Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
HAYDEN
When I step into the office later that morning, I’m surrounded by the familiar smell of antiseptic and coffee, the fluorescent lights humming overhead.
Normally the sound grates on me. Today it barely registers.
Everything feels lighter. How could it not after this morning? Hell, after this weekend?
“Good morning, Margaret,” I call out as I pass the reception desk.
She looks up and blinks, staring at me as if I’ve grown another head.
“What happened to the real Dr. Hayden Lawrence? Because you are definitely not him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“For the past year, I’ve seen you walk through those doors. Seen you drag your sulking butt to your office. And not once have I seen anything remotely resembling a smile crack on that pretty face of yours.”
“I…smile,” I attempt to argue in my defense.
“I’m not talking about that tight, polite one you give your patients. I’m talking about a real smile. One that makes me think you’re so full of joy you can’t help but to smile.”
At her words, I immediately think of Rowan and how she lives her life following joy everywhere she can.
Margaret leans forward, lowering her voice. “Did you meet someone?”
I open my mouth to respond, pausing just long enough for her to notice.
“Oh, my god.” Her eyes widen. “You did.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She beams, as if I just told her we were doubling her salary. “Don’t worry,” she adds quickly. “I won’t tell Robert. I keep telling him you need to move on. That it’s the healthy thing, but you know how he is.”
Do I ever.
Control disguised as concern.
Grief weaponized as loyalty.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Margaret, but I haven’t met anyone new.”
It’s not a complete lie. Rowan isn’t new.
She’s been in my house for months. In my life in quiet, unassuming ways. Sitting on the floor with Jemmy. Braiding Presley’s hair. Folding laundry in the living room.
But something shifted this weekend.
And I don’t regret it for a second.
Margaret studies me a moment longer, then places her hand on mine, squeezing. “Whatever it is, I’m happy for you. It’s good to see you actually…living again. Happiness looks good on you.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I just give her a small nod and continue down the hallway.
I usually dread this walk. Dread staring at Cora’s portrait as I head toward my office. Am normally overcome with guilt and grief.
Not today.
Today, I pause in front of it and look into her eyes, seeing her in a different light.
Like a weight’s been lifted off her, too.
I slip inside my office and exchange my winter coat for my white jacket. Then I sit at my desk and open my laptop to review a few case notes.
As I do, my cell phone buzzes. I grab my glasses and put them on, clicking on the message.
A selfie fills the screen. Rowan and Jemmy pressed cheek to cheek. Jemmy’s curls are a mess. Rowan’s smile is wide and unguarded.
Rowan:
Smiles for Daddy.
Warmth spreads through me, slow and steady. It’s ridiculous how something so simple can do that. I tell myself it’s because of how happy Jemmy looks. And that’s part of it.
But it’s not the only reason for this feeling that’s overtaken me.
A knock sounds, tearing my attention away from my phone just as the door opens.
Robert stands in the doorway, his analytical stare studying me.
“You seem…happy,” he says, as if the mere notion leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
I lower my glasses. “Just had a nice weekend.”
“Hmm.” He narrows his gaze on me.
He’s searching for something. Evidence of betrayal maybe.
For a flicker of a second, I wonder if he can see the truth on me. If he can tell the reason I’m so happy is because I got laid again. If he can sense I was unfaithful to his daughter.
But I wasn’t unfaithful.
Cora’s gone.
That truth used to feel like a blade. Now it feels like something else. Permission, maybe?
Or maybe I’ve finally reached acceptance.
“I spoke with the pastor,” Robert announces after a beat. “We’re arranging a service in Cora’s memory on the twenty-first of next month. I’ve reserved the function room at Holley Ridge for afterwards.”
I frown. “We just had her memorial. A week ago.”
His eyes sharpen. “January twenty-first is her birthday. Or did you already forget?”
The air in the room cools several degrees, the uneasiness I always feel in his presence creeping in.
I haven’t forgotten. He won’t let me. But I don’t say that.
“Is this really necessary?” I ask.
His face reddens, his jaw tightening. “Is it necessary to pay tribute to your wife? To honor her memory?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just…” I blow out a breath, briefly closing my eyes to collect my thoughts. “It’s difficult for the kids, especially Presley. If it weren’t for Rowan—”
“I’m glad you brought her up,” Robert interjects. “This time, it’s for family and close friends only. No additional attendees or…plus ones.”
“Rowan isn’t an additional attendee or a plus one,” I say carefully. “She’s my kids’ nanny.”
“People are still talking about why you brought a date to your wife’s memorial.”
I’m about to remind him once again that she wasn’t my date. That she helps with the kids and it could be good to have her there, especially if he insists on them attending, but I don’t. He’ll only read into it more than he should.
I’m not sure I want Rowan there anyway. Especially now.
It was different when she was there as emotional support for Presley.
Now that we’re sleeping together, inviting her to my dead wife’s birthday memorial seems a little strange.
“She won’t be there,” I assure him.
A flicker of satisfaction crosses his face. “Good.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” I say calmly, returning my glasses to my face and gesturing toward my laptop, “I need to review some case notes before seeing my first patient.”
He lingers a second longer, searching my face for something. Probably the same unbearable guilt that’s weighed me down since Cora’s death.
He won’t find it.
I refuse to continue burdening myself with the past.
In just one weekend, Rowan’s taught me the importance of letting things go.
I can only imagine what one month with her will do.
Do I have a month with her?
I don’t know.
And I’m surprisingly okay with that.
I’ve always lived my life structured. One milestone after another. High school. College. Med school. Residency. Marriage. Children. Promotions.
Always moving forward.
Never remaining still.
Then Cora died, and everything stopped.
I’ve been standing in the wreckage ever since.
Until Rowan.
When I’m with her, I’m not calculating what’s next. I’m not replaying what I should have done differently.
I’m just there.
Enjoying the moment.
Although, I am very much looking forward to later tonight when I can feel her again.
“Of course,” Robert says finally. “I’ll let you know more details once I have them.”
I give him one last nod before he retreats into the hallway.
When the door shuts behind him, I release a slow breath.
My chest doesn’t feel tight.
My hands aren’t shaking.
I don’t feel like I’ve failed some invisible test.
Instead, I feel…steady.
Robert can cling to the past if he wants. Build shrines and host services and replay what-ifs until the end of time.
But I have two children who need a father who’s present.
And that’s exactly what I plan to be.