“So it was abnormal?” He sounded alarmed, so I patted his thigh.
“I can’t tell you either way. Doctor/patient confidentiality is a thing.” I kept my voice low and soothing yet firm.
“But I’m your boyfriend.” He gave a resigned sigh. This was the first time he’d used the word, and the significance wasn’t lost on me.
But rather than address that land mine, I said, “And she’s my patient. That matters too.”
He made a frustrated noise. “I hate not knowing.”
“Sorry.” I didn’t pat him again because his stony face didn’t exactly invite touch. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Of course not.” Eyes widening like he was surprised at my offer, he frowned. “I can be upset at the situation and still want you here.”
“Oh.” I was more familiar with people shutting me out when they were frustrated, starting with my parents and continuing through my exes.
“I respect your professionalism.” He rolled his shoulders before he touched the back of my hand with his thumb. “I’m just worried about my sister.”
I nodded. I couldn’t tell him it was nothing because it wasn’t, so instead, I rolled my hand over, lacing our fingers together and squeezing. It was the best I had.
Still holding hands, I turned my attention to the movie. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Teddy had warned, and I had more fun than I would have thought, joking with Teddy and picking the movie apart with Adam. Hanging out with Adam always made me feel better, even with zero chance of any bedroom action. We were friends now. Okay, more than friends.
Boyfriend. He’d said the word so easily. The word and what it meant in terms of potential heartbreak scared me, but it also felt right. Being here with him, tension over Ramona and all, was exactly where I belonged.
Adam was the first to get sleepy, yawning and stretching while Teddy was still watching the movie, no signs of sleep there.
“Stay?” Adam whispered to me.
Again, I didn’t have to think about my response. He needed me, so I’d be here. “Yeah. I can stay. Probably a good idea in case you need your heavy-duty med later. But text Ramona. Make sure she’s okay with the idea of me staying over with her kid here.”
“She’ll be fine with it.” He dutifully pulled out his phone and sent the text before his eyes flickered shut. It wasn’t long before he was softly snoring next to me on the couch, and I wasn’t surprised when my phone buzzed with an incoming message.
You’re at Adam’s? Did you tell him?
A series of impressive explosions happened on the TV, and the tense music added to my stiff muscles as I replied. Of course not. Confidentiality. I told you I wouldn’t. He’s not feeling the best, which is why I’m here, but I can leave if you’re not comfortable.
Her response came quickly. No, you can stay, especially if Adam needs you. Sorry. I’m all on edge and moody and still not sure what the heck I’m doing.
Take your time, I counseled, even though I worried about causing a rift with Adam. You don’t have to decide now.
She came back with a fast reply. I want this baby. That’s not the issue. It’s everything else. Like telling Darren. How do you know if someone is the one for you when you’ve been burned so many times?
I don’t know. I gave her my honest truth. She was braver than me, and she was asking the same questions I had swirling in my own head. Past hurts didn’t simply evaporate in the face of present happiness. Adam calling me his boyfriend felt good, but all the warm fuzzies in the world couldn’t guarantee the future. But Ramona didn’t need my existential crisis on top of everything else she was dealing with, so I added, Trust your gut.
My own abdomen gave a sympathetic clench. It was easy to counsel Ramona to trust and hard as hell to do it myself.
Twenty-Nine
Adam
“You’re going to hate me.” It wasn’t the best opening for a phone call, but it was all I had.
“I could never hate you.” Quinn’s voice was sunny, matching the too-bright glow of that Sunday afternoon. Thanks to the doctor whom he’d covered for on Wednesday, he had his first day off after working a bunch of days in a row. He deserved to be in a good mood, and I could tell from the soft clinking noises that he was likely already cooking.
Damn it. Now I felt even worse. “Ha. Don’t be so sure. I’ve got to take a rain check. Again. I know.”
I’d offered to take the evening off as well so we could have some time together, and I’d been truly looking forward to Quinn’s cooking, mountain of vegetables and all.
“It’s fine.” Quinn’s tone didn’t lose much brightness, which perversely made me feel worse, not better. “What’s up? More babysitting?”