Chapter 29 – Catalina #2
I know it does.
“So,” I say lightly, forcing a smile, “drinks?”
Everyone agrees, chairs scrape, conversation resumes.
Thankfully, the rest of dinner unfolds more easily.
The music turns up around us. More guests filter in as the night darkens.
Appetizers come out—small plates featuring the egg farm’s chickens in about a dozen impressive ways. I even manage to relax a fraction.
My shoulders loosen every time I don’t have to look in Jensen’s direction. But when I do, that familiar heat slides down my spine.
He’s not drinking tonight, which tells me the margaritas at my parents’ house were driven by his pain. He broke his sobriety because I pushed him away. I won’t take responsibility for that. He made the decision. It’s still disappointing.
I’m sad over something that was never really mine to claim. I’m confused over how strong my feelings still are toward him despite everything. There’s a dull, constant ache that refuses to be reasoned with because I know I was too harsh and didn’t give him the full explanation about Davis.
When I found out about Davis’s affair, I hadn’t even reacted this strongly. I remember catching him in a lie once—he’d said he was coming home but instead went out for drinks with a coworker. Another male doctor. I hadn’t cared or thought much of it other than feeling a tiny bit of disappointment.
But this feels different. This feels personal. Like a betrayal that cuts deeper because it touched something raw that I hadn’t realized was still exposed. Which tells me something else that I’ve been quietly wondering.
Maybe I haven’t healed as much as I thought from the wreckage Davis left behind.
Maybe I dragged those old wounds into whatever Jensen and I started before I even realized what I was doing.
And maybe—despite how justified I felt in my anger—I should have accepted his apology.
Maybe I’m just wrong in different ways, clinging to my pride like a shield.
“Hey,” Dani says, leaning across the table toward me. “Want to step outside? Cash Marshall just installed a new firepit and pond in the back. I want to show it to you.”
I nod and stand, slipping out of my chair and weaving through the crowded bar after her, grateful for an excuse to get away.
With every step, I can feel Jensen’s eyes on me.
Heavy. Dark. Tracking my movement like he used to when things were good—when I let myself believe this could be something.
It’s a strange feeling, being the object of all that manly attention.
I’ve never had someone look at me the way that he does.
When we push outside, the heat and humidity hit immediately.
A full North Carolina summer presses in from all sides.
The air clings to my skin and steals the air from my lungs.
Dani doesn’t seem to be impacted by it. She guides me past a cluster of tables, circles a small crowd until we reach a charming, handmade pond tucked into the back corner of the property.
There’s a tiny wooden bridge that arches over the water, leading to a little island in the center.
String lights reflect off the surface, soft and golden.
Dani leans against one side of the railing. I stand opposite of her. Her brows raise a little before she nods.
“Alright... What’s going on?”
I bite down on my bottom lip. We don’t do this. At least, we haven’t since I left home. Somewhere along the way between medical school, residency, moving cities, becoming someone constantly on call, we lost this version of each other.
When we were little, we’d stay up at night and giggle under the covers after our parents said good night while we talked about crushes and dreams. Now we’re adults, with separate lives, and separate loves, and yet she’s standing in front of me, reaching out like she’s willing to meet me where I am despite me pushing her away for years.
I can’t be cold with my family anymore. I can’t keep building walls just because it’s easier than letting someone see the cracks. And the moment I realize that is the moment that hot tears burn at the corners of my eyes.
They don’t fall out, thank God, but everything else does. I spill it all to her. The whole story of what’s happened since I joined the series a few weeks ago, Denver, my trip to Tennessee with Jensen, and what happened in San Jose when I overheard Davis privately examining his shoulder.
When I finish, Dani stares and blinks at me a few times, clearly stunned. Then she’s moving, fast, and pulling me into her arms like she never stopped being my younger sister.
“Whoa,” she murmurs, stroking a soothing hand down my hair.
Her arms come around me and I let her hug me. That's the most honest way I can put it—I let her, which is not something I do easily or often, and she knows that, which is probably why she doesn't make a big deal out of it. She just holds on and strokes my hair like we're kids again.
I don't cry. I want to, maybe, somewhere underneath all the composure I can't seem to take off even now, but nothing comes. I’m exhausted. I’m tired of hurting.
What's wrong with me? The question sits in my chest quiet and heavy.
I've built a whole life out of being excellent, and it turns out excellent doesn't protect you from anything that actually matters.
Doesn't stop a man from looking for something easier.
Doesn't stop you from standing in a hospital corridor feeling like the same girl who could never quite be enough.
I wonder if I'll ever stop believing that about myself.
I wonder if I even know how to let someone value me without waiting for the part where they change their mind.
Dani doesn't say anything for a long moment. She just keeps her arms around me like she’s protecting me from my own thoughts.
“Whoa,” she says again, quieter this time, like she’s replaying everything I just told her in her head.
When she finally releases me, I step back and lean against the opposite railing of the bridge, gripping the wood beneath my palms and putting a little distance between us physically because I need some space.
She wrings her hands together in front of her. “If I ever see Davis again, I’m kicking him in the nuts—”