scoping out the room. He’s new.” He paused. “I think you’re well on your way to a fellowship in Mohs, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
Just beneath the hum of excitement that went through her at the other man’s words lurked a trill of annoyance. This should have been a moment of triumph for her. She was so close to finishing up her residency. And now a dark specter of the past had to sweep in and ruin it.
Forget it. You did the surgery. Without any assistance or input, for the very first time. That should be all she was thinking about right now.
But it wasn’t. And as Brian headed out the door she bit her lip.
She wasn’t thrilled about her attending going up to chitchat with her ex, but it wasn’t as if she could say anything in a roomful of other medical staff. So she just gritted her teeth and hoped she’d be able to get through the final part of the surgery.
And she should be proud. Clay had seen she could do this on her own. Just as she’d promised herself. She refrained from glancing up and making sure he actually had seen her finish. But just barely.
She asked for the suture material, and the surgical nurse handed her the pre-threaded needle. Closing the deeper layers first, she worked her way back up to the surface tissue, stopping from time to time to make sure her patient was doing okay. Fifteen minutes later she was done. Brian hadn’t come back, and she couldn’t bring herself to sneak a peek at the observation room. Instead, she settled for putting the final piece of tape on the gauze and talking to her patient, giving her care instructions and telling her to come back and see Dr. Perry in a week to have her stitches removed. Then she squeezed her shoulder and said her goodbyes.
Pulling off her surgical loupes and then stripping off her gown and gloves, she dropped everything into the appropriate bins. As if pulled on a string, her head went up, eyes seeking the space above her. It was empty. Clay wasn’t there, and neither was Brian. Disappointment sloshed through her, followed by relief. The relief was what she chose to focus on. Maybe Clay really did need to see her attending for something. Which meant he hadn’t been there because of her. None of that mattered. What mattered was that she could relax.
She pushed through the door to leave the operating room and pulled the clip from her hair so she could redo it. Except the person who’d been in the suite above her was now just outside the door. Quickly finger-combing her hair and cramming the mass back into the clip, she tried to look nonchalant, although her heart was thumping out a nonsensical rhythm in her chest.
“Where’s Brian?”
Stupid question. But it was the only thing she could think of to say at the moment.
“He said he had another patient and left me here to wait for you.”
Why would he be waiting for her instead of her attending?
“Any specific reason?”
He turned to face her, propping his shoulder against the wall. His face bore no trace of the sardonic amusement she’d come to expect from him. Instead, it was deadly serious. “I talked to my mom last night.”
At that, Tessa tensed. She and Clay’s parents had maintained a cordial relationship over the years—and despite how uncomfortable it made her feel that they’d shelled out so much money for her education, she was grateful to them. Even after she and Clay had broken up, she’d still had some contact with them. That was until her mom died. She’d barely been able to hold herself together during that time, much less carry on a coherent conversation with anyone outside work. “Oh?”
His eyes searched her face. “I didn’t know your mother passed away, Tessa.”
Oh, no. Don’t do this. Not right now. Not here. Especially since the anniversary of her death had just barely passed.
A sudden rush of moisture coated her lower lids, forcing her to blink several times to hold the flow at bay. “Yes, she did.” Licking her lips, she tried to get away. “I have a couple more patients to see, so if you’ll excuse me…”
Before she could move past him, though, he reached out and encircled her wrist, his fingers warm and solid against her icy skin. “I’m sorry, Tess. I had no idea. Is that why you changed your specialty?” He nodded toward the double doors of the operating room.
She decided to cut past all the chatter. “Is it why I went into dermatologic surgery? Yes. I suppose your mom also told you what she died of.”
“She did.” He let go of her hand and cupped her cheek, stroking his thumb beneath her left eyelid. The compassion in his gaze was so different from the blasé attitude he’d shown in front of his poster in the lobby. Then he’d been all cocky with his confident swagger and veiled references to their past.
Tessa felt a telling hint of moisture beneath his fingertip and gave an inward curse. She hadn’t quite banished the tears after all.
Taking a step back, she attempted to break free of his touch. “I decided that the best way to serve her memory was to try to help others like her.” She stiffened her spine just a bit. “Is that why you were watching me? Because of your mom?”
“You noticed me.” One brow went up.
The swagger was back.
Her lips curved despite herself. There was something about this man that did a number on her even after all these years. Did he really think she would miss seeing him there? “It was kind of hard to avoid seeing you, since you were almost directly in front of me.”
Well, not quite. He’d been off to the side, but she’d gotten used to scanning that observation room, which was used quite a bit by both senior doctors and residents in different stages of their work. So, yeah. She’d spotted him almost right away.
“It seemed the best place to find you. You float around this hospital like a ghost.”
A ghost? That was one way of putting it. A ghost on a mission was more like it. She’d caught sight of Clay twice on her floor yesterday and had ducked into a patient’s room to avoid being seen by him.
Really mature, Tessa.
“Hospitals keep their residents pretty busy. I’m sure you know that from experience.” The doors opened and her patient was wheeled out by one of the male nurses. That old wheeling-patients-out-of-the-hospital-instead-of-letting-them-walk-out-on-their-own-two-feet rule was still alive and well. This was the perfect opportunity to escape. “I need to go.”
“I’ll walk with you. Wouldn’t want you disappearing on me again.”
What?
“Was there something else you wanted to discuss?” Other than her personal life, that was. She didn’t say it, though, since she wasn’t anxious for anyone to know that she and Clay knew each other in any way other than as a pair of colleagues… casual acquaintances. She let the wheelchair move a few more yards ahead before turning to follow it.
Clay fell into step beside her. “Yes. Actually, there is.”
Clay wasn’t sure why he’d gone to the observation room. Maybe out of a sense of nostalgia or morbid curiosity. Or it could be that after his mother told him about Gloria’s death from melanoma, something inside him had needed to tell her he was sorry. Despite all of
