Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
I nudge my head to his now-closed office door. “The adonis who was just shown into your consultancy room.”
Since he is still lost, he checks his old-school booking calendar for the patient listed underneath my name. He has such an informal booking process all his patients’ appointments are made with their given names. The one penciled in for the final appointment of the day is under Andrik.
Dr. Hemway’s expression returns to the concerned, fretful one he wore when he first read my results before he slams his planner shut. “That’s confidential.” He guides me to the side of the waiting area. “As is anything you tell me.”
He builds the suspense so well I am tempted to ask if the cream he mentioned earlier also works for your mouth. Mine is suddenly parched.
“Why today, Zoya? You’ve been dodging my calls for months, so to say I was surprised when I saw your name listed on my schedule today is an understatement.”
“I was… uh… I…” Come on, brain. You’re usually more quick-witted than this. “The pain was reaching a level I could no longer ignore.” Since that isn’t a lie, it doesn’t sound like one.
Some of the concern on Dr. Hemway’s face clears. Not a lot. Just a little.
“That’s it? That is the sole reason for your visit to Chelabini today?”
I start my lie with a head bob. “Yes.”
He sees through my deceit instantly, and the disappointing flare it blazes through his eyes cuts through me like a knife.
“I was also hoping to see Aleena. It’s her birthday today.”
Aleena is my baby sister. I haven’t seen her since her last big birthday, and although I will most likely be turned away again today like I was two minutes into her eighteenth four years ago, I couldn’t let her day slip by without acknowledging that I want to be a part of her life.
When I walked out of our family home twelve years ago with a broken heart and a bag full of dirty clothes, I was walking away from our mother’s expectations for our lives, not her.
It was never about her.
Even with Dr. Hemway’s brooding mood announcing his patients’ confidentiality is of the utmost importance to him, I can’t help but ask, “Do you see her? Does she still come here?”
It takes him half a beat to answer, and his reply fills me with more relief than panic. “No.” My relief morphs into hurt when he murmurs, “But I specialize in infertility, and Aleena has never had…”
“To worry about that,” I fill in when words elude him. I smile to assure him the sympathy in his eyes isn’t necessary. “Two very different women cut from the same cloth.” He looks like he wants to strangle me when I push the boundaries of our friendship even further than a mishap in billing. “Has she visited Dr. Stoltz at all the past four years?”
“Zoya—”
“You don’t need to give me any details. Just a simple yes or no answer.”
His delay this time around has me sitting on pins and needles. The additional niggle to the constant pain forever invading my body is worth it when he abruptly snaps out, “No.”
Who knew one tiny word could offer so much relief? The weight on my shoulders seems manageable, and the curdling of my stomach simmers to barely a boil.
My reprieve is short-lived.
Dr. Hemway piles a heap of uncertainty back on when he hands me a card with an appointment for next month, along with a brochure for post-operative care following laparoscopic ablation. It reminds me of the hell I experienced two short years ago.
“You won’t be able to drive for a week or two, so you will need to organize to stay somewhere local after the surgery again.” I haven’t even combed through the minimal list of people I can rely on when he continues speaking, halting my search. “Kiara and I will happily accommodate you if you don’t mind nine p.m. bedtimes and watered-down whiskey.”
His offer knocks me back a step, but I hide it well. “You had me until watered-down whiskey.”
He returns my smile before lowering his eyes to his business card. “My phone number is on the back. I’m only a phone call away if you have any issues, day or night.”
I’m saved from looking like a sentimental shmuck by one of Dr. Hemway’s colleagues asking to have a word with him.
He signals that he will be with him in a minute before returning his focus to me. “Do you have any questions?”
The seriousness radiating out of him has me wanting to say something inappropriate. The reminder of his loved-up expression earlier stops me.
“I think you’ve covered everything. For what you missed, I’m sure your brochures will make up for.” My dramatic fan of the pamphlets I’m referencing isn’t as stellar since I left one-half of them on the desk in his examination room.