The Doctor Who Has No Ambition (Soulless 9)

“Something really bad must have happened.”

She wouldn’t give me details, probably to protect his privacy. “A lot of things happened at once, and he just couldn’t handle it. Everyone deals with trauma differently, and this seems to be how he’s dealing with it…or avoiding it.”

He must have lost a patient he really cared about. It was the only explanation I could think of. “Do you think this whole thing will make him go back? I mean, he saved Mr. Carlton’s life.”

“I really hope so,” she said with a sigh. “As much as I enjoy having Dex as part of our team, he’s not supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be saving lives. He’s supposed to be making a real difference in this world.”

I decided to Google him and see what I could find.

Just entering his name got a lot of hits.

He graduated from Stanford for his undergraduate degree—at eighteen. That would mean he graduated high school at something like fourteen years old. He went to Harvard for medical school and was done by nineteen. And then he went to Johns Hopkins for his surgical residency and was done in his early twenties.

Holy shit, this guy was literally a genius. Like Einstein-level genius.

But he didn’t act like it…at all.

He was playful and fun, having all the social skills that weren’t typical of someone so brilliant.

There were other articles about his work as the top heart surgeon in not just the country, but the world. He had celebrity clients, and he took on surgeries that were complicated, surgeries that other heart surgeons wouldn’t touch—and he was awesome at it. He also did ongoing research through NYU and Johns Hopkins, figuring out new technologies to help with their patients.

And now this guy was updating computers and installing gaming consoles?

It was such a fucking waste.

It actually hurt me.

Because he was a hero.

11

Dex

I stayed home for the rest of the week, watching TV on the couch, working out at the gym, heading to the grocery store for things to make for dinner every night. My mom preemptively gave me the rest of the week off because she knew I needed it.

I didn’t want everyone to question me about it. I knew the girls had no idea I was a doctor, and now that Sicily knew, the cat was out of the bag. Word traveled fast to all the clients I knew a few hours after it happened, so they would ask me questions about it too. I hoped by keeping my head down for a week, the excitement would pass and people would forget about it.

At least, I hoped.

No one in my family called or stopped by.

It was like they knew I needed space.

But I wasn’t naïve. Dad would show up at some point.

I was on the couch in my small apartment, watching the game, when a knock sounded.

“Here we go…” I set the beer down on the coffee table and walked to the door, opening it without even checking the peephole.

Yep. It was him.

He was in a gray pullover hoodie and black jeans, his muscular arms stretching the cotton of his sweater. His jaw was covered in a short beard, like he’d decided to skip the shave for a bit, even though he hardly ever did that. He stared at me with his eyes dark, innately brooding, and stayed silent like he didn’t need to say anything.

I stepped aside and silently ushered him inside.

He walked into my apartment and helped himself to a seat on the couch. He helped himself to the remote sitting there and turned off the game. His arms rested on his thighs and his hands came together.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“I really don’t care.”

I exhaled a breath through my nostrils, letting them flare in annoyance.

“Sit.” He nodded to the armchair that faced him.

This was my apartment, but my dad ran the show like it was his. But he was my dad, so I wouldn’t dare defy him. I wasn’t afraid of discipline because he’d never been that way. But I respected him so much that it didn’t matter how angry I was. I wouldn’t disrespect him or cross that line because the love was deep in my bones. So, I took a seat and stared at the floor.

“Son.”

I took my time before I lifted my chin and looked at him.

He stared at me for a long time, his hands together, his look deep and intense. “I’m proud of you.”

That was not what I expected him to say, and it hit me all the way down to my beating heart.

“You conquered your fear. You put aside your own issues and saved someone’s life. Mr. Carlton is home now with his wife—and his family flew in to see him. That happened because of you.”

It was too hard to look directly at him, so I shifted my gaze away. “Mom made me—”