Page 9 of Hail Marry
He salutes dubiously, then opens the door. He stops and looks back at me. “Don’t leave.”
“Okay, Mr. Bossy Pants.”
He smiles slightly, like he doesn’t mind the nickname, and then he’s gone.
I grab my phone and open a text to Siena, but after staring at the thread for a minute, I turn off my screen again. No need to worry my family. I’m not thrilled at the prospect of admitting I’m in the hospital because I couldn’t even cross a street. I’m already the one who makes poor life choices.
If the MRI comes back with anything, of course I’ll let them know.
I work on my cup of ice chips like it’s my full-time job, trying to fill the burrito-shaped hole in my stomach with frozen water pebbles. About ten minutes after Luca leaves, the door opens again.
Chart in hand, a man in a white coat enters and looks up at me. He grins widely, and I go completely still.
“Iwonderedif it was you when I saw the name on the chart,” he says. “Long time no see!”
It takes me a second to form a response. I haven’t seen Tyler Warren for over a year. He was finishing his residency then, so I guess it makes sense he’s a doctor now. “Hey, Tyler. Er, Doctor Warren, I guess.” I smile at him, but inside, my heart is racing.
My eyes dart toward the door, like any second, my ex, Ryan, is going to pop up. Ryan was pre-med until he decided on law school, so he and Tyler were close friends.
“Finally, right?” Tyler takes a seat on the spinning stool. “How’ve you been? You know,” he says, not letting me answer, “it’s crazy seeing you today. Ijusthad lunch with Ryan like two days ago.”
“Oh yeah?” It’s not easy striking the balance between polite curiosity and gimme-all-the-details-because-I’m-not-over-him. To be clear, I’m neither of those things. I fall firmly in the I-never-want-to-talk-about-him-again camp. As far as I’m concerned, Ryan is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
“With his fiancée too,” Tyler says. “You remember Kimberly?”
“Yep!” My voice is exuberant because there’s nothing I delight in quite so much as thinking about the woman Ryan broke up with me for. Finding out they’re engaged is the icing on the cake. I hate cake. And icing. “That’s just…sogreat they’re getting married!” I couldn’t show more thrill if I’d won the lottery.
“They’re so great together, right?” Tyler shakes his head, still grinning like he just can’t get over what a match they are. He aced medical school, but the man has never been able to read a room. He’s really likable and talkative, but he lacks a filter.
He flips a couple pages on my chart, looking over the information absently. “I just put in a request for time off for the wedding. I’ve never been to the Big Apple.”
“The wedding’s in New York?”
“Ry got recruited by a big firm there, and Kimberly grew up in Manhattan. He’s always been a huge Knicks and Giants fan, so it’s kind of perfect.”
I squeeze my fists together and shake them around. “Yay!” Ryan is a sports fanatic. He couldn’t care less about Hollywood celebrities. For him, it’s all about “people with real talent.”
Tyler sets the chart on his lap and looks at me. “What about you? What are you up to these days? Still working that secretary gig?”
Administrative assistant. Not secretary.
I have zero doubt Tyler will report back to Ryan on my response. I can just hear it.
Yeah! She came into the ER because she walked into oncoming traffic and got a head injury. Yep—still a secretary. Nope—not dating anyone.
Kind of ironic I’m worried about Tyler reporting that to Ryan when Ryan’s a big part of why I’m still at my job. He was always encouraging me to stick with something and come up with a five-year-plan so I could actually “go places” instead of “wandering aimlessly.”
Well, I’ve been at my job a couple years now, which is longer than any job before that, and guess what? I’ve never felt more aimless than now. And sticking with it didn’t get me the promotion Ryan assured me I’d get if I just put my head down and worked.
In short, since he broke up with me for the beautiful and driven Kimberly, I’ve made zero life progress. But I’ll shove this cup of ice up my nose before I let Tyler or Ryan know that.
“Oh”—I laugh and wave a dismissive hand—“no, I left that job a while ago.” I tip my head to the side and narrow my eyes like I’m thinking hard. “About the time I got engaged, actually.” My on-the-spot boyfriend has officially escalated to fiancé.
Tyler’s gaze sweeps to my hand.
I cover it quickly. “My ring’s at the jewelers.” I pause. “It needed resizing after the weight I lost.” I’m going full throttle on this my-life-has-never-been-better ruse. Thank heaven for this hospital gown, since it keeps Tyler from verifying the truth of my weight loss claims, which are absolute garbage. I love to eat. So sue me.
“That’s great, Tori,” he says, and I truly think he means it. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
