Page 53 of The Doctors Will See You Now

Why in vaginas was he smiling?

This wasn’t exactly a picture-worthy moment—me in my scrubs, Eli dressed like he was about to go to the goddamn Oscars, and an entire waiting room full of pregnant women who were seconds away from grabbing some popcorn and settling in for a show. Not to mention the fact that we’d broken up months ago.

“I’m definitely surprised,” I muttered, and his smile grew wider.

Jesus Christ. This was just like him, being too absorbed in his plan to read me. I wasn’t thrilled with his arrival, and I knew it was written all over my face.

I had never been the type of girl who could school her facial expressions into neutrality if the urge to freak the fuck out was overwhelming. No. I was the girl who freaked the fuck out. Today’s emotional meltdown just happened to be in the form of a little wooden Melody, slack-jawed, eyes wide, and spine as stiff as a board.

“I miss you,” he said, urging me to take the outrageous bouquet of flowers—that I was most likely allergic to—from his hand.

The monstrosity would’ve made a fantastic prop for Saturday Night Live, and with my excessive allergy to most bulbs, pollen, and buds, a slapstick skit wouldn’t be too far behind.

Despite all this, as a means to avoid a goddamn scene, I did the polite thing and took them from his hands. Pastel petals of tulips and daisies and roses dancing before my eyes, I couldn’t see anymore.

I attempted to look above them, then to the left of them, and then to the right, but it was useless, and once my nose started to itch and my face began to tingle, I wasn’t sure if Eli was trying to profess his love or kill me.

If the plan was murder by anaphylaxis, surely, I had to give him props for creativity.

“You came all the way to New York because you missed me?” I asked and set the flowers on the reception desk in an effort to get them away from me. Melissa gave me a catty smile, apparently gearing up for her next move.

One sneeze. Two sneezes. Three more sneezes and I’d say it was official, the death petals had permeated my nose. Fantastic.

“Uh…” Melissa sighed in annoyance from her perch behind the desk. “Those are blocking my view of the waiting room, Load-y.”

And there it is.

I understood her frustration because, yeah, Eli had officially bought the world’s largest bouquet, but I also didn’t really care. It was fucking Melissa. She only spent five percent of her workday looking out on the patients anyway. She could handle one minute of flowers blocking her view of reception.

Plus, I was still a little fucking busy.

“Are you okay? Are you sick?” Eli touched my shoulder, and his eyes assessed me with concern.

“No,” I said with a shake of my head and a most likely disgusting sniffle of my nose. “I’m not sick. I’m just allergic.”

“Allergic?”

“To the flowers.”

“You’re allergic to flowers? When did that happen?”

“Uh…it happened about twenty-nine or so years ago.” He still looked confused. Goddamn, why had I liked him again? “Around my time of birth.”

“Seriously?”

I nodded, but he still looked confused.

“But I used to buy you flowers all of the time.”

“No,” I refuted. “You actually bought me flowers once, and you stopped once you realized flowers weren’t the way to my heart unless you wanted to kill me.”

“Shit,” he muttered and watched me apologetically blow my nose into a tissue I’d snagged from the reception desk. “This isn’t going the way I wanted it to.”

“I was hoping this would be romantic,” one woman whispered behind me.

“I know,” another one added. “I don’t think it’s going as planned.”

“He’s going to need to change up the game plan if there’s any hope,” a third woman chimed in.