Page 91 of Ellie Hayes and the Himbos
It feels like a lifetime ago, or like someone else’s life. But now that I’m here, it’s all too real. This is no place for hope.
“Ellie?” asks a familiar voice. It’s Dr. Selah.
I scan to spot the gynecologist a few paces away, emerging from the left corridor. “Hi, Doctor!” I send her a genuine smile, happy to see her at her full height and not seated between my legs.
“I haven’t seen you in some time,” she says, her eyes moving over me as she approaches. “Are you well?”
I frown, not meaning to, and quickly school my face into something less expressive ofseriously?
But her eyes go soft. “I should know better than to ask that in this building.” She looks at me more closely, and I clock the moment the blood on my shirt registers. “Oh, Ellie, are you—”
“It’s not mine!” I assure her. “One of my roommates fell out of a tree.”
Her forehead creases, and I suppress another frown. My living situation has changedsignificantlysince the last time we saw one another.
“Cole and I broke up. It wasn’t…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence. Or why I’d started it in the first place. Was I about to claim that the reasons why I was going to herhadn’tcontributed to the demise of our relationship? “It’s been an interesting few months.”
“In any case, you look well.” She studies me. “If you don’t mind my saying so, you look”—she makes the double-fisted gesture generally used to convey muscularity—“fit.”
“Yeah! I’m working reception at a gym. Membership is a perk. It’s been nice experiencingelectivediscomfort.” At her wary expression, I explain, “Being sore from back squats is preferable to extreme pain because my body has decided that my uterine lining should be on a kidney this month.”
Her responding laugh seems involuntary. “You’ve always had a colorful perspective.”
“It’s either that or scream.”
“Good point.” She smiles. “It’s nice to see that you’ve found a way to make peace with your body.”
I tip my head, pretending to consider. “More like a temporary suspension of hostilities.”
“I’m glad. Especially given those exchanges I had with Dr. Hartman’s office. I’m so sorry,” she says, placing a hand on my arm. “I meant to follow up with you—”
“It’s fine…now,” I say, and Dr. Selah’s hand returns to her side. “Another item on the list of maladies.”
“Oh, Ellie!” Diego’s voice calls from behind me, and I turn to watch him half jog toward me, one hand still clutching the ice pack to his face. “Ellie, I didn’t know where you’d gone!”
Ian rolls his eyes as he saunters after him. “He wasveryconcerned.”
“Ian, this is Dr. Selah,” I say, taking note of the tastefully appreciative glance the doctor sends Ian. That scrub shirt is fighting for its life. “And Diego—”
“Ellie is my roommate,” Diego explains. “There are three of us! And she’s been teaching us how to cook and be adults. I can make an omelet!”
To her credit, Dr. Selah just keeps smiling. She has a wonderful smile; she hasn’t had much use for it during my visits. “A good omelet is one of life’s pleasures. Pleased to meet you both. Ellie, always a delight.” She cocks her head thoughtfully. “You really do look well.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I feel… great.”
“I’m glad to hear it. And hoping that Idon’thear from Dr. Hartman’s office again.”
I raise a hand, crossing my fingers. “Ditto,” I say in parting.
Diego waves at her broadly, and she waves back with a laugh, then heads for the exit. I watch the double doors part as she approaches, then shut behind her.
I turn to find Ian studying me, a question in his look. “She’s who diagnosed my endometriosis,” I explain.
He nods, brow still pleated. “Sure. Let’s go.”
33
“WELL, I JUST FISHED GRASSout of my bra,” I say, stepping out of my bathroom. “That was a first.” I look at Ian, perched on the corner of my desk. He’s frowning at his phone.
