Could a relationship as wonderful as what she and Adam had shared end just like that? With no warning, no arguments, nothing to make her suspect he had been unhappy? Had she been so caught up in Gramps’s illness that she’d missed Adam becoming unhappy with their relationship?
She hiccuped, fighting tears. She couldn’t cry. Not at work. She had patients to tend to.
“Liz, look at me right now,” Kelly ordered. “You were in Mr Keele’s room? Did he remind you of Gramps?”
Liz met Kelly’s concerned expression, and proceeded to spring a leak. Two leaks. Leaks that flowed freely down her cheeks, and Kelly hugged her.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I know how much you miss him.”
Another hiccup escaped her mouth. This one carried a half-hysterical edge. Her friend thought she was mourning the loss of her grandfather. In reality she mourned the loss of her best friend and lover, Adam.
“Adam and I are breaking up.”
Kelly looked startled. As if Liz’s words were the last thing she’d expected to hear. “I know you’ve been concerned lately, but every couple has arguments. Adam loves you. It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”
But they hadn’t argued. She hiccupped again. “He’s never said he loves me.”
Kelly paused, clearly taken aback by that admission. “Some things don’t have to be said with words for them to be true. I’ve seen how he looks at you. Take it from me, he’s crazy about you.”
Liz didn’t comment, just swiped at unwanted tears.
“He’s probably having a bad day and took it out on you,” Kelly comforted, giving Liz another quick hug.
“A bad month is more like it.” Wiping her palms over her scrub top, Liz pulled herself together. She was stronger than this.
She really had to get her act together. If not internally, she could at least put on a cheery front for her coworkers and patients. They deserved a smiling face and positive attitude. She smiled at her friend, counting her blessings that she had a friend like Kelly in her life. “I’m sorry for blubbering all over you like this.”
“No biggie.” Kelly gave her a quick hug. “I’m surprised you’ve held up as well as you have, with your grandfather having been sick so long, and then the long hours you’re working, and now Adam. Why are you pulling so many extra hours? When’s the last time you had a day off?”
“I’ve got next Monday and Tuesday off.”
“Until HR calls begging you to fill in for whoever isn’t coming to work that day.” Kelly gave her a knowing look. “Say no for once. Take those days and rest. After you catch up on your sleep things will look brighter.”
Liz nodded slowly.
Nausea constricted her throat and, not wanting to alarm Kelly any more than her friend already was, Liz gave her a hug, excused herself, and went to the ladies’ room to throw up.
CHAPTER SIX
“HI, MRS PROBST,” Adam said, glancing toward the woman sitting on the exam table. He didn’t personally know the hospital volunteer, but he’d seen her around the building from time to time.
He’d ask why she was there, but he knew.
Talk of May’s tumor could be heard throughout the hospital. He felt partially responsible as she’d originally been scheduled to see him on the day after Gramps had died. When he’d shuffled his schedule to go for the MRI and spinal tap, May had unfortunately been bumped a second time. He hadn’t blamed her when he’d heard she’d rescheduled with a different surgeon. Although he wouldn’t have chosen the particular one she’d opted to see.
“Dr Cline, this is my husband, John.” The woman introduced the man who sat in the chair pushed against the wall. Worry lines furrowed deep above his bushy salt-and-pepper brows.
Adam shook the man’s hand.
“You have to know why I’m here,” May continued, her bright eyes meeting Adam’s. “I’ve not kept my problems secret from the hospital staff.”
“I was sorry to hear about the tumor, Mrs Probst. And sorry that your appointments with me had to be rescheduled and you were forced to go elsewhere.” Adam opened her file, reviewed Dr Mills’s surgical notes. Inoperable.
He hated that the evidence pointed toward his having to concur with Dr Mills.
“John and I felt time was of the essence and a week seemed an eternity to wait to find out what was going on inside me.”
Adam understood well. Too well. He’d started a three-times-a-week injection yesterday morning that would hopefully slow the progression of his MS, would hopefully stop this exacerbation, prevent new ones from occurring. Waiting to see how he’d respond required patience he wasn’t sure he possessed.