4. Ari
FOUR
ARI
Icould see the tall man was going to faint before either Warren or the woman he was with noticed, and I ran out of the car just in time to catch him.
And catch him I did, only no one could have prepared me for the whiplash of what being in such close proximity to perfection would be like.
A silver fox right in my very arms.
It had been a long while since I felt a man so close to me, since I felt a man's presence overwhelm my nervous system, and it almost threatened to send me tumbling.
Especially when I looked at the beautiful sea of his eyes and I could feel myself drowning.
I let him go. Put some distance between me and the hunk of a man. Once I was certain he was okay, of course.
Why hadn’t Warren warned me his brother was hot? I guess no brother would say that about their sibling unless there was something wrong with them, but still. This man—Wyatt—should come with a warning.
It had been a while since I'd been attracted to anyone, since I'd been in the state of mind to even notice a man, that I felt entirely unprepared for the feeling coursing through body and mind.
"Let's go eat," I said after the introductions were made, and we made our way back to the car.
Not that it mattered. I still couldn't concentrate on anything but the man sitting in the passenger seat.
I wanted to memorize every line, every angle, every hair on his face for some reason. I knew I needed to stop, but I couldn't, try as I might.
Thankfully, the rest of the early morning was full of chatter, pancakes, and coffee, so I managed to hide myself behind a large cup and a stack and stay out of Warren's and Wyatt's way as they discussed the situation.
"It was...nice to meet you," he said after we finished at Bonnie's and before we got into the car.
"Oh, you're not coming with us? We can drop you off at home," I said.
Did my voice sound whiny? Why did I sound whiny and needy?
"I think I'll walk. It...it might help clear up the..." He gestured to his head and waved his hand around it, and I nodded in understanding.
"Well, in that case, it was good to meet you too. Even under the circumstances." This time I sounded far more human. I was proud of myself.
Then of course he offered me his hand and it all went to hell again, because as soon as I shook it, my whole world shook with it.
His firm grip, the heat of his palm, the intense gaze, it made all the oxygen leave my body.
I didn't know how I knew, but I had a feeling this—he—could shake my entire existence off its core.
If I let it.
I wasn't going to.
I wasn't a horny fifteen-year-old with a crush on his best friend's brother, nor a twenty-five-year-old that saw his destiny in every man he came across.
I was a grown-ass man and I could control myself. Besides, I reminded myself—something I hadn't had to do in a long, long while—my heart was closed for business.
"I hope you can sort it all out," I said, and he let go, though was it me or did he look like he didn't want to?
God. Now I was projecting. As if this beautiful, mature man was gay.
"Thanks. Me...me too," he said, and just like that, the spell ended and I could return to my normal life.
I could return to my body, my soul, and my responsibilities.
And that was exactly what I did. I got into the car and waited for Warren to get behind the wheel so I could get to work.
"Are you okay?" he asked when we arrived at home and I made my way to the van.
"Yeah. Why?"
He shrugged. "You haven't said anything the whole way home."
"Just...thinking about the long day ahead," I said, and Warren frowned.
"Oh. Okay. Are you sure? You've never been this pensive before work."
"Pensive, huh? Did someone learn a new word?" I wiggled my eyebrows for extra teasing, and Warren pushed me off my path.
"Fuck off. I'm just checking."
"Checking what?" I asked.
"Maybe you felt weird with my brother."
"Weird?" I grimaced. "Why would I feel weird? What makes you say that?"
Had he noticed something? Had I given myself away? Damn, I thought I'd done a better job of hiding my ridiculous attraction.
"I don't know, man. I thought maybe you felt some kind of way about sitting next to a potential murderer," he said, and I almost came to a complete stop.
My jaw dropped. "What are you talking about? Your brother is not a murderer," I said.
"I know that. But I thought maybe you thought he was guilty—"
I put my hands up and shook my head. "No! Of course not. If he says he didn't do it, I believe him." I had no idea why, but I did. "Besides, you guys said this had to do with the crime lord lurking around. Even more reason not to believe he had anything to do with it."
"Okay. Yeah," he replied and took a deep breath before he pointed at the van. "Do you need me this morning? Want me to come with?"
I had no idea what I needed or wanted anymore. Not after the experience I just had, but I wasn't about to tell him that.
"I don't think so. If I do, I'll text you."
And like that, we parted ways, and I made my way to Main Street where there was already a line of people waiting to be seen. It was exactly what I needed to take my mind off everything and to focus on what was important. Helping people.
By lunch time I'd seen a couple dozen people, and the last patient was an elderly Black man with a ratty Cairn terrier in tow.
"Morning, Mr. Rogers. What brings you by today?" I asked, and the man tied his dog outside without being prompted before he stepped inside.
"It's gotten worse, Doctor. I can barely sleep at night," he said and took a seat with a heavy groan.
I pulled up his file on my laptop and went through his diagnosis and prescription, although I was pretty confident I remembered his details.
Even if I thought I knew everyone by heart, it was the proper process to check their files and ensure the medical advice I gave was accurate.
"I see. I'm really sorry your symptoms are getting worse, Mr. Rogers. What would be your ideal outcome today?"
Mr. Rogers licked his lips and smiled. "Well, ideally we'd get rid of this arthritis and I would never need to deal with it again, but I know you're not a miracle man. Can't you increase my prescription? The pills were working for a while."
I pursed my lips and shook my head. "I'm afraid we'd be risking kidney failure if I increased your dosage.
I think your body's tolerance has increased, which is why they're not working anymore.
We have other courses of pain management, but I'll need to monitor you more closely because they also carry risks. Tell me, Mr. Rogers, how is your mood?"
"My mood?" The man seemed taken aback by my question.
"Is the pain affecting your mood daily? Do you feel demotivated or stressed?"
Mr. Rogers cocked his head. "No more than usual. If only I could sleep at night I'd feel better."
I nodded. "Any history of mental health issues in your family, like bipolar disorder?"
"Why are you asking this?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I just need to establish some history because the next step is an antidepressant that's been proven to help with arthritis, but it can trigger certain episodes, especially to those who are struggling with their mental health."
He shook his head. "Oh, no. I don't have anything like that."
Of course he would say that. It was the norm, with the elderly especially. Mental health wasn't in their vocabulary. It was stigmatized even despite all the work that we'd been doing as doctors for years to destigmatize mental health.
It was even more important to monitor those people who might not recognize the symptoms of their own mind, or ignore them in favor of more physical ailments.
"Now, it might be a little intense at first, but you have to stick with it for a couple of weeks before you see results, all right?" I listed some of the side-effects to look out for and instructed him when to stop and seek my advice, and we rejoined his little excited dog outside.
"Such a good boy," I told him and allowed myself to get down on my knees and play with the little rat of terror.
"Prince is the best boy," Mr. Rogers said. "I don't know what I'd do without him. And without you."
I turned to look at my patient and smiled. "Oh, stop it, Mr. Rogers. It's just my job."
"Yeah, and I'd probably be pushing daisies if you hadn't set up shop here," he said and pointed to the van.
"Well, we're going to make sure that doesn't happen for a long time while I'm here, all right, Mr. Rogers?"
He chuckled and untied his dog from the hook and looked at me.
"You're a godsend, Dr. Ari. Godsend."
The poor man. As if it wasn't enough that he was still dealing with the grief of losing his wife, he had to run his business despite his old age. The man could barely walk, let alone drive, which was how he’d ended up at my van in need of my services, and he wasn’t even the worst of my cases.
There were so many people here that couldn’t afford their premiums, that couldn’t afford prescriptions, that couldn’t afford to live a healthy life.
I patted Mr. Rogers’ hand and offered him my biggest smile.
"Say, when are we going to meet your wife?" He looked down at my wedding ring, and it took me by surprise.
"Husband, actually. He...he's away," I said, a lie I’d practiced in the past four years.
It was too hard to say the truth, even to myself. That Evan was dead and I was nothing more than a widower.
"Still. Gotta come home sometime," he said.
I bit back a tear and kept the smile on my face. "Maybe. Someday," I said. "How did you even know this was a wedding ring?" I held up my right hand and showed it to Mr. Rogers.
"What else would it be?" He chuckled.
I shrugged. "I'm wearing it in the wrong hand, so most people don't know that's what it is."
"A wedding ring is a wedding ring no matter what hand it's worn on."
I sighed and pursed my lips but said little else, choosing instead to roll the band around my finger.
Mr. Rogers bid me goodbye and walked away with his exuberant dog, and I stood there, watching the people go past, fiddling with my ring.
Had he noticed it? Wyatt? Even if he had, would he have known it's a wedding ring? Would he even care?
Gosh. What's wrong with me today?
Why did it matter if he noticed or if he thought I was married. It wasn't as if my heart was available anyway.
No. It didn't matter. No matter how blue his eyes or how pretty his face, my heart had shut down for business four years ago.
And I would never fall in love ever again.