Page 18 of Say My Name

“Tabs don’t equal a model.”

“You were also making notes.”

“It’s a comparison matrix.”

He considers this. “How is that different?”

“It isn’t based on a numerical score.”

“Are you assigning rankings?”

“Maybe.”

“Then you built a model.”

“I’m comparing relevant information so I can make an informed medical decision.”

“What information?”

“You received permission to ask about the binder. I didn’t agree to present my selection methodology.”

“There’s a spreadsheet, isn’t there?”

“There might be.”

“Elena.”

“It’s one sheet.”

His mouth twitches. “How many columns?”

“That is none of your business.”

The second course rescues me. We talk about the menu and whether thirty deserves celebration. “The Northbridge retention schedule is a mess,” I say between bites. “Their attrition assumption is off by six percent.”

“I know,” he says. “I was waiting for you to find it.” For several minutes, dinner is just two colleagues dissecting a bad model, the familiar rhythm we’ve had since the year he hired me.

Then the plates are cleared.

“Why do you want a stranger?” he asks.

I turn the stem of my glass between my fingers. “Strangers are uncomplicated.”

“Are they?”

“In this situation, yes. The clinic handles screening and the legal agreements. The lines are drawn before anything starts. No one can redraw them later.”

“Simpler than what?”

I look up. His voice is quiet. He isn’t trying to corner me, and some part of me wants him to understand.

I could give him the answer I’ve given the clinic. I’m thirty. I have the financial resources and support system to raise a child. I don’t want to wait for a relationship that may never happen. Every word would be true. None of it would explain why I chose an anonymous donor.

“My ex was older than me,” I say. “He started as my mentor.”

Dominic’s hand pauses near his glass. “At work?”

“Yes. He had more influence and experience, and I thought he believed in me. I was ambitious, but I was also young enough to mistake his attention for proof that I belonged in rooms I’d already earned my way into.”