Page 36 of Holidate Scramble
"She also said you're considering reconciliation."
"What?" His expression shifted from concern to disbelief. "That's absurd. When did she tell you this?"
"In the bathroom. She said you discussed it this morning." I hugged myself against the cold, both physical and emotional. "And it makes sense, Rhett. Boston is your world. Your career, your family—"
"Piper, stop." He reached for me, but I drew back.
"It's okay," I said, pulling my lips into a semblance of a smile. "This was always temporary, wasn't it? A holiday arrangement. We just... got carried away."
His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching along its edge. "Is that what you think? That these past days have been me getting 'carried away'?"
"I think you're at a crossroads," I said carefully. "And I think Boston makes the most sense for you. The position you've worked toward your entire career, possibly fixing your family—it's everything you should want."
"Should want," he repeated, his voice dropping. "Not what I do want."
"Rhett—"
"No, you need to listen now." His gaze locked with mine, unwavering and intense. "Yes, I've been offered the Boston position. No, I have not considered reconciling with Adrienne—not for a second. In fact, she came to my house after the cookie competition and made the same pitch. I rejected it then, and nothing has changed."
Hope flickered within me, but I tamped it down. "Your career, though—"
"My career has been the center of my life for too long." He inched closer. "These past weeks in Starlight Bay, with my mother, with this community... with you... I've remembered what it feels like to be part of something real. To be me, not just a physician."
"But—"
"Piper, I was going to tell you tonight, after the gala. I've decided to accept a full-time position at Cape Cod Regional."
I stared at him, processing his words. "You're... staying?"
"I'm staying." His hand brushed my cheek, his thumb grazing the corner of my mouth. "And not because of my mother, though she's part of it. I'm staying because for the first time in years, I feel alive here. I feel like myself—not the version of me I constructed to fit Boston Memorial's expectations or Adrienne's social ambitions, but the man I actually want to be."
"And what about us?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
The doors to the terrace opened, spilling light and music and the murmur of conversations into our private moment. Dr. Merrick, the hospital administrator, poked his head out.
"Ah, Dr. Thornton! Perfect timing. We're about to make the announcement about the new cardiac wing. Would you join us inside?"
Rhett's attention remained fixed on me. "Actually, Dr. Merrick, there's an announcement I'd like to make as well, if you don't mind."
"Of course! The more good news, the better." He held the door, waiting expectantly.
Rhett offered me his hand. "Coming?"
Confused but curious, I placed my fingers in his and followed him inside. The ballroom had grown crowded, with nearly all the gala attendees gathered near the small stage where the string quartet had played earlier. Dr. Merrick ascended the steps, tapping a microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention for a few announcements? First, I'm delighted to report that tonight's gala has raised over fifty thousand dollars for the new pediatric wing!"
Applause filled the room. Dr. Merrick continued with updates about the hospital's achievements and plans for thecoming year. I stood beside Rhett, hyper-aware of his hand still holding mine, of Adrienne watching us from across the room with narrowed eyes.
"And now," Dr. Merrick concluded, "I'd like to invite Dr. Rhett Thornton to share some news of his own."
My stomach twisted as Rhett squeezed my hand once, then released it to join Dr. Merrick on the stage. He stood before the crowd with easy confidence, scanning the sea of faces until he found me.
"Thank you, Dr. Merrick. Many of you know me as a visiting surgeon from Boston Memorial, helping out during my sabbatical. What you may not know is that I've been considering where I want to build the next chapter of my career—and my life."
The room quieted, crystal glasses stilling mid-clink as conversations halted.
"Boston Memorial has made a generous offer for me to return as chief of cardiothoracic surgery. It's the position I've worked toward for twenty years." He paused, his expression softening as he looked at me. "But sometimes life presents us with unexpected gifts—new perspectives, new possibilities... that make us reevaluate what truly matters."
