The Girl Who Always Wins (Soulless 13)

But after the fifteenth visit, I found something. “He was prescribed Viagra.”

Dex looked up from his chart. “It’s not on the medication list.”

Daisy looked up too.

“But if he were to take Viagra every single day, it wouldn’t be surprising to have this many heart attacks.” My mind worked quickly, finding an explanation within a few seconds. “He has so many pills to take, he’s probably taking the Viagra by mistake.”

“Shit.” Dex turned to Daisy, his eyes wide. “I bet that’s it.”

Daisy must have agreed because she threw her stuff down and darted out of the room. “I’ll call the hospital.” She ran in her heels to her office to make the call.

I shut the folder and leaned back in the chair. “Hope we figured it out in time.”

Dex grabbed a sandwich and relaxed in his chair, taking a big bite. “Fuck, me too.”

“Thanks for coming by to help.”

“Anytime.”

Daisy came back a few minutes later. “I got the message to his doctor, but I’m going to head to the hospital anyway.”

Dex picked up a sandwich and held it out for her.

“I don’t have time for that.” She grabbed her folder and bag and darted off without saying goodbye.

“Damn.” He turned in her chair and watched her go. “I’ve never seen Daisy turn down a meal.”

I watched through the window. She strutted to the main doors then stepped onto the sidewalk outside, my heart going with her. “Yeah, there’s only one thing she cares about more than food. People.”

A few more days passed, and Daisy and I didn’t talk about that final conversation in my penthouse. We discussed Mr. Northridge and his recovery, new patients, basically work. She was either giving me my space…or she knew it was over.

It was the end of the workday, so everyone gathered their things and went home.

I stayed—because I always stayed.

All I had was work. My parents didn’t invite me over for dinner in the middle of the week—because they were dead. I didn’t have a sister to tease—because she was dead too. Because I didn’t pick them up from the airport like I should have. And then I couldn’t make my own family, and no woman wanted to be with a man who was sterile.

The door opened and Daisy emerged.

I knew the moment had arrived—because she didn’t have her bag or paperwork.

My heart tightened, a rush of chemicals dropping into my bloodstream, anxiety to put me on edge, adrenaline to heighten my focus. I took a few deep breaths, trying to dissipate them in my blood.

With her eyes on me, she approached my desk. “Are you ready to talk?”

I would never be ready. “Yeah.”

She took a seat, her ankles crossed, her hands in her lap, her eyes a little uneasy. She was normally fearless, normally so confident she was arrogant, but she was completely unsure of herself in this moment.

I lowered my gaze, organizing the words I’d share. “I dropped a lot on you, and I think us having our space to process it was necessary. I’m just going to say this.” I spoke with a calm voice, I adopted a calm expression, but inside, I was dying. I’d been dead inside since that conversation, the precipice of my downfall. I fell in love with a woman who believed in family above all else—and that was the one thing I couldn’t give her. “I want you to really think about this. You’re smart, so I know you can do that. Our relationship has only scratched the surface, so it would be much easier for us to go our separate ways now than wait years and see where it goes…when we both know it won’t have the ending that you want. Don’t say that you’re okay with my situation unless you’ve really given it some thought. Because when a woman goes through that phase of her life, trying to have a family, her reactions are biological. It’s intense. It’s instinct. You can act like it’s not a big deal now, but it will be a big deal for you at that time.”

“Atlas—”

“I want you to think about it. Please do that for me.”

She released a deep breath she’d been holding.

“Not just for you, but for me. Because I can’t go through that again. I can’t be with a woman who says she’s okay with it…and then changes her mind and leaves. It wasn’t just losing my wife that hurt. It was the pain of inadequacy, of feeling like less of a man because I can’t fulfill my biological purpose. It’s really…fucking shitty. I can’t articulate it better than that.”

Her eyes filled with that look I despised—pity.

“While I give it serious thought, can I still be with you?”

My heart clenched.

“Because I miss you.”

Fuck, I missed her too. Missed her more than she understood. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”