Page 31 of Reformation

I know my words don’t mean much, but it’s all I can think to say right now. And honestly, I don’t know what I could do. It just felt like the right thing to say.

Garrett’s eyes go soft as he turns to face me. “You have no idea how much you’ve done for me already, Paige.”

I blush at his words, though I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Me? I haven’t done—”

“Yes, you have,” his words cut me off. “From that first conversation we had in my hospital room, you flipped a switch in me. You’ve made me realize that the life I was leading isn’t the one that was going to make me truly happy. You’ve helped me find purpose again. You have been the friend I didn’t know I needed, and you have helped me so much, Paige. I can never thank you enough for that.”

If my cheeks were pink before, I’m sure they are downright red now. Though I did realize how much emphasis he put on the word “friend.” That is good. He needs a friend, and I can be that for him. The man nearly died, is eventually going to divorce his wife, and instead of crawling into a hole, or pouring himself into work or a bottle, he is trying to refocus his life on doing better for himself and others. That is amazing.

“I don’t know what to say,” I finally say, not knowing how long I left the conversation silent.

“How about, ‘You’re welcome, Garrett. Thanks for bringing me coffee this morning. You’re the best volunteering buddy ever.’”

Yup. Buddy. That’s what I am. That’s what he is.

And that’s how I want it.

Maybe if I keep telling myself that, then I’ll start to believe it.

Chapter Seventeen

Garrett

I spent my entire morning picking up trash. My back is sore, there is dirt under my nails, and I reek something fierce.

Interestingly enough, I’ve never felt better in my life.

Paige was right. Though I was volunteering and helping with the food drive, I didn’t get that satisfaction of getting my hands dirty. You can’t get your hands dirtier than picking up trash and debris off the streets. Even in suburban Virginia Beach.

After we were done, I took Paige to the breakfast place we visited after the 5K. I like that it’s becoming our thing. Well, at least I hope it is. I hope that today wasn’t the last volunteer Saturday with Paige Blackstone.

We ordered what is now our usual—though Paige didn’t order extra for any patients this time—and we ate and talked for hours. The breakfast crowd turned to lunch, but we didn’t notice. We were too involved in our conversation to realize it.

I’ve never felt more comfortable talking to a person in my life, even if our conversation went back and forth between the heavy and the light. She told me that despite growing up in Alabama, she didn’t know a thing about football. I admitted that I took golf lessons during medical school, realizing that it was the best way to kiss up to attendings and donors.

That admission led me down the path of telling her about med school, and how I missed out on the project because I didn’t have the right last name. Next thing I know, I’m spilling my life story to this woman. And I let it flow. Medical school, marrying Michelle, cheating on Michelle, restarting my life and opening up my new practice in Virginia, meeting Annika and going down the same path again, well, except the cheating.

When I stopped for air, and I realized everything I just laid in her lap, I closed my eyes and hung my head in shame. I never said all of it, out loud, consecutively, to another person in my life. Not to Mark. Not to my mom. No one.

I only looked up when I felt her hand lightly squeezing mine, and even then, I was slow to open my eyes. This woman is the best person I have ever met. There is not one thing about her that is not inherently good. And the shit that I just piled on her shouldn’t be within a one-hundred-mile radius of her untarnished soul.

When I finally met her eyes, I thought I’d see disgust in them. Pity. Something that would mirror all the bad shit I have done in my forty-two years on this Earth. Which is a lot.

Instead, I was met with a smile. She told me how proud she was of me. How, yes, I made mistakes, but I’m trying to make them better. I’m trying to do something with my life that I can be proud of. A reformation she called it. And for that, she said what I was doing now was admirable.

I smile at the thought as I walk into my house. Just the thought of Paige’s praise and warm smile is probably how I didn’t realize that my soon-to-be ex-wife was finally home.

“Where in the fuck have you been?”

I look up to find Annika scowling at me from her seat in our front room.

“I could say the same about you.”

She huffs at my response, and I can feel her glare as I take off my shoes.

“I needed some space to clear my head after you suddenly asked me for… I can’t even say it out loud. I’m hoping the space I gave us allowed you to come to your senses.”

I blink a few times, making sure that I heard her correctly.

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