Page 60 of Summer with the Single Dad

He shook his head.

“It’s exhilarating. They don’t call surgeons arrogant for nothing. It’s a high unlike anything else.” The sparkle in her gaze dulled a little. “But it’s also a privilege. Mr. O’Malley—Clarence—trusted me. He trusted me to do everything in my power to save him.”

“And you did.”

She shook her head and glared at him. “No. I didn’t. I allowed my personal life into the OR and my mind was not entirely on my patient. I messed up and he died. He died.”

“Accidents happen.”

Her glower intensified. “Not to me.”

“Justine …”

“Not. To. Me. If a patient dies on my table, it is because the sutures won’t hold, it is because they were too far gone already. It is because of a complication. It is not because I screwed up. Until that day. When I did. When it cost a man his life. When it cost a wife her husband, and children their father. Because I couldn’t keep my feelings on the other side of the door long enough to repair a man’s extremely damaged heart. But it was a heart I could have fixed. I know it.” A tear slid down her cheek and she rolled her lips inward. “You say that Mr. O’Malley would forgive me and that I should forgive myself, but I can’t. When I try, the guilt won’t let me. My heart won’t let me. Anytime I feel joy, the guilt creeps up and stomps on that joy. It reminds me that my patient will never experience joy again. That his wife and children are grieving. How can I, in good conscience, laugh or smile or—” She tossed the woods some side-eye. “when my patient will never get to experience those things again? Because of me. What gives me the right?”

“People make mistakes. It’s what makes you human. You are human.”

“I’ve been avoiding you because when I’m with you, when I’m with your girls, I feel joy.”

He squeezed her hand. “I feel joy when I’m with you too.”

She pulled her hand free. “And I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Now it was really raining and he couldn’t tell what were tears and what were raindrops on her face.

“What happened before you went into the OR? What was so terrible that you couldn’t compartmentalize? That you couldn’t leave it on the other side of the door?”

She shook her head and clamped down hard on her bottom lip with her teeth. “I can’t. It’s so stupid now. Looking back, I just feel shame that I let something like that take over my brain. That I let it get in the way of treating Mr. O’Malley properly. Of saving him.”

“Try me,” he said softly, tugging on her fingers a little.

But she just shook her head again and made to pull away. “This was all such a terrible idea. I shouldn’t be in your house.” The cords of her neck stood out as if she were fighting a lump in her throat and even though tears slid down her cheeks, he knew she was keeping her emotions in check as best she could. If she gave into them, she’d probably collapse against him and sob. Maybe she needed that.

Did she ever cry and let all the pain out after her patient died? After whatever happened before that?

Stepping into her space as the rain fell, beading on her lashes and nose, he tipped up her chin. “You’re not going anywhere. And even if you don’t believe you deserve joy, I believe that you do. I believe that you deserve happiness, kindness, joy … and pleasure.”

Her lips parted after that last word.

“I have no idea what is going on between us, but I know that I want to be around you whenever I can. That I need to touch you. To smell that body wash or shampoo, or whatever you use. I haven’t properly slept since Monday, since we …”

She swallowed.

“You might not think you deserve forgiveness, but I do. And if I have to forgive you for yourself until you can do it, then I will. But I’m not going to stop trying to convince you to find joy again and to let go of the guilt.” He cupped her jaw. “I’m going to kiss you.”

She blinked up at him through the rain.

“I’m going to kiss you with tongue.”

More blinking.

“I’m going to kiss you so that we both feel it. So that the guilt in your heart has no choice but to take a backseat to the joy. To the pleasure.” He lifted his brows slightly. “Okay?”

She could barely nod since he held her jaw firmly, but his pinky finger rested against the pulse in her neck and it beat wildly. “O-okay.”

Then he kissed her.

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