Page 91 of The Love Operation

Something cold flops around in my chest like a salamander crumping. I stare at the wall, Delenn’s words circling my head. They make sense. But I don’t like them.

“Ask yourself why you’re so resistant,” she adds, as if I’ve said something to contradict her.

“I honestly didn’t think I needed closure until I nearly sneaked out of my own office to avoid walking into the patient room he was in.” I rub my sweaty palms on my pants. “Anyway, go ahead and test my memory for your records so I can get to clinic. I’ll see you tonight for another round of the good stuff.”

Delenn nods, but her expression says it all: We’re not done here.

And then she tests me. There’s no question. My memory is still full-on chef’s kiss.

Me: Delenn needs help with one of her projects. Might go late, and I’ve got surgery first thing.

Isaac: You’re a busy woman.

Me: Sorry we won’t get to hang out tonight.

Isaac: It’s okay. I get it. Your patients need you.

Me: Thank you for understanding. It makes life easier.

Isaac: Just don’t forget about me.

Me: I won’t. Promise.

Isaac: Maybe I’ll catch a glimpse of you at the hospital today.

Me: If you see any blurs, that’ll be me.

Isaac: I love you. Kick spine today, my insanely talented blur.

Me: Kicking spines would boost business.

Isaac: As if you need more business.

Me: True. Kick hospital policy, my hospital hotshot.

Isaac:

I still haven’t told him I love him, but I don’t want to say it for the first time over text. So, I tuck my phone away and head back to my set of clinic rooms.

It buzzes in my pocket.

I smile, expecting another message from Isaac. Maybe we’ll keep this exchange going all day. Maybe I’ll even make mine a little spicy.

But my smile fades when I see the name.

It’s like someone squeezed a stress ball too hard in my chest, and it burst, rubbery beads ricocheting through my rib cage.

Benedict: Thanks for getting Dad in so soon. I’ve never seen him so eager to get to the hospital.

He still has my number?

Then again . . . I never deleted his.

Me: One person’s heart murmur is another’s answered prayer.

Benedict: Okay . . . I don’t know what that means. Is that like a medical proverb?

Me: My canceled surgery was due to a heart murmur. Your dad got the spot.