What He Left Behind

I cock my head. “What?”

“Hmm?” He presses his lips together, but that only makes it worse. “What?”

“You know what.”

He stops even trying, and that smile takes my breath away. “Dr. Klein was in the clinic this morning.”

“Oh yeah? And did you talk to him?”

“I did.” He’s beaming now. God, he’s beautiful when he’s this happy. “And uh, I told him I got cold feet before, and asked if the offer was still open.”

My jaw drops. “You actually asked him out?”

Michael laughs. “Come on, don’t sound quite so surprised.”

“Well, I…”

“It’s okay.” He reaches across the table and puts his hand on my arm. “It kinda surprised me too.”

“So, was the offer still open?” As if I need to ask.

Michael squeezes my arm, then withdraws his hand. “We’re having dinner tomorrow night. Then I guess, um…” He laughs, sounding nervous and relieved at the same time. “I guess we’ll see what happens.”

I chuckle, arching my eyebrow. “You don’t have to call him Dr. Klein over dinner, do you?”

“No. It’s just a habit at the clinic.” He smiles, and I’m surprised little hearts don’t appear in his eyes. “I guess I’ll have to get used to calling him Ben.”

The sound of the doctor’s first name hits me in the chest for some reason. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

“Just have to remember not to call him that at the clinic. Ah, hell. If I do, who cares, right?”

“Though hey, what better way to remind yourself you’re dating a doctor?”

“We’re not dating. It’s one—”

“Not yet.” I grin. “But after tomorrow…”

“We’ll see.” Michael picks up the menu, even though he and I have both memorized it a hundred times over. He gives it a cursory glance before he lays it down again and meets my gaze, that grin still crinkling the corners of his eyes. “This is so weird. I haven’t been on an actual date in ages.”

“Well, don’t expect me to come over and help you pick out what to wear.”

Michael snorts. “Right. That’ll be the day.”

“So where are you guys going?”

His lips quirk. “I don’t know. We didn’t get that far. We’re meeting at the clinic since we both know where it is.” He half shrugs. “I guess we’ll see what happens after that.”

I smile, though I’m not sure why it takes so much work. “I guess we will.”

After lunch, we both need to get back to work, but neither of us is in a huge rush on the way out to the parking lot. The walkway seems shorter today, though, and too soon, we’re at the curb.

Our eyes meet. This is usually the moment for “have a good one” and “see you next time” and “try not to choke anyone at work” before we both walk away—him to his car, me to my office. But we’re not moving, and we’re not speaking, and we’re not leaving.

My heart speeds up. “So, um…”

This silence is fucking stubborn. I need to get back to work before my boss gives me the evil eye, but I can’t make myself say good-bye.

Suddenly, Michael steps forward, puts his arms around me and hugs me tight. “Tomorrow night wouldn’t be happening if it hadn’t been for you.” His voice wavers a bit, and he whispers, “Thank you so much, Josh.”

“You’re welcome.” I hold him close and squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m so glad you’re back on an even keel.”

“Me too.”

He doesn’t let go. Neither do I.

“Good luck tomorrow,” I whisper. “I really hope this works out for you.”

“So do I.” He finally releases me, and when our eyes meet, his are clearer and brighter than they’ve been in a while. “Even if it doesn’t, I think…” He shrugs. “I think I’m okay with that. If it doesn’t work out with him, it will with someone else.”

“Of course it will. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

Michael smiles. “Well, I’ll let you know how it goes.”

I smile back. “I can’t wait to hear.”

Be good to him, Dr. Klein…





Chapter Twenty-One


The next night, as we have so many times over the years, Ian and I cuddle up on the couch with the animals to watch TV. Ariel is taking up more space than she has any right to. Rosie is on the armrest, letting Ian pet her while she stays firmly out of my reach. In front of us is a rerun of The Big Bang Theory—I can almost lip synch the dialogue because we’ve seen this one five hundred times, but the jokes are still funny. This is as normal as it gets in this house, but it feels all wrong.

I glance at my phone. It’s eight thirty.

By now, Dr. Klein and Michael are probably sitting in a restaurant somewhere, making conversation over drinks and appetizers, shyly fumbling their way through first-date nerves even though they’ve known each other for ages.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? We’re here, and Michael’s out there, and I wonder if I’m even more nervous than he is tonight.