Page 75 of The Do-Over
“If you were going out there to perform surgery, I’d say you needed to disclose it,” Thea said. “But it isn’t like that. You’re going to shake some hands and accept some congratulations, and you can do that without clear memories of the past twenty years.”
“I hope so.”
Thea stood and pulled him to his feet beside her. “You can,” she said, holding out her hand. “Go on, try it right now.”
“You’re being silly.”
“What if I am? I really think it’ll make you feel better to see how easy this is going to be. She grabbed his hand again and pumped it up and down. “Congratulations, doctor.”
He laughed. “All right,” he said. “I get it.”
“No, come on, do it right.” She held out her hand to him again.
He nodded and took her hand, gripping it firmly.
Their eyes met.
“Congratulations, doctor,” she said, more quietly this time.
“Thank you,” he said, not sure if he was acting out the role he was supposed to be practicing or if he was actually thanking her for everything she had done for him. It felt like both.
The eye contact between them felt so tenuous. It felt as if she might break it at any moment.
He had to act before she could.
He pulled her in, wrapped his free arm around her waist, and kissed her.
A part of him expected her to resist or pull away—it would fit with the pattern of what had happened between them up until now—but she didn’t. She returned his kiss with equal enthusiasm, and for several minutes, the two of them stood there locked together, held tight in one another’s embrace.
When they broke apart, she was gazing up at him.
Last night wasn’t a fluke, then.
Something really had shifted between the two of them. Things really were going to be different now.
The thought gave him the courage he needed to face the upcoming ceremony. As long as he knew Thea was by his side, he felt he could handle anything.
“Come have breakfast,” she urged. “I made French toast.”
Rob nodded. “French toast sounds great,” he said, turning away from the computer and following Thea into the kitchen.
