Page 77 of The Love Operation

Chapter 19

Well, That Was Orgasmic

Isaac: I know you’re in surgery, but I can’t focus. Please don’t let this break us.

Isaac: I’ll fix it, Cord. I promise.

Isaac: I know I screwed up. I should’ve fought harder.

I stare at his texts the second I pull my gloves off. My fingers tighten around my phone. Then I shove it into my pocket.

I can’t deal with him right now.

Surgery was a welcome distraction—anger made my hands steady, my mind sharp. The screws went in with precision. The rods bent effortlessly into place. It felt good to channel fury into something useful.

Now I just need to get to clinic and hope I don’t run into—

Isaac.

He’s right there when I step into the hallway.

For a second, I think I’ve conjured him from exhaustion and frustration. But no—he’s real.

I keep walking, eyes forward, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

“Dr. Wren.” His voice is low, almost pleading.

I hate how it makes my chest tighten. In a short time, he’s become my person. And I don’t want to lose him.

But what he did wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot.

I stop and face him. He looks awful, like he rose straight out of hell after a thirteen-hour shift and was still expected to make dinner.

My heart reaches for him, but I clench my jaw and look away. “What?” I snap.

“I spoke with the committee.” His voice is subdued, careful. “I can give you the details if you want, but bottom line—your OR blocks have been restored.”

My stomach tightens at the whiplash of emotions. The fight, the fallout, the desperate texts—and now, just like that, it’s fixed.

I don’t know if I want to scream or exhale in relief.

I force my voice to remain neutral. “Thank you.”

Then I turn and start walking.

For a second, I think that’s it. That he’ll let me go. But then, soft, barely above a whisper—

“Please.”

Something in me wobbles, pulls me to a stop. “We can’t do this here,” I mutter. I want to punish him, which is weird because I also want to run into his arms.

Isaac steps closer. “Cord, I’ll quit right now if I lose you over this.”

I spin. “You don’t mean that.”

He lifts his chin. “You think I don’t?”

“Isaac . . .”