The Doctor Who Has No Chance (Soulless 11)

“Yeah, but you weren’t stuck between two women, though. Not really the same thing.”

“You aren’t stuck between two women either.”

I gave him a blank stare. “Uh, do you not remember the last year…?”

“You picked Sicily. Period. And I get she doesn’t want there to be a choice, but you loved Catherine with everything you had, were destroyed when she left you. And when you had the opportunity to get her back, you still chose Sicily. I think that’s an incredible declaration of love. She needs to change her perspective.”

I shifted my gaze down to the bottle between my fingertips. “I didn’t think about it like that.”

“And I don’t think you still love Catherine the way you think you do.”

I looked at him again.

“I think you really just needed closure, answers to your questions, and validation that your marriage wasn’t a lie. I think when you got that, you got a piece of yourself back.”

“I don’t know… Watching her cry made me feel like shit.”

“Loving someone and caring about them isn’t the same thing as being in love with someone. I don’t think you’re in love with Catherine. I think you’re in love with Sicily. Because if that weren’t true, you would have taken Catherine home, and that would have been the end of it.”

I studied my brother, looking at him with new eyes. “When did you become so emotionally aware?”

He shrugged. “Being a father and a husband will do that to you…along with a string of regrets.”

I drank my beer and let my gaze shift to the window, seeing the lack of frost since winter was almost concluded. Soon, there would be flowers in the park, humidity in the air, and sunshine. It was time to turn over a new leaf.

“Whoever this guy is, he’s got nothing on you. Get your woman back.”

“He’s actually Zach Beaufort.”

“As in, Zach that lives in the Trinity Building?”

I nodded.

“He’s still got nothing on you, Dex.”

“He’s a billionaire. I’ll never be a billionaire.”

“Sicily doesn’t care about that, so that doesn’t matter.”

No…she didn’t care about that.

“There’s nothing that guy can do to earn her heart, so you have time to make this right.”

I sat at my desk at the office, going over lab work for the patient I would see after lunch.

Sicily walked inside, wearing a floral dress that was cinched around her narrow waist and heels. It was a warm day, springtime in its infancy, and she’d already adapted her wardrobe for the occasion. My lunch was on a tray, and she bent over slightly, some of her hair falling forward, her necklace bouncing slightly, and set it down.

It’d been nearly two weeks since our awkward conversation, and things had started to feel more normal again. There would always be this weirdness between us now, but at least it wasn’t so potent.

“This new bakery just opened a block over. Thought you’d like to try it.”

“Thanks.” I eyed the plate and saw the vegetarian sandwich and the salad, along with a bag of baked chips. I lifted my gaze and looked at her, a little mesmerized by how bright her eyes looked that afternoon with the sun coming in through the window behind me. I hadn’t tried to talk to her again because I thought it was good to have some space, to let the dust settle first. “Everything looks great.”

She dropped her gaze, like my look was too much. “So, we have a patient coming in later today who’s on the transplant list. I thought I should give you a heads-up…they’re hoping they can put you on call to do it.”

I snapped out of my thoughts of the two of us and grabbed the schedule she placed on my desk every morning. The list of the patients was there, but I usually focused on the first half before lunch, and then the second half afterward.

“Hope that’s okay.”

“Um…” I pulled the patient’s name and got their files open on my computer. “I haven’t done a transplant in a long time.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, Dex.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that…” I scrolled through the imaging on the screen.

“I’m not belittling the task. I’m just completely confident in you.” She turned away from the desk and headed to the door.

I shifted my gaze away from the screen and watched her leave my office, swaying those beautiful hips, carrying herself with the kind of poise royals used on a daily basis. I couldn’t believe I’d had that naked body in my bed…and I let her go.

“The risks for a transplant are high. There’s nothing I can personally do, as a surgeon, to reduce those risks, because it all comes down to the compatibility of your body with the organ donor.” I tried my best to ease the anxiety of my patients because a calm mind was essential for recovery, but when it came to something of this magnitude, there was nothing I could really say. “But I can tell you that I’m the best, and that I’ll do my best because I always do my best.”