off and landing.
I’ve only been on an airplane once before, when I moved from Las Vegas to Ohio. I still remember when the plane broke through the clouds. The way those gauzy wisps tore apart and then recoalesced. Too bad the human heart can’t be punctured and then repatched so easily.
A thin man in a shabby black suit sits in the middle. I offer him my most friendly smile as I settle in next to him. He doesn’t return the gesture. In fact, the man scowls at me.
Geez, Middle Man. What’s your problem?
Ignoring him, I bring out my latest romance book. I’ve been looking forward to a couple of hours of uninterrupted reading. Hopefully, focusing on other people’s love lives will keep my mind off Ethan.
When I’ve read about five pages, a body jostles against my legs as the passenger with the window seat attempts to climb over me. A heavy foot stomps on my toes. I let out a yip of pain, looking up angrily to see warm amber eyes staring down at me.
“I’m sorry,” says Ethan. “Did I step on you?”
My mouth gapes open.
What the hell?
Ethan takes his place by the window. His ridiculously long legs don’t fit the tight space, so his knees end up jammed against the seatback in front of him. It doesn’t look comfortable, but I refuse to feel sympathy for him.
I lean forward, bending around Middle Man, and hiss loudly, “What are you doing here?”
Middle Man’s head snaps toward me as he frowns with confusion and disapproval. “Do you two know each other?”
I say “no” at the same time that Ethan says “yes,” which only deepens Middle Man’s consternation.
“Well? Why are you here?” I demand again.
A subdued but calm Ethan leans forward, peering around Middle Man so he can meet my eyes. He whispers back, “I called Washburn yesterday and asked if I could go to the conference, told him I needed the continuing medical education credits. I wasn’t sure if he’d say yes with such short notice.”
A million questions run through my mind. “When did you get here? I didn’t see you at the gate.”
“I just found out that Washburn approved my request. By the time I packed and drove here, I was running late. I had to sprint through the entire airport. They closed the gate right behind me.” Ethan wipes away a fine sheen of sweat from his brow.
The dream of a peaceful and relaxing flight evaporates in front of me. Now that the shock at seeing Ethan is wearing off, my anger comes raging back.
I glare at him. “Are you paying Dr. Washburn or something? How do I keep getting stuck with you?”
My voice rises higher in volume, earning a dirty look from Middle Man.
“I’m not paying him, but I probably should be.” Ethan returns my look. “Anyway, I told you several times already that you’re stuck with me.”
“What does that even mean?” I clench my jaw in frustration.
Middle Man listens to our conversation with a sour expression. His annoyed stare shifts from my face to Ethan’s. The fasten seat belt light dings overhead and illuminates.
Evading my question, Ethan narrows his eyes at me. “How about you tell me why you’re mad at me. Let’s start with that.”
“I’m not mad at you. That would imply that I care, which I don’t.”
The plane taxis down the runway. Middle Man bends forward to open his bag at his feet. He blocks my view of Ethan, so I lean back to see around him. Ethan moves back as well and says, “Liar, you care so much that your face is turning the same shade as your hair. Talk to me. Tell me what I did wrong.”
I take a sharp intake of breath, seething. “Don’t you call me a liar.” I’m gripping the metal armrest, my knuckles white. I’m so angry. My blood is boiling with it. “Ugh! I want to punch your stupid, handsome face right now.”
“Punch away. It won’t stop me from looking at you.” Ethan sets his jaw, determination flaring in his amber eyes. Then that expression shifts into a small, satisfied smirk. He adds, “You just admitted I’m handsome.”
Gah!He’s infuriating! Don’t let him distract you with those pretty eyes and even prettier words, I remind myself. Another set of eyes, another pretty mouth full of lies, had fooled me in the past.
Middle Man clears his throat loudly as if to remind us he’s still there. At the front of the plane, the airline attendants demonstrate how to use a seat belt. “Hey. Do you mind?” Middle Man addresses me. “If you two need to talk, I can switch with you.”
“No, thanks,” I sniff. “No need to change seats.” Still holding on to my fury, I glare at Ethan while answering Middle Man’s question. “Besides, that man is the last person I want to sit with.”
Ethan brushes aside my insult. He’s relentless, wanting me to explain myself. “It’s because I didn’t call, isn’t it?”
“How about you?” Middle Man asks Ethan. “Do you want to switch?” Ethan doesn’t even glance in his direction. His eyes are only for me.
I can’t hold back any longer. The memory of checking my phone every ten minutes to see if he’d called, of sleeping with it on the pillow next to my head, all comes rushing back. “Yes! I’m mad you didn’t call. It was five days, Ethan. Five days!” I want to scream at him, to rage, but I can’t with all these people around. My hands ball into tight fists.
Ethan blows out an anguished breath and runs his hands through his hair. “I knew it was a lot up in Cleveland. I thought you might need some time alone, some space. The last thing I want is to overwhelm you and make you run, Tiffy.”
Middle Man twists in his seat, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. The pilot’s voice comes through the loudspeaker and instructs the airline attendants to prepare for departure.
“Stop it. That’s not my name,” I snap.
Ethan continues as if he didn’t hear me. “Has it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, I hoped you would call me? Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s scared, the only one with something to lose.” His hand comes up to rub the small scar in his eyebrow.
I see it then, a crack in his easygoing, charming exterior. I see Ethan’s insecurity. His fear of failure. The puzzle pieces slide into place. He thinks he failed his family by not living up to their expectations. That he failed his teammates when he got hurt and quit baseball. That he failed the staff at Highview Hospital when he changed residencies and moved to Columbus.
For whatever reason, he’s making an effort to be closer to me, and he’s frightened of failing at that, too. I’m still mad that he didn’t call, but now I understand it better. After all, I didn’t call him either. I was too busy being a coward.
A well of sadness rises in me. I hate this. Hate fighting with him. I’m so damn tired of being angry, wary, and frightened. Tired of looking over my shoulder. It’s exhausting. The only time I didn’t feel that way was when I was with Ethan. I need that relief again, the calm he provides.
“You know what? There’s an empty seat in that row over there. I’m going to go.” Disgruntled, Middle Man gathers his things together. He stumbles over my foot as he leaves. That’s the second time someone has stepped on my foot in less than ten minutes. I’m not sure which hurts worse, my toes or my heart.
Ethan moves into the newly vacated middle seat. In a softer voice, he says, “I’m sorry. I should have called sooner. Sometimes I overthink things. Make it more complicated than it needs to be. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
The plane picks up speed, its nose rising in the air as we lift off. The force presses Ethan and me into the cushions. Ethan’s apologetic, open-palmed hand moves slowly toward me. I watch his advancing hand suspiciously, like it’s a venomous snake, ready to strike and bite. He settles on top of my clenched fist. His fingers intertwine themselves into mine, pushing my fingers apart one by one until my hand relaxes.
It’s like a miracle, his hand holding mine.
“You know why I asked to come to the conference?” Ethan’s staring at me intently, his gaze searching my face.
I think I know the answer, but I’m too scared to say it.
What if I’m wrong?
“Why?” I ask instead.
“You. I’m here for you. I followed you.” His fingers tighten around mine. More softly, he says, “I can’t keep my eyes off you. That’s why I’m here. I want a chance, Tiffy. Give it to me.” Staring at me with those light liquid eyes, he pleads, he demands.
Unblinking, I stare back because, if I’m really being honest with myself, I can’t take my eyes off him either.
We stay like that, our gaze and hands locked together for a long minute, until he says, “Let’s call a truce. I don’t want to fight.”
A heavy band releases its grip from my chest. A long breath escapes me and, with it, the anger I’ve been holding onto this past week. “Okay.” I’m distracted by Ethan’s warm, rough palm lying nestled against mine.
The lopsided grin is back. An old friend I haven’t seen since we left Cleveland.
Still calming myself, I deliberately slow my pulse and focus on him. He’s making an effort. I recognize that now, and he deserves the chance he’s asking for. “This is your first time at Disney World too?” I ask.
His face is so close I can see how his scar is puckered from where he had stitches. “Yeah. You know what I’m most excited about?”
“What?”
“Seeing it with you.” He rubs his thumb lightly over the back of my hand, stirring butterflies in my stomach that flutter their wings and rise into my chest. “Will you go with me? To the parks?”
I hesitate. I’m not angry at him anymore, but I have a lot of unanswered questions. It’s like we’re circling around something big, something unnamed. I’m not blind to my growing attraction to Ethan. I’m swimming deeper into the ocean of my feelings and can no longer touch the sandy floor beneath my feet.
I pause, thinking. “Okay. On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“We trade seats. I want the window.”
The corners of his mouth rise higher into a sunny crooked smile. “Done.”
It’s true that I want the window seat, but the real reason I agree to go to Disney World with Ethan is simple. He’s holding my hand, and it feels like a promise of something more. I want to find out what that something is.
I’m not running anymore.