Chapter 13
Thirteen
Tabitha
A week later…
I look at my phone, the glare of the screen jarring in the early morning stillness.
No missed calls, no voicemails. The only text I’ve sent in the past few days was one asking Lance for a rain check on our coffee date.
He was a perfect gentleman about it, told me to let him know when my schedule calmed down. I don’t know if it ever will.
I’ve made it through another day without hearing from Henry.
The ache is still there. It’s a gnawing pain that grows more with each passing day. I have no right to feel the ache. I’m the one who didn’t go to Grand Junction when he asked for me. Why should he call me now?
I push it all aside. I have to. There’s no room for it, not when I have papers to write, procedures to memorize, an exam looming.
I push away from the table and walk to the kitchen counter, my bare feet cold against the linoleum. I pour myself a cup of coffee, cradle the mug in my hands, and take a sip. It’s strong and bitter, just the way I like it.
With a deep breath, I pull out my phone again and scroll through my contacts. Marjorie gave me Henry’s number in one of her texts, and I created a contact. I hover my finger over his name.
Henry.
I didn’t put in his last name. Didn’t need to. For me, there will never be another Henry.
Not Henry Cavill, not Prince Harry, not Henry Golding. All gorgeous Henrys.
None can hold a candle to Henry Simpson in my eyes.
Henry.
The letters blurring together as my eyes fill with unshed tears.
Delete Contact
The words pulse at me.
Yes. No. Yes. No.
I confirm.
Contact Deleted
I close my eyes, the finality of that message sinking in. It was a necessary step, a harsh reminder of the reality I now face. Henry is not a part of my life anymore. He hasn’t been for two weeks, and he won’t be ever again, no matter how much I wish it were different.
No class today, which is rare. I need to use the time wisely, so I head back to my desk where my textbooks and notes are spread across the surface. I stare at the pile, a hint of dread creeping in at the edges of my mind.
But I swallow it down along with another sip of my coffee. I fire up my laptop and begin to type. As I fill the page with medical terms and diagrams, I let myself sink into the rhythm of it and let the repetition comfort me.
Around lunchtime, my phone buzzes. For a moment, my mind conjures images of Henry’s name lighting up my screen, even though I deleted him so only the number would show.
When I glance at it, it’s only a text from Eli.
Break time?
I don’t have the energy to respond, but I manage to type out a quick message.
Sure. Starbucks?
A thumbs-up emoji comes through.
I head to the coffeehouse and enter, the scent of fresh coffee and pastries filling the air. A few students sit at nearby tables, their textbooks scattered around them, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and determination.
Eli enters and sees me right away, a sympathetic look on his face.
Fuck.
I’m so sick of sympathy.
But I can’t bring myself to take it out on Eli. He’s been a great friend and an even greater study partner. Without him helping me, I’d have struggled to stay afloat in the raging whirlpool that is my memories of that damned weekend with Henry.
“You look tired,” he says.
“I’m okay,” I reply, trying to inject a little positivity into my voice. But my heart isn’t in it.
We order, and Eli insists on paying. “You’ve had a rough couple of weeks,” he says, giving me a small smile.
I mumble a “Thank you,” taken aback by his kindness but also pissed about the sympathy. Again.
As we sit down with our coffees, I can’t help but glance at my phone again. Still no call, no text. I swallow hard, pushing down the pang of disappointment.
“Tabitha,” Eli begins, his voice gentle. “You’re doing the right thing, you know. Focusing on your studies, on your future. We were both lucky to snag seats in this seminar.”
“I know.” I blink back tears that threaten. “Thanks, Eli.”
We spend the next hour talking about everything but Henry. About our upcoming exam, the newest medical research, the textbooks we wish weren’t so expensive. Even the e-book versions—which neither of us like because we’re chronic highlighters and page turners—are astronomically priced.
Once we’re finished with our coffees, he walks me back to my place. “You got this, Tabitha,” he says just before we part ways. “Remember that.”
I nod, my throat tight.
I force myself to believe his words. I’ve got this. I can do this. I can move forward without Henry.
It’s a daunting thought, but it’s also a necessary one. It’s the only way I can truly start healing.
Except…
Angie and Jason will be back from their honeymoon soon, and I’ll have to explain to Angie why I declined to see Henry when he asked for me. After he had a life-threatening accident.
She’s a med student. She’ll understand. Right?
But she won’t.
Henry’s her brother.
Of course, she has no idea what went on between us at her wedding. I could tell she had an inkling—I mean, she asked me point-blank—but I never told her.
Did Henry tell her?
No. He wouldn’t have had time. Angie and Jason were probably gone by the time he rose that Sunday.
My guess is the family chose not to bother Angie during her honeymoon. They no doubt told her Henry was fine and there was no need to rush home.
Which is all true.
Though it was probably touch and go for a while. Thank God for Zach. Zach the wonder dog, who alerted Marjorie and Bryce to Henry’s situation at his home under construction.
I shake my head, trying to clear away the troubling thoughts. Right now, I need to focus on what’s ahead and leave the past in the past.
Another afternoon of studying. We have lecture tomorrow morning, labs in the afternoon. And then, the weekend. But there won’t be any rest for me. Not with the exam inching closer with every passing day.
As I walk into my apartment, I can’t help but look at my phone again, half expecting a call from Marjorie. But my screen remains stubbornly notification-free.
I sit back down at my desk, ready to tackle the books again, when—
My phone buzzes on the countertop, the sound startling me out of my thoughts.
When I see who it is, my heart jolts.