Page 41 of Stuck with Doctor Grump

“I told him,” I whispered to no one.

The curtain rustled.

Hazel popped her head in, eyes narrowing as she spotted me. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere—” Her gaze took me in: wild hair, flushed cheeks, trembling fingers. “You look like someone who just ran naked through town hall.”

I barked a laugh, equal parts hysterical and heartbroken. “Feels about right.”

She crossed over, sat beside me, and tilted her head. “You okay?”

I inhaled too fast, then exhaled all at once. “No.”

She waited.

“I told him I loved him.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“And he said…” I shook my head, eyes burning. “Nothing. He just stared at me. Like I’d dropped a live grenade in his lap and asked him to cuddle it.”

Hazel didn’t gasp or pity me. She just reached out and pulled me into a hug, her arms warm and grounding.

“You were brave,” she said softly, her hand stroking my back like I might bolt otherwise. “That’s more than most people ever manage.”

“I feel stupid.”

“Of course you do. You cracked your ribs open and handed him your heart. That’s terrifying.” She leaned back to look at me. “But stupid? Never.”

I stared at the floor. “What if I ruined everything?”

“Ruby.” She waited until I looked up. “You didn’t ruin anything. You told the truth. That’s not a crime. That’s courage.”

A shaky breath left my lips. “But I didn’t plan to—like, at all. It just came out. My mouth went rogue. I was standing in that courtyard and then—bam—confession of eternal feelings like it was some finale of a Hallmark movie.”

Hazel smirked. “With a bit more cursing and better shoes.”

I laughed again, softer this time. “Why does love always feel like either a victory lap or a car crash?”

“Because it’s both.” Her tone gentled. “Sometimes in the same hour.”

I leaned my head against her shoulder. “I thought he’d say something. Anything. Even if it wasn’t what I wanted to hear.”

“Maybe he didn’t know how.”

I blinked. “He’s a heart surgeon, Hazel. He’s literally trained to handle pressure.”

“Not that kind of pressure.” She nudged me. “There’s no textbook for ‘woman you love just admitted she loves you back after weeks of emotionally constipated flirting.’”

Despite myself, I smiled.

“Look, you did the hard thing,” she went on. “You said the words. You put your heart out there with no guarantee he’d catch it. That’s real. That’s messy. That’s… you.”

“I hate messy.”

“No, you don’t,” she said, eyes sparkling. “You just don’t like messes you didn’t decorate.”

I groaned into my hands.

Hazel stood and tugged me up with her. “Now come on. You still have a gala to close out. And cupcakes with your name on them.”

---