Page 65 of Informed Consent
“Go home and sleep on it. Call me after a nap. Things will seem better once you’re rested.”
It was pointless to argue with her, so I only turned to go. “I’ll be in touch as much as I can be. Be well, Mira. Keep everything running here, as I know you will. Between you and Emma . . . you can manage this place blindfolded.” I winked at her and left the office, feeling somehow lighter.
I walked to Emma’s office. It was dark, but her sweater was tossed over the arm of her desk chair as though she’d be back in a moment to slip it on. I picked it up and buried my face in the collar, breathing in her scent. And then I carefully laid it back over the chair.
Reaching into my pocket, I slid out the envelope with Emma’s name printed carefully across the front. I’d written the letter last night, when she’d dozed off for an hour. Now I held it for a moment, knowing that when I left this for her, there was no turning back.
I was going to miss this woman with every beat of my heart. If there was a way I could stay in town and know I could be the man she needed, I’d be at her trailer in five minutes, pounding on her door, begging her to let me in. But I was suffocating now, so angry at myself and lost that I wouldn’t be any use to her—or to anyone else here.
I knew I was going to hurt her. I knew she’d be furious. But I also knew that this was the only way forward.
Taking a deep breath, I propped the envelope on her keyboard and left the office.
Outside the hospital doors, the heat of the day was just beginning to build as the sun rose in the sky. I walked to my truck and then paused, turning to look behind me.
St. Agnes Memorial gleamed in the sunlight. I thought again of how long and hard I’d worked to come back here and establish the oncology wing. I considered everyone who had joined me in that dream—all the nurses, Jenny, Darcy, Mira, Maybelle . . . Emma. And I remembered the patients we’d served and saved as well as those we hadn’t.
Maybe Mira was right, and I’d rethink this idea . . . eventually. But today, I turned away from the hospital. And I didn’t look back.
The End . . .
