Dr. OB (St. Luke's Docuseries #1)

Or maybe I was a fool for being so upset by it. I honestly couldn’t tell.

But, justified or not, I couldn’t ignore these feelings.

It felt like Eli all over again. Cavalier and brushing things off that should have been talked about and discussed.

Will should have given me a heads-up. He should have told me.

But he didn’t.

I tried to take a deep breath and think for a minute. I didn’t think he was out cheating on me.

But I was upset.

This felt exactly like the bullshit my ex used to put me through.

The second I’d made the decision to end things with Eli, I promised myself that I would avoid getting involved with men who were careless with my feelings.

God, what if this was why he didn’t want to tell the people in the office? What if I really was just another work fling, one in a line of flings he’d been having for ages?

Maybe he’d actually done me a favor. I would have looked like a fucking fool in public. Now, I only had to feel like a fool on the inside.

Like a moth to a flame, my brain sprinted toward the irrational need of dissecting every single moment that had ever occurred between Will and me. Have I missed something along the lines, here? Some kind of red flag? Within seconds, my mind pulled a memory out of storage and pushed it before my eyes. It was Will and me, in the office, inside of an empty patient room and seconds away from having sex.

“What? There are perks to doing this here,” he’d said through a laugh and with a condom held between his fingertips.

The way he’d joked about it, having sex while he was at work, had taken me by surprise and stunned me silent. Immediately, he’d noticed, though, and answered my unspoken question of “Have you ever done this at work?” with, “Never.”

He had looked me directly in the eyes and said Never.

And yet here I sat, listening to Emily moan at the work of his above average penis.

Goddammit. He’d lied to me.

Instantly, my body revolted at the thought. My stomach clenched, my heart ached, and my eyes filled with tears.

Why couldn’t he be honest with me?

It was truly amazing how an answer compiled of five letters could fill your head with doubts and instantly caused you to question your trust in someone.

Fucking hell, I hated the way it made me feel. I was wrong—this wasn’t like my relationship with Eli. It was a million times worse.

Right then, in that moment, I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. I didn’t want to be in his apartment when he got home tonight, and I didn’t want to have a long, exhausting conversation where he did his best to resolve the situation and I took the blame on myself in order to make it happen. I just…wanted to be anywhere else but with Will.

I hopped off the couch, tossed my scrub pants and shoes back on, grabbed my shit and headed out the door. And since I couldn’t go home to Bill and Janet’s, five minutes later, I was in a cab heading toward the Hyatt Regency.

Once I checked in to my room, I sent Will a quick text letting him know I wouldn’t be there tonight, and I turned off my phone.



Me: Janet called. Needs my help. I won’t be there tonight.



The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t have much of an appetite anyway. Fuck Will and his fucking pancakes.





The subway was a little more crowded than usual as I rode home from my board meeting that night. I’d have said I was excited to see Melody, but I’d gotten a succinct text message from her during the meeting, and by the time I got out, she hadn’t answered any of my calls.

And after I’d sent her a text that said, If you don’t at least send me a message and let me know everything is okay, you can’t get pissed at me for showing up to Bill and Janet’s unannounced… ?, she’d sent back a quick, Everything is okay. See ya tomorrow at work.

Her short response left me feeling unnerved, like something was going on, but I tried to not read into it. I knew Janet could be a little trying sometimes, especially if it had to do with some sort of Jazzercise emergency.

So, after approaching the board tonight with my idea for the clinic and having them turn me down due to lack of funding, I set my focus to moving on to Plan B.

Group messages with Kline, Thatch, and Wes weren’t my normal MO, but if I was going to get them all in one place quickly, I figured this was my best chance. A phone call would open all of that air space up for too much bullshit and trash-talking.



Me: I need a meeting.



Thatch: Like, AA? Are you on the booze, William?



Christ. So much for cutting through the bullshit.



Me: No, Thatch. I’m not on the booze. And I’d appreciate if you didn’t go spreading that around the medical community.



Thatch: I wouldn’t worry too much about me ruining your rep, bro. I’m not into torpedoing already sinking ships.



Me: Fuck you.



Thatch: Aw, I love you too.



Kline: Maybe he means a psychologist. He did have all of that emotional trauma from watching his parents bang growing up.



Me: You too? Are there any adults in this message?



Wes: I haven’t said anything.



Me: You’re my new favorite, Wes.



Wes: I mean…I was thinking it. I just didn’t say it.



Me: Screw you guys.



Kline: A meeting you say?



Me: Yes. With the three of you.



Thatch: I thought you hated us?



Me: I could be persuaded to change my mind…with a meeting.



Kline: I’m free tomorrow morning.



Wes: So am I. And I’m in the city tomorrow.



Me: Thatch?







Me: Thatch…



Kline: You know what he wants. Just do it.



Me: Sigh. I love you, mighty Thatch warrior. Your seed is the strongest in the land.



Wes: You must really want this meeting.



Thatch: My office, 8 a.m., fools. Cassie and I have a lunch bang that I don’t want to be late for.



Ignoring his propensity for oversharing and refusing to engage, I left them with a simple agreement and backed out of the message.



Me: See you then.



Scrolling through my contacts to Melody’s number, I hit send and listened as the call rolled to voice mail one more time.

Frustration creased the corners of my eyes, and I rested my head on the wall behind me. Her lack of response had the irrational side of my brain threatening to go haywire. Over the past few weeks, I’d found that even a single night without Melody lying beside me messed up my sleep pattern.

I wanted her here, with me, and quite frankly, I wanted it every night.

I have to convince her to move in with me. Another fight for another day, I mused.

But for now, after a long day, I wanted nothing more than to sink myself into Melody and fall fast asleep, but thanks to her disappearing act, the latter would have to do.