Page 38 of Reckless
The man clears his throat and offers me a flat smile. “Right, well, yes. Dr. Hamilton here is concerned about head trauma, but I’ve assured her that you are most likely concussed. The helmet is what saved you.”
“I’ll take him for a CT myself, then.”
The other doctor lets out a beleaguered sigh and Rhett fails to stifle a laugh.
I have to confess I’m a little lost as to why Winter cares so much about this. I’m not mad about it though. If she wants to play doctor, I’ll be the patient.
“I think Dr. Hamilton is right,” I pipe up, lasering my eyes in on hers even though I’m addressing the other doctor in the room. “I’d like to go for a CT, just to be safe. I’d hate to pull a McDreamy.” Her lips flatten and she looks away. I’m pretty sure that’s her version of holding back a laugh. “But first, how did surgery go? All fixed up? When can I get back on?”
“Surgery was a success. You’ve got a shiny new set of screws to go with the plate along your right clavicle. You’re going to need to do physio, though. I’m thinking you’ll be back to regularly scheduled activities in about three months. You’re young and fit. We’ll just have to see how those bones heal up. Could be sooner. Though I can’t recommend you getting back on a bull.”
Winter scoffs and rolls her eyes, hip cocked out and foot tapping the polished floor.
“Something to add,Dr. Hamilton?” He uses the right words this time, but the way he says them is almost worse.
“Yes, actually.” Her eyes narrow and she doesn’t back down at all. “His job is riding bulls. Telling him not to get back on one isn’t helpful. We need to come up with a rehabilitation program that caters to him as an athlete.”
“Excellent idea, Dr. Hamilton. I love your youthful exuberance.” He smiles and stashes his pen into the top of the clipboard. “If you’re so passionate about his rehabilitation plan, I invite you to come back from your maternity leave and take it over.”
Maternity leave?
Winter pales, her cheeks losing their angry flush right before my eyes. She bites at her lip and nods, ignoring my gaze in such an unnatural way that it makes me stare at her even harder.
“Maybe I will,” she says coolly. And then she spins on her heel and marches out of the room.
Disappointment roils in my gut, because I’ve been carrying a torch for her since that night. And clearly I covered it well, because Rhett never brought this up. Or her up at all. But I didn’t care. I thought when the dust settled for us both, I’d be back, annoying her into giving me more than one night. Maybe into giving me a shot at more. Like maybe if I got myself together enough, I’d be worthy of that shot.
Clearly that ship has sailed. She wanted this. And I should be happy for her.
But in the wake of everything that’s gone down today, I don’t feel happy at all.
10
Winter
Ashrill yap wakes me from what has to be only a single hour of sleep.
Yap. Yap. Yap.
I wonder if the oath I took to protect lives extends to dogs, because after two days in teething hell, I’m ready to murder someone. A dog is just an easy target.
You’d think that after years of residency and late-night study sessions, I’d be prepared for this phase of my life. But this is the most exhausted I have ever been.
I am a walking, talking milk bag and the sole source of comfort for the most precious little human I’ve ever laid eyes on. You’d think a night away from her would be what I needed, but instead, the rodeo went to shit, and I missed her so badly it hurt.
Yap. Yap. Yap.
I sling an arm over my face and groan, but I cut it off when I remember I gave in and kept Vivienne in the bed with me last night. I know what the baby books say. I know the methods. I know therules.
But no one tells you just how tired you’ll be, how thoroughly beaten down. I no longer care about her being independent. I just want to sleep. And if latched on in the crook of my arm is how that happens—then fuck all that advice. I’m a doctor. Ask me how exhaustion wreaks havoc on a body.
Yap. Yap. Yap.
I turn and peek down at the sleeping little person beside me. She’s so beautiful it makes my chest ache. Her pert button nose looks like she has a dot of highlighter on the tip. Pudgy cheeks, full and rosy even in her sleep. Perfect skin. Why is perfect skin wasted on a baby? It seems unfair. I’d have taken wrinkles as a baby to have this smooth, soft skin now.
It’s her lashes that always get me though. Similar to her dad’s. Thick, and dark, and long. Almost like one of those dolls with the heavy lids that flip open and shut.
Except way less creepy.
