CHAPTER 3 PENN
PENN
There’s a knock on the door, and before I can answer, it opens. “They’re ready for you, Dr. Brody.”
I tighten my grip on the folder in my hand and keep staring out the window at the street below. “Thanks. I’ll be right there.”
I expect the door to close behind her, but it doesn’t. “Is everything okay, Penn?”
The use of my first name grates on me.
Without looking at her, I move to the other side of my desk, putting it between us. Maybe it’s everything going on at home or the way Aria looked at me last night like I was breaking her heart. Either way, being alone in my office with my charge nurse suddenly feels too personal.
“I’m fine, Miss Jenner.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “If you need to talk, I’m happy to listen.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m fine. I just need to file a few things, and I’ll be right there.”
She takes a step toward me and holds out her hand. “Here. I can file that for you.”
I pull the folder away before she can touch it. “No.” The word comes out too loud.
Her eyes widen, and I force myself to take a breath. “I’ve got it.”
Her gaze drops to the folder, and it takes everything in me not to curse. The last thing I need is anyone in this hospital wondering what I’m hiding, especially someone known for spreading gossip.
I slide the folder behind me and wait for her to leave.
Instead, she smiles. “I’m looking at two different summer programs the hospital is offering for continuing education. Do you think we could talk about them over lunch today?”
“I was just going to grab a quick sandwich,” I say as I move toward my briefcase. I planned to file this in my office, but it looks like I’m taking it home instead. “I have a consult this afternoon, and—”
“Perfect.” She nods like I agreed. “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria. Eleven-thirty?”
At this point, I’d agree to about anything to get her out of my office. “Sure. Eleven-thirty.”
Her smile widens. “Actually, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
She finally leaves, and when the door shuts behind her, I let out a rough breath.
I barely slept last night, and I can feel it.
After I followed Aria home, she went straight to her office and shut the door. I told myself I was giving her space, but the truth is, I stood in the hallway staring at that closed door, trying to find the courage to knock.
I never did.
This morning, I found her curled up on the couch, still wearing the clothes from last night. Her eyes were swollen, and one hand was tucked beneath her cheek. She’d cried herself to sleep.
I wanted to wake her up and tell her everything. I should explain to her why I’ve been pulling away and why I get upset anytime someone talks about babies. But I didn’t. Because if I tell Aria the truth, I’ll lose her.
And if she stays, I’ll spend the rest of my life waiting for the day she starts to resent me or wish she’d made another decision.
The folder cuts into my palm, and I look down at it. I’ve had all the tests, and I’ve seen specialist after specialist, but the one thing Aria wants most in this world I can’t give her.
I know what I need to do and that I should probably let her go.
Aria wants a family and a house filled with laughter and little footsteps. She wants the kind of love she never had growing up, and she deserves all of it. I’m the one thing standing in her way.
I stuff the folder into my briefcase, then lock it inside the cabinet in my office.
I have a two-hour operation this morning, and my patient deserves my full attention.
No matter what is falling apart at home or how badly I want to go downstairs and find my wife, I can’t carry any of that into surgery.
I take a few deep breaths, grab my coat, and walk out of my office.
By the time I step into the operating room, I’ve pushed everything down where it belongs. Thankfully, I’ve done this so many times that the procedure has become routine.
For almost two hours, I get to be exactly what everyone in that room expects me to be. Calm and controlled. It isn’t until I’m out of surgery and heading toward the cafeteria that everything comes rushing back.
Aria.
I pull my phone from my pocket and turn it on, hoping there’s a text, a missed call, anything from her, but there’s nothing. I type out a message anyway.
Hey. I’m just thinking of you. Love you.
I stare at the screen for a few seconds after I send it, hoping she’ll answer. When she doesn’t, I shove the phone back into my pocket and head into the cafeteria.
I’ll grab sandwiches for both of us and bring lunch to her office.. She might not want to see me, and I probably deserve that, but I need to try.
I know I can’t fix us, but I have to know she’s okay.
I’m paying for two sandwiches when Nurse Jenner appears beside me and reaches for one.
“Oh, thanks,” she says, smiling as she takes it. “That’ll save us some time. Do you want to meet down here or in your office?”
I stare at her for half a second before it hits me.
Fuck. I forgot I agreed to talk to her about the continuing education programs.
The sandwich was for Aria. Everything in me wants to take it back and tell Miss Jenner this can wait, but the chief of medicine has been pushing hard for participation. More nurses in the program means more funding, and we need that.
Still, there’s no way in hell I’m taking this conversation to my office. “Here is fine.”
I gesture toward a table in the center of the cafeteria, but she points to one near the edge. “It’ll be quieter over there.”
I shake my head and sit down at the table I chose. “This is good.”
Her smile slips for a second before she sits across from me.
I pull a notepad from my coat pocket and click my pen. “All right. There are a few options. Which programs are you considering?”
Miss Jenner takes her time unwrapping the sandwich and fixing her plate.
She takes a bite, then laughs softly like I said something funny.
I didn’t. She glances around the cafeteria before she starts talking about the programs. I try to listen, but sitting here with her is the last thing I want to be doing. I want to be with my wife.
Miss Jenner lists the pros and cons of each option, and I jot down notes while forcing myself to eat.
If I can get her to commit, maybe she’ll convince some of the other nurses to do the same.
Then the chief might finally get off my back, and the hospital will have enough staff that I won’t always be the one getting called in or staying late.
My phone sits beside my tray with the screen up, and I glance at it again.
Still nothing.
Then I look at the message I sent and see that Aria read it.
My stomach drops. She saw the text and didn’t respond. I’m losing my wife.