Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Yeah.”
“Now that I’m approaching the last fifteen years of my career, I worry what will happen when I’m gone. Who will take care of the patients who need care? Who will prolong their lives so they can spend more time with their families? I always hoped that one of my children would be interested in my professional specialty, so they could take care of the company when I’m gone, continue on with the work I prepared them for. But…that never happened. They’ve watched me bear the turmoil their entire lives. That’s probably why.”
“Did you suggest it?”
“I would never suggest it. They’d feel obligated. I wanted them to pursue whatever they wanted with their lives.” His fingers stopped typing, and he turned in the chair to regard me. “But I have you.”
I stared blankly, unsure what that meant.
“You’re young. You’re brilliant. And you have the most important component of medicine—heart. I want you to replace me. I want you to keep my work going when I’m no longer able to do it myself.”
For the second time in my life, I was truly in shock. Absolutely floored. Stunned. My mind an incoherent cacophony of emotions.
As if he hadn’t just said that, he turned back in his chair and kept typing.
I was in the lab when he walked in.
Now that the trials were underway, I took on the second research project in the queue so we wouldn’t waste time waiting around for the trials. That took months, even years.
Dr. Hamilton put on his gear and stood across from me. “Where are you?”
“Protein synthesis.”
He pulled on his gloves and got to work.
In silence, we worked across from each other.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about the last thing he’d said to me.
I was his protégé.
And if that was true, then my job at the clinic had an expiration date.
Because I couldn’t be in two places at once.
“We’re going to the cabin the weekend after next. Would you like to come along?”
I stilled at the question, my fingers turning rigid against the bulb that I held. I’d seen Daisy at the clinic throughout the week, but I’d been so busy that I’d barely spoken to her, and when I did, it was only about patient care. We were both so devoted to our jobs that we didn’t get distracted by each other at work. “I’ll talk to Daisy about it.”
“I’m inviting you as my guest.”
Separation of church and state. “Alright, I’ll be there.”
He continued to work. “Besides, Daisy won’t mind.”
“She won’t?”
He finished one test tube then returned it to the rack before he began the next one. The glass apparatus was on the table beside us, and after we processed it, we separated the layers in the centrifuge. “She told me she really likes you.”
“Really?” I stopped what I was doing, wearing a big-ass grin on my face, imagining her telling her dad how she felt about me, of all people.
He looked up and stared at my smile. Then he mirrored it with his own. “Yes.”
“What else did she say?” Now I felt like two coworkers gossiping.
“She likes being with someone who’s smart like she is. You keep up with her. You disagree with her but still respect her views. You’re a tough boss, you’re ambitious, you care about your patients. Stuff like that.”
I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. “Awesome.” I knew she wanted to be my baby. Fucking knew it.
Dr. Hamilton got back to work. “You make her happy. Keep making her happy.”
17
Daisy
Whenever we were at the clinic, it was all business.
Atlas was in his office most of the time or floating around to my colleagues, brainstorming about their patients as a team. He led our meetings with a slight temper, like we were never moving fast enough, every day and every week. Sometimes he wasn’t there, and I assumed he was at the lab with my father.
But it was professional, like there was nothing personal between us at all.
I’d thought it would be more challenging to remain platonic, but we were both so absorbed in our work that we kinda forgot about each other.
Midweek, I went to his office after everyone had left.
He sat at his desk, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes closed.
I stilled as I looked at him, unsure if he was asleep.
Without opening his eyes, he said, “Thinking.”
“Hey, I don’t judge you if you were getting some shut-eye.”
His lips widened into a smile before he opened his eyes. “If that were the case, I’d be on the couch.”
“What were you thinking about?” I took a seat in one of the armchairs, my bag beside me.
He dropped his arms and leaned forward, his arms moving to the surface of the desk, his fingers coming together. “Everything. My patients. Our patients. The trials.”
“How are the trials going?”
The intensity in his eyes deepened, like he was reliving his morning at the hospital. “It’s too soon to tell. It’ll be at least another week before we see a change in symptoms. Another week before we can do the biopsies. On pins and needles about it.”