Chapter 9
Brant
My hand hovers just inches from Dr. Thomas’s office door when his voice blasts through it.
“Because I won’t let this derail your career. Or mine.”
I freeze. The tone alone is enough to turn my spine to ice. His words sink in, heavy and hard. He's talking to her. Regan.
My grip curls into a fist.
“Right. Your career. That’s what really matters here, isn’t it?”
I grit my teeth, struggling to process what I’m hearing.
How the hell can he speak to his daughter like that?
She hasn’t done anything wrong. Yeah, she’s mouthy sometimes, bratty even, but she’s committed.
She doesn’t deserve this. Suddenly me wanting to update him on a case doesn’t matter right now.
Footsteps sound against the floor. I duck behind the nearest column, heart hammering.
From the edge of my hiding spot, I watch her emerge.
Regan closes the door softly, then buries her face in her hands for just a second before walking away, shoulders stiff.
She's holding back tears. I can see it in the way her spine curves, in the way she doesn’t look up.
Something cracks open in my chest.
I shouldn’t get involved. This could cost me everything, my job, any shot I have at becoming chief. But before I can reason with myself, my feet are moving. I’m opening the door and stepping inside, the loud click behind me slicing through the air like a final decision.
Dr. Thomas doesn’t even glance up. “The conversation is over, Regan,” he says coldly, eyes on a file.
I cross my arms across my chest and wait.
He looks up, blinking. “Oh. I thought you were Regan.”
“I know. I came to talk to you because I heard the way you spoke to her.”
His eyes narrow. “This isn’t your place.”
“It is,” I say, stepping closer. “When I’m her mentor, and I find her crying in the hallway.” Okay, maybe she wasn’t crying yet, but damn it, she would’ve been if she wasn’t so damn stubborn.
Something shifts in his expression for just a second. His mouth opens, but I don’t let him speak.
“She hasn’t been back in town for years, and this is how you treat her?”
I’ve known him a long time. We’ve had countless discussions in this same office where he’s opened up to me about her. How much he missed her. His behavior right now isn’t adding up.
“This is not your business,” he snaps again.
“I told you, it is. I respect you. You know that. You reminded me that we’re at work and need to conduct ourselves in a professional manner, and the way you spoke to her just now...”
“You’re not my daughter,” he says, arms crossing over his chest again.
“No,” I agree. “But you’ve never been cruel to me, either. Do you love her?”
He snorts, slapping a hand on the desk. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?”
“An honest one. Because if you heard yourself just now, you’d see that wasn’t love. You hurt her.”
“I didn’t know,” he says softly, but still defensive.
“Which is why I’m standing here.”
The tension in the room stretches like a wire pulled too tight. I grab the chair across from him and sit.
“I received a call from the director of New York Hospital. She’s been accepted to a city hospital after her residency.”
I nod. “And you think that excuses anything?”
His eyes narrow. “She’s leaving again.”
“So what, you’re cruel now because…”
His throat works. No answer.
I lean forward. “I don’t have kids, but my niece is like my own. If I had limited time with her, I’d savor every damn second. Not push her away.”
“But she’s leaving,” he mutters again.
I shake my head. “And why wouldn’t she? You’re not giving her a reason to stay.”
“I didn’t give her mother one either,” he admits, almost under his breath. Regret flickers across his face. He probably didn’t mean to say that aloud.
“She’s not her mother,” I say gently. “This is your second chance. Don’t waste it.” A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it. “Honestly, Regan’s so much like you, it’s terrifying.”
His mouth twitches. “Why do you say that?”
“Smart. Focused. Hard-working. Stubborn as hell when she thinks she’s right.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You do realize I’m your boss?”
“Believe me, I’m aware. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop… I wanted to update you on a case, and I heard voices. But blame my conscience or my niece, I couldn’t ignore how you spoke to Regan or the look on her face afterward.”
He leans back in his chair and exhales a long breath. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. I should be trying. I just don’t know where to start. I don’t know what we have in common anymore.”
“I bet that doesn’t even matter.”
He goes still, blinking slowly, like the idea hadn’t occurred to him before.
“Thanks,” he says finally. “For calling me out. I’ll… work on it.”
I stand, a strange lightness settling in my chest. As I walk out of his office, I find myself thinking of Regan again. And somehow, it doesn’t feel like a burden.