Chapter 51
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Gaines
I drop my gaze to my phone’s screen, but this time, I’m not reading an update on a patient or my upcoming office schedule. I’m staring at the only picture of Eloise that I’ve taken.
She was asleep in my bed when I snapped it.
The covers were pulled up to her chin, and her hair was a halo on the pillow beneath her. She looks like an angel.
I should be with her tonight, and every night forever, but before I can do that, I have to cleanse my soul. I need to unburden myself. It starts tonight when I confess my sins to my cousin. I need his advice on how to tell Eloise about my past.
I asked Berk to meet me for dinner. I suggested a diner near my apartment. He insisted we eat here, so I told him to make the reservation, and he did.
Atlas 22 has played a pivotal role in my life over the course of the last couple of months. In some twisted way, it’s fitting that I’m taking the first steps to leave my past behind here.
“Dr. Morgan?” Tony, the manager, comes at my full speed. “You’re sitting down for a meal tonight?”
I laugh that off. “It’s a rare occurrence, but I am.”
“Will a beautiful woman be joining you?”
I shake my head. “My cousin. He’s not nearly as good-looking as I am.”
I expect him to laugh, but he nods. “Not many men are.”
I toss him a smile. “I’ll wait to order until Berk arrives. I’m early, so I’ll start with a glass of sparkling water.”
“If it’s a special occasion, I’m more than happy to send over a bottle of champagne.” He pauses. “On the house, of course. The entire dinner is on the house.”
“That’s not necessary, Tony.”
“You saved a life in here,” he reminds me of something I’ll never forget. “That doesn’t happen every day.”
I spot Berk on the approach, so I motion toward him. “There’s my cousin now.”
I stand to greet him. As usual, he goes for an embrace. I welcome it tonight as I always do.
He pats my cheek. “It’s good to see you, Gaines.”
“The genes in your family are next level.” Tony chuckles. “What can I get you to drink, sir? Are you a Morgan, too?”
“Berk Morgan.” Berk offers his hand to Tony. “I understand my cousin saved a life here.”
“It was like something out of a movie.” Tony takes Berk’s hand. “Being a witness to that sure does change your outlook on life.”
Berk jerks a thumb toward me. “They’ll write books about him one day.”
“Enough!” I raise both hands in the air as I smile. “I’m hungry. Let’s sit.”
Tony nods. “Champagne for you, Berk?”
I already know how he’ll respond. “I won’t turn that down.”
“I’ll bring the bottle.” He sprints toward the bar.
Berk adjusts his suit jacket as she takes a seat across from me. “That guy loves you.”
“That guy is grateful that Daxton didn’t die in that spot over there.”
Berk looks me over. “What was that like? In that moment, when you saw him on the floor, what exactly goes through your mind?”
I lean back in my chair. “My training kicks in.”
“Sure, but there’s more to it than that,” he presses. “Do you panic at all? Is there any fear? Or is it more a challenge?”
All of that exists in the moment when you’re faced with someone dying in front of you, so I nod. “It’s hard to describe.”
“Try,” he insists. “I’ve always wondered about that. When Stevie has a nosebleed, I fucking feel like the world is about to end.”
We both chuckle.
“I meant what I said to Tony.” He points at my suit jacket. “You always look like a million bucks. You’re single. You’re rich as fuck, and you’re a life-saving cardiologist. Give me the word, and I’ll get Sinclair a contract to write your autobiography.”
I know it’s her job, but I’ll never be her subject.
I don’t address that, though. I skip past it all to hone in on why I asked him here. I might as well take the step since he just opened the door for me.
“I’m not single, Berk.”
Technically, I am, but I’m madly in love with Eloise. I want a future with her. That begins with telling her about my past and sharing my love for her with my family.
“You’re not single?” His brows pinch together.
Before I can say another word, Tony is back at his side with a bottle of expensive champagne and two glasses.
He pops the cork before pouring a taste for Berk. He samples it quickly, motioning that he wants a refill.
I wave a hand over the empty glass since I’m on call.
“Can I join the party?”
The voice behind me is familiar but unexpected. I glance over my shoulder to see Daxton Robinson behind me.
“Hey, Dr. Morgan.” He raises his hand in the air. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I could really use a minute of your time.”
I survey the room behind him, expecting to see Penny, but instead, I see his folks being seated at a table, not twenty feet from where we are.
Why am I not surprised that I keep running into this kid here?
“I’m Berk Morgan.” Berk shoves his hand at Dax as Tony slips away.
“Daxton Robinson.” Dax shakes his hand. “I’m a patient of Dr. Morgan’s.”
Berk shoots me a glance. I toss him one back, meant to apologize for the interruption, but he pushes back from the table. “I’m going to call Astrid and check in.”
“Wait.” Dax drops his hand to Berk’s forearm. “Are you her husband?”
“I am.” He stands. “I’m pretty sure your girlfriend and sister are at my house right now having dinner with my wife and her cousin.”
“What a small world.” Dax laughs. “It’s good to meet you, man.”
“You too.” Berk motions toward the bar. “I’ll make that call. Sit and talk with Gaines.”
Dax sits his ass down as Berk takes off.
“Again, I’m sorry to interrupt.” Dax kneads his hands together on top of the table. “I just need to tell someone, and since you’re my doctor I thought it would be okay to tall to you about it.”
Concern grips me. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling all right?”
He edges back in the chair before he slides forward again. He’s a bundle of nervous energy. “Penny is the one, Dr. Morgan. I’m in love with her.”
I’m happy for him, but that doesn’t explain what’s tearing him up. “What’s bothering you, Dax?”
“I’ve been keeping something from her.” His gaze darts past me. I suspect he’s looking at his parents. “I’ve been keeping it from everyone.”
I’m not a priest, but it feels like he’s about to make a confession. “I can recommend someone you can speak with. I have colleagues who are very experienced in dealing with issues related to anxiety. You may find that helpful.”
“If I tell you something, it stays between us, right?” He laughs nervously. “You can’t tell anyone else about it. You took an oath, didn’t you?”
“I’m not a lawyer, Dax,” I explain. “If it’s related to your health, I’m legally bound to keep that information private unless you give me permission to share it.”
He nods. “All right. I get that. It is related to my health.”
Since we’ve finally established that, I take a sip of water and lean back in my chair. “Tell me what it is.”