Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I wished she wouldn’t…because it was done.
My ass had barely touched the chair when Anthony walked inside. “Dr. Beaumont, I need some help with this.” He helped himself to the armchair across from me, holding a stack of folders.
I set my bag on the desk and pulled out my laptop. “Shoot.”
“Daisy handed off her patients to me for a couple days, and I said yes because she said she was incapacitated at the moment. But I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. Any way I can hand them off to you?” He held up the folders.
She didn’t come in because of me.
And who suffered the most because of that?
The patients.
I didn’t come in yesterday for the exact same reason.
It had been stupid for us to get involved, but I did it anyway…because I knew she was the one.
Well…I’d thought she was the one.
I stared at him for a while before I stretched out my hand. “Yeah, I’ll take over.”
10
Daisy
Work was the one thing powerful enough to distract my mind, to make me forget my heartache, to stop me from replaying the same conversation over and over, thinking of what I should have said and what I shouldn’t have said.
But that wasn’t fair to my patients.
Because I was too depressed to focus.
If I ever suspected he’d have that reaction, I wouldn’t have suggested it.
I was a physician. I found solutions to problems. I thought he would understand that, but he took it the wrong way.
I didn’t call or text because I knew that was pointless. He needed some time to cool off, needed his space. Coming at him right now would just make it worse. That was another reason I didn’t go to work—so he wouldn’t have to see me.
If I’d really lost him…I wasn’t sure what I would do.
Mason broke my heart, and I moved on.
But this…this was different.
I couldn’t brush this one off.
I had to fix this. I had to make this right.
The first step of that was to give him space.
Even though that was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do.
After a couple days of lying on the couch, crying as I ate Taco Bell, I headed back to the clinic. It was like any other morning, and I walked inside, greeted my assistant, gave a quick hello to my colleagues, and then went into my office.
A moment later, Atlas walked by.
His eyes were focused on his office to the exclusion of all else.
He probably had no idea I was there, but he didn’t want to risk eye contact in case I was.
That meant he still needed more space.
Ugh. Fucking torture.
I went into Anthony’s office. “Hey, how are my patients?”
He sat behind his desk, in a collared shirt and tie. “Not sure. I was a bit overwhelmed, so I handed them off to Dr. Beaumont.”
I tried not to react, but I was overwhelmed with disappointment.
Anthony must have seen my reaction because he studied me deeper. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Totally. I’m sure my patients were in great hands.” I walked out and headed back into the lobby. Atlas was visible through his glass doors, working on his computer, wearing a t-shirt.
I literally had nothing to do unless I got those folders back.
I could send my assistant, but I wasn’t a pussy.
I smoothed out my dress, sucked in a breath, and then held my head high as I stepped into his office.
His gaze was on me, lifted from his screen, staring at me with eyes that were ghostly. There was no noticeable reaction, just a slight coldness, an indifference.
It hurt quite a bit.
I approached his desk and didn’t take a seat because I didn’t intend to stay. “Anthony told me he handed off my patients to you. I apologize for that. I gave them to him because I assumed he would handle them himself.”
He dug into his bag and set the folders at the edge of the desk. Then he went back to his computer, his eyes reading the words on the screen. “I ordered a couple labs and looped in a specialist. Haven’t found answers yet.”
I took the folders and held them to my chest. “Thanks…”
He kept his gaze on his screen, his eyes following the words.
I knew he still didn’t want to talk, so I walked out.
It stayed that way for a couple days, Atlas never approaching me for one-on-one conversations. While every other physician at the clinic got private follow-ups on their patients, I was abandoned.
The only interaction I had with him was during our staff meetings.
And even then…it was very little.
The frustration kicked in because he’d had enough time to cool off, but the flames of his white-hot inferno of rage continued to blaze on.
He acted like I was a villain—when I just tried to help him.
At the end of the day, everybody was getting ready to leave, and that was when I threw my paperwork down and marched to his office.