Chapter 32
Regan
Is someone leaving more than just Pulse Point behind?
If you happened to be on the pediatric ward this week, you might have noticed Dr. Regan Thomas making her rounds with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Sources say she’s accepted an early position in New York.
A dream job, by all accounts. So why does it feel like she’s trying to convince herself?
New York’s gaining an exceptional pediatrician. But something tells this reporter she’s leaving more than just a job behind.
Dr. Whisperer.
The next morning, Dad’s already in the kitchen when I come in. He’s sitting in his usual spot, coffee in one hand, the paper in the other. He’s already dressed for work. His suit collar ironed, laces tied, the kind of man who never leaves anything unfinished. Especially not goodbyes.
“Hey. Are you ready for your last day?”
I rub the back of my neck, trying to loosen the knot that’s been sitting there since yesterday. “I think so.”
He smiles faintly. “Well, I’m sure your mom will be excited to have you back.”
That hits me in the chest… in a good way. I can already see her waiting by the door, tears in her eyes, arms open, like she’s ready to wrap me up in love and comfort. She’ll cry first, then order takeout, then cry again.
“She’ll probably feed me for a week straight,” I say with a small laugh.
“She’ll love that.” He takes a long sip from his mug. “I’m sure she misses you.”
“I miss her too.”
There’s a pause. The kind that stretches, but not in a bad way. Just quiet.
“I didn’t think it would feel this strange,” Dad says after a moment.
“What do you mean?”
He exhales through his nose, sets his mug down, then folds his arms across his chest. “You leaving. I knew it was coming. But now that it’s here…”
“You’re gonna miss me?” I tease, nudging him with my shoulder.
“You know I am.”
I turn slightly, studying the tired lines under his eyes. “You never said anything.”
“Didn’t want to make it harder for you,” he says. “Figured you were already carrying enough.”
“I think it’s already hard.”
He nods, like he knows that too well. “You’ve grown into a damn good doctor,” he says, quieter now. “You did it with a lot working against you.”
My stomach tightens. I hesitate, not wanting to ruin this moment. But if I don’t say it now, I never will. “Including you.”
“Yeah. Including me,” he says lightly, his face softening.
I lean back against the counter next to him. “Why? Why’d you have to be so hard on me?”
He looks down at his hands, turning his mug slowly between his palms. “Because I knew what this job could take from you. What it took from me. I didn’t want you walking in here thinking you could just coast through because of your last name.”
“I never thought that.”
“I know,” he says. “But I needed to see you prove it. To them. And… maybe to me, too.”
I let that settle. The hurt and the strange form of love that’s always lived between us.
“And were you ever sure this was right for you?” I ask. “Directing?”
He considers the question for a long beat. “Some days, yes. Other days… I think I just didn’t know how to be anything else.”
I swallow. His words hit deeper than I expect.
Because I see it now, the cost of becoming what he is.
The way work consumed everything else. The way he’s finally reconnecting with me, realizing what he missed.
“I want more than that. I want to be someone who has a whole life. Not just work and exhaustion and… loneliness.”
His eyes flick up to mine. “Then you already have something I never did.”
There’s silence again. But this time, it’s full of understanding, for why he pushed so hard, not just to test me, but to protect me from becoming him. And maybe he understands that I heard him, that his mistakes taught me something valuable.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything. Even when it didn’t feel like support.”
“You’ll be okay in New York.”
“I know.”
“And if you’re not, you call me. Not as your boss,” he adds, the edge of a smile twitching on his lips. “As your dad.”
My throat tightens. “Okay.”
He clears his throat and straightens. “It won’t be the same without you.”
“I’ll come back,” I say. “Visit. Maybe after I settle in, I’ll drive back down for a long weekend or something.”
“You better.” His voice is gruff, but there’s warmth under it now. “Hospital’s not the same without your intelligence and strong opinions.”
I laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.” He hesitates. “And, uh… speaking of people not staying still… Nancy and I are catching up.”
My eyebrows lift. “Nancy? As in, thrift store Nancy?”
He shrugs, like he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. “Yeah.”
I grin. “Wow.”
“It’s nothing serious,” he says quickly, like I might tease him. “Just coffee. She reached out.”
“That’s good,” I say, glad she reached out because she never called or texted me to have dinner. Between work, hanging out with Brant, and now leaving, I just didn’t get a chance to follow up. “You deserve someone. She’s lovely.”
He doesn’t answer right away, but his expression softens. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Everything shifting.”
“Yeah,” I nod. I’m leaving, and somehow everything… Scarlet, Dad, Brant, this entire life I accidentally built feels more complicated than ever. “But maybe strange isn’t always bad.”
“Maybe not.”
He checks his watch. “You’d better get moving. Before I change my mind and try to convince you to stay.”
“I’ll visit,” I promise again, backing toward the door. “You’ll get sick of how often I come back.”
He lifts his mug. “I won’t.”
By the time I get to the hospital, the pressure in my chest has settled into something deeper.
I go straight to Brant’s office. To tell him I’m leaving today, but it’s empty. The lights are off. The door is shut. His desk is cleared. No family photo, no stethoscope, no pen. No sign he was ever there. Did he already move to the chief’s office? Or is he avoiding me?
I stand in the doorway for a moment longer than I need to, half-hoping he’ll materialize, make some dry comment about me being early. Maybe even tell me he’s proud.
But all I get is silence.
“Hey,” a familiar voice calls behind me.
I turn and find Mason leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his scrubs, his usual easy grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You ready to go today?”
“As I’ll ever be.” I pull myself away from the door and toward the day ahead.
He falls into step beside me. “You planning to slack off on your last day?”
“I was hoping to.”
“Not happening. But don’t worry… we’ll go easy on you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Define easy.”
“Well, for starters, don’t take too long on the ward. Your morning tea starts soon.”
I stop mid-step. “Morning tea?”
“Yeah. Your dad organized it.”
“My dad?” The words barely register. I blink at him, not sure I heard right.
Mason shrugs like it’s no big deal, but something catches in my chest. I didn’t think he’d do anything. It shouldn’t matter as much as it does. It really does.
We head down to Pediatrics first. A boy named Jalen, one of the regulars with Type 1 diabetes, is finally being discharged. He’s bright-eyed, sitting cross-legged on the bed, surrounded by comic books.
“Hey, champ,” Mason says, crouching beside him. “You kicking us out already?”
“Mom says I can sleep in my own bed tonight,” Jalen says proudly, flashing a smile with one front tooth missing.
“Bet that bed’s been missing you.”
We go over the discharge folder with the mom together. I take the lead explaining the updated care plan, checking in with his mom about the new insulin pump they’re trying at home, making sure she feels confident about the settings. Mason hands Jalen a superhero sticker.
“You’ll be great,” I tell his mom. “You know how to reach us if anything changes.”
She thanks me three times, her hands wrapping around mine, grateful for the people who kept her kid safe.
“You should stay here forever,” Jalen says to me with an exaggerated frown. “So I can visit.”
“She’s off to save kids in New York,” Mason says, ruffling his hair. “They’re lucky.”
Jalen pouts.
“Hey,” I say softly. “You know what? Dr. Gould here is even better than me. He’s going to take such good care of you.”
Jalen’s gaze shifts to Mason. “Better than you?”
“Way better,” I say, even though it physically hurts to say. But I know Jalen needs to hear this right now.
“Okay.” He smiles.
On the way out, the nurses, Jade and Mira, ambush me in the corridor.
“We’re going to miss you,” Jade says.
“You’d better keep those prank wars alive,” I warn.
“You know I will,” Mira promises. “I’ve got a reputation to protect.”
I laugh so wide my face aches, but there’s a burn at the backs of my eyes I can’t quite blink away.
Mason lingers at my side, watching it all quietly. I catch him observing, something thoughtful in his expression, but I’m too overwhelmed to figure out what that means.
“You okay?” he asks as we walk toward the elevators.
Am I okay? I’m saying goodbye to people I’ve worked beside, leaving a place that somehow became home. And Brant’s nowhere to be found. “I don’t know yet.”
He leans back on his heels. “You made an impact here. That’s not easy to do.”
“Come on. You’ll get a new resident to torture. You’ll be fine.”
He chuckles. “Maybe. But it’s been good, y’know? Working with you.”
I glance over, surprised by the note of sincerity in his voice.
“You pushed back when things didn’t make sense. Made us all better for it.”
“That’s... probably the nicest backhanded compliment I’ve ever received.”
He grins. “You’re welcome.”
We arrive in the break room, and it’s more crowded than I expect.
Nurses, residents, board members, a couple of admin staff, all crammed inside with coffee cups and awkward smiles.
Balloons are taped to the walls. A tray of pastries sits dangerously overloaded.
There’s a huge cake in the center of the table.