Page 33 of Unforgettable
“That’s not how discharge works.”
“It sounds nicer my way.”
He stepped closer, a file in one hand.
“You’re stable. Your circulation looks good. The wound is clean, and you’ve done well enough with movement that I’m comfortable transitioning you out.”
“Comfortable,” she repeated softly. “One of us should be.”
He heard the unease beneath it. Of course he did.
“You won’t be on your own,” he said. “Outpatient therapy has already been arranged. Three sessions a week to start, with homeexercises in between. They’ll increase the intensity gradually.”
Randi looked down at her hand again.
“Gradually sounds painful.”
“It probably will be.”
That earned him a glance.
“You always this encouraging, Doctor Clay?”
“I prefer honest.”
She let out a small breath that almost resembled a laugh.
“I noticed.”
He set the chart down and moved to the chair near the bed, then stopped as if catching himself. Some invisible boundary rose between them again, subtle but unmistakable. He remained standing.
“I need to remove the remaining sutures before you go,” he said.
There it was again. The careful distance. The deliberate return to professionalism.
Randi nodded and shifted slightly, settling her arm where he needed it.
“Do what you have to do, Doctor.”
Something flickered in his expression at the title, but he said nothing. He pulled on gloves with practiced precision and gently took her hand.
Even now, even after all the procedures and dressing changes and examinations, the contact felt different. More intimate. More aware. She hated that she noticed it.
Or maybe she hated that she didn’t.
He worked carefully, his focus fixed on the task, but she could feel the restraint in him. The way he kept his touch clinical when everythingbetween them seemed to be pressing in the opposite direction.
“You’ll have some scarring,” he said quietly as he worked. “More than some, actually. There’s no point pretending otherwise.”
She swallowed.
“I figured.”
“But scars don’t tell you what a hand can still become. Therapy will.”
His voice was low and steady, and it settled something inside her that had been trembling all morning.
She watched his face as he worked. Strong, composed, unreadable to anyone who didn’t know better. It was a handsome face though. The kind of face that make women melt and shutter. Like it made her feel.
