I knew we would never get back together, so a part of me wished I’d never met him.
The heartbreak was too much.
But I knew that wish wasn’t really sincere.
Or maybe it was…because how could I go from Atlas to anyone else?
How could I ever love anyone else again…when they would never compare?
Ever.
13
Atlas
I expected Dr. Hamilton to address the breakup with Daisy.
He never did.
Our relationship didn’t change either. He treated me exactly as he had before, not a hint of resentment or anger. Maybe he was on my side. Maybe he knew Daisy had crossed a line instead of respecting my wishes.
I wouldn’t ask him, so I would never know.
I sat in my pod at the hospital, the beeps of the monitors intrusive at first, but after a couple hours, they were white noise. I could fall asleep to the sound if I were tired enough, and if the monitors were turned off, it would jolt me from sleep.
Daisy never texted.
Never called.
And as the time passed, the loss started to hit me harder.
When the anger was gone, there was nothing left behind but grief.
My penthouse felt bigger than it had before, felt lonelier. I spent all my time working, and while that had been perfectly fine before, I felt a bit unfulfilled now. She’d taken up a chunk of my life that somehow felt like both business and pleasure. She was the person I enjoyed the most, and her intellect was enough to drive me to keep up. It was stimulating, enjoyable. I missed her like crazy.
I wished it hadn’t ended that way.
I wished I’d told her the truth sooner.
I wished…for a lot of things.
Dr. Hamilton dropped into the chair beside me with three charts in hand. He spread them out on the table beside him then moved his mouse so the screen would wake. The nurses hated it when the doctors hogged multiple charts at once, but they never said anything to him, because he was Dr. Hamilton.
The one time I’d done it, I got death threats. “I’m waiting on some results then I’ll leave for the night.”
He finished typing up his notes before he regarded me. “Everything is looking good. Better progress than last time.”
“I guess it’s because of the sample of people. More compatible.”
“And hopefully we figure out why they’re more compatible.” He didn’t turn in his chair and get back to work. He stared for a while.
That was when I knew it was coming. It was smart to be proactive about it. “It’s been hard, but…I’ll get through it.” Finding a woman you genuinely loved, who felt perfect straightaway, and then having to walk away…was one of the hardest thing I’d ever done.
He continued to stare.
“How’s she doing?”
Silence.
Now I felt the change in the energy, the animosity that surrounded him with palpable intensity.
“You made a mistake, Atlas.”
I stared, shocked by what he said.
“She’s one in a million. And lightning doesn’t strike twice.”
I inhaled a slow breath, already understanding what I’d lost. “We want different things—”
“You don’t want different things. Because she wants to be with you, regardless of the sacrifices she has to make for that to happen, and you want to be with her just as much. My daughter is just like me, looking for solutions the second there’s a problem. You made the mistake of misinterpreting her intentions, of merging one woman’s past with your new woman’s future. Even if I’m wrong, even if you get to that place and she does leave you, you had that time with her. You took the risk—because of the enormous reward. There is only one Daisy Hamilton. I understand I’m biased, but my daughter is one hell of a woman, and you won’t find anyone else to hold a candle to her. All she wants to do is try to help you. Not because you need to be fixed. But because she wants to make you happy, to give you back something that someone else said you could never have. You worked with her at the clinic, and I’m shocked that you can’t figure that out on your own. She’s the most selfless person I know. She wants to help people—regardless of the cost to herself. So, get your shit together before it’s too late.”
I was floored by everything he’d said, feeling the pent-up anger, feeling the suppressed rage in the restraint of his voice. “Dr. Hamilton—”
“That’s all I’ll say about it.” He turned in his chair and looked at his screen again. “Do what you want.”
Our relationship was different.
He was quiet now.
He only talked about work and never made small talk about anything. He barely looked at me, barely acknowledged my existence. He had been fine before, but something had set him off and he’d plunged into a silence he couldn’t shake.
I’d hoped this wouldn’t happen.
I’d hoped he would be compassionate and understanding…like he always was.