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"You can start by getting out of here," she replied.
"Something else? I really want to help you and your dad," I explained.
She sighed. "I don't really care if you want to help me or my dad. The fact is, you've ruined the concept of me accepting anything relatively close to helping from you. Even if you're genuine about your desire to help, all I see is a man who just wants to repay some good sex he had months ago."
As soon as she was done speaking, she turned away and started heading toward the hospital. "Nice to see you again, Dr. Sullivan. Now get lost."
In all thirty-five years of my life, no woman had ever told me to get lost. I have never been so turned on by it. Still, this was a pickle. I know she told me to get lost, but now I had a major reason to remain in Glen Allen.
Stacy
"What were you thinking?" I asked my father as I called him aside. "Selling the hospital? You just want to throw away what you and mom built to a random stranger?'
"I'm not throwing it away. When I say selling it, I mean he's going to be the one who owns it on paper, but at least we'd have enough to improve this place," he explained.
"Doesn't make sense." I crossed my arms, indicating the start of my stubbornness. "I don't even want that kind of thing. If he owns it on paper, it means he owns it. Even if we're still running it, it ceases to be Robert’s Hospital. It becomes the Ethan Sullivan Hospital: Glen Allen version."
"Did something happen between the both of you while you worked there?" he asked. "Wait, that reminds me. You stopped working there after the heartbreak issue. Could it be that Ethan was the one who…"
"What? No!" I denied it instantly.
I may have been angry with Ethan, but I didn't want anything that would ruin the good relationship he had with my father.
.
"Then what exactly is the problem?" he asked. "If you don't tell me, I won't understand. I'm not a psychic."
"I understand. I know that, but still," I said and my shoulders dropped. "It can be anybody for him."
"There isn't anyone else," he said and placed his hand on my shoulder. "I don't know what is it between you two, but you need to sort it out. Besides, he might not even take the hospital after he's seen just how much you're against it."
"I'm counting on it," I muttered.
"Dr. Roberts," Ethan called as he walked up to us.
I ignored him; even if I wasn't the Roberts he was referring to.
"Yes, Ethan?" Dad answered.
"About the hospital, I've come to two conclusions," he said as he raised two fingers to demonstrate. "One, since I'm on a one month leave, I'll love to work here alongside the both of you. That way we can bring people here using my presence. Two, it will be a good opportunity to wait and see if Stacy will finally approve of me. In getting this place that is."
"Oh, that makes sense," Dad agreed and turned to me. "What do you think?"
"You two should just do whatever you want." I rolled my eyes and switched my stance, with arms akimbo.
"So we're all in agreement then," Ethan said. "I'll get started first thing tomorrow. Looks like I'll be in your care, Stacy."
I didn't say anything and walked away. I found an empty room and stayed in there to think about everything. It had been five months after the end of what never began. I put in all my effort into working on my mind. I searched for the best things to do for struggling hospitals; most of them required money my father and I couldn't afford it on my own. In a way, I understood my father's reason for reaching out to Ethan to help.
Personally, I devoted myself to training my body as well. It helped me deal with the stress and the pain in my right hand. Ever since I had slapped him, I could swear on my life that my hand remained a permanent shade of red. No one else saw anything; I could have just been hallucinating. No matter what I did, my hand would still feel like I had just slapped him.
With time, as I made the conscious decision to forget about him completely, the pain in my hand disappeared. I tried my best not to see him, telling Allison not to give him my number no matter what, turning down his brother's wedding invite, and blocking any strange number that called me. The last part didn't end too well because a patient was trying to reach me.
Luckily I answered. The point was that I wanted to forget him, but he was back. The annoying thing was that the moment I saw his face, my heart started to pound stubbornly. If he stayed here long enough, I wasn't sure how long I could go without forgiving him.
I remembered his apology: it sounded like he had practiced for days just to get it off his chest.
Even when I poured out my words of frustration against him, I could see the hurt in his eyes.
