Page 40 of The Bitter Rival

“You mean you fucked her and decided to still speak afterward,” he adds sarcastically.

“Whatever. You haven’t even been married a year, Nick. Don’t act like I’m the only guy in this room that was focused on getting his dick wet without taking names.” I shoot him a quick glare before continuing. “I’ve got way too much shit in my head, questioning where my future’s headed. It’s diverting focus from my work. Maybe she can shed some light on it. All I know is something has to change. I can’t keep living like this.”

Glancing at his watch, Nick grimaces. “Damn, I have to go. Hey, let’s grab a drink for your birthday. I know it’s mid-week, but we won’t stay out late. I miss you, man. I want to hear more about what’s going on when we’re not in a rush.”

“Sure. That’d be great.”

Nick heads for the door and swiftly spins before pulling it open. “You’re coming to the house Saturday, right?”

“Yes,” I groan sarcastically. “See ya.” Grabbing my coffee cup, I cover it carefully with a plastic lid before heading back down the long corridor. Don’t need to add second-degree burns to my list of injuries. I’ll give Kendal a call once I return to the office. Perhaps I should also reach out to my personal trainer. He’d mentioned there was a yoga instructor who did private lessons. I found yoga and meditation helpful on a recent trip to Fiji, but once I returned home and joined a class, it was torture. I couldn’t immerse myself in the therapeutic elements of the class with hot, sexy women in skin-tight yoga pants contorting themselves into delicious positions all around me. By the end of the class, it was like ladies’ night at the club the way they all flocked to the only male in the room. Returning to that class definitely wouldn’t help my distractability.

Limping back to my office from the OR, my leg feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. I’m off tomorrow and need to ice and elevate it all day. I’m working and on-call on Friday, so I need to rest in preparation for any emergency cases which might leave me standing all day.When the fuck did I start feeling so damn old?

Continuing down the hallway, I pass the atrium and notice Isabella sitting at a small black, wrought iron table in the courtyard. She’s holding a book and eating a salad. Her gorgeous brown locks are blowing around her beautiful face, and I can’t help but stare.

Realizing I’ve stopped walking and am openly gawking at her, I try to put one foot in front of the other just as Isabella’s eyes connect with mine, and her expression of quiet contemplation turns to scorn. I watch as she lifts her book to cover her reddening face. There’s no confusing that dismissal. My head drops slightly as I hobble back to my office and decide I need to get that appointment with Kendal sooner rather than later. My brain is a torrent of confusion. I don’t know who I am anymore. When my life was centered around work and a new piece of ass every week, I didn’t have to contend with any of this.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

“Hello?” I answer, not looking at my phone screen in my current muddled state.

“Hi, Sebastian. It’s Kendal. I got a message you were trying to reach me.”

“Thanks for calling me back so quickly. I’m not sure if you can help me. I’m happy to speak with your receptionist to make an appointment but wanted to reach out to you first.”

“I’m happy to help if I can. Is something wrong?”

“Well, I’ve noticed over the last few years my focus has been declining. This has become evident in the OR, which is not at all helpful.” I give an uncomfortable laugh. Sharing my struggles with anyone other than Nick isn’t something I’m accustomed to. “I’ve tried introducing meditation, yoga, workouts… I even noticed some improvement with taking rejuvenating trips to peaceful destinations several times a year, but these things have become be less beneficial. I’m sure it’s the stress of the job and the overcrowding in my head.” I again laugh.

“Well, your job is certainly demanding. And the type of work you perform requires a great deal of precision. Why don’t you come by this afternoon? My last appointment is scheduled for three-thirty. I’m happy to see you afterward if that’ll work for you.”

“That’d be great. Thank you. I honestly don’t know if there’s anything you can do to help, but I’d like to find some way to ease the amount of pressure I’m under. I love my job. But I don’t want to risk making a mistake that could affect one of my patients long-term. Or get me sued.”

“No, I understand completely. I’ll see you this afternoon. It was nice to hear from you, Sebastian. Even if it’s under these circumstances,” she adds. Her sultry voice takes me back to our one night together. Kendal is beautiful. She’s a successful, intelligent, and sexy blonde. If I had been interested in pursuing something more than a one-night stand, we could’ve made quite the power couple. While she’s only a few years younger, she’s completely focused on her career as well. Or at least she was at the time of our hot evening together.

We’ve stayed in touch, but it’s been purely professional. I try not to make a habit of sleeping with women I know. Yet, this particular evening had caught me off guard. Kendal had been attending a dinner lecture hosted by a colleague on a medication approved for the treatment of numbness. Neuropathy is an area treated by both orthopedists and neurologists alike. We chatted over dinner, enjoyed a glass of wine at the bar following the lecture, and after giving in to the flirty, hungry looks she’d been sending me all night, I accepted her invitation for a nightcap at her home. The only thing we drank once we got there was each other.

Kendal is sweet and engaging. She can easily keep my attention during conversations. She’s fuck hot and knows how to please in the bedroom. Yet, there was never any pull toward taking it further for me. Not saying I wouldn’t have minded a repeat performance of that night. However, my work was and is my priority.

Kendal reached out a few times over the following months. She never pushed for more or acted offended I didn’t offer. Maybe I should’ve considered a relationship with her. A bond with a like-minded professional who could please me in the bedroom but not distract me from my priorities could be just the right fit. Sadly, I doubt I can even handle that kind of relationship. Not to mention, how likely is it I’d find a woman who isthatlike-minded? Would they eventually want more? Would the relationship precipitously bring nothing but arguing and disappointment when they realized they were never going to be the priority?

“Dr. Lee? Your three o’clock appointment is here,” Rebecca says from the doorway.

What the hell?“I thought my last patient of the day was at 2:00?”

“Originally, it was. I know you don’t like to have them run too late when you have multiple OR cases during the day. But you told me to add this one on.”

I give her a perplexed expression, knowing she’s probably right, given how distracted I’ve been lately.

“It’s Mr. Hansen. A postoperative follow-up of a tendon repair you performed,” she replies with trepidation.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry, Rebecca. I completely forgot. I missed his initial post-op appointment because I was away. We added him on at the last minute. Thank you.”

Unsure why my mood has suddenly brightened, I carefully stand from my chair. I don’t know what it is about this old guy that gives me such peace. And direction. I don’t take kindly to unsolicited advice from anyone. Yet, from our first meeting, I’ve been drawn to him. His openness. His words are genuine and without judgment.

Walking into exam room two, I smile as I meet the shining steel gray eyes of my new favorite patient. “Mr. Hansen.” I extend my hand. “It’s good to see you.” I become aware of an abrupt change in his facial expression.

“What did you do to yourself, son?”

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