Westin extends his arm as I enter the apartment. His high-rise building has a completely different feel than mine. Mine is an older building, where Westin’s is new and very industrial. The ductwork hangs from the ceiling, the floors are concrete and the counter is stainless steel.
Like Westin’s exposed brick walls, I’m raw and jaded, and the mortar that holds me together is chipping.
His arms wrap around me from behind, and I sigh. Being held right now is what I need. I close my eyes and lean my head back on his shoulder. When we’re alone, I can let my walls down just a little. It’s when we step outside the cocoon that they go back up.
“I like when you’re this way,” Westin’s deep voice is low against my ear.
“What way?”
His lips touch my neck and I shiver. “Unguarded.”
It’s easy when you’re in a bubble to pretend the world outside is a farce. I don’t have to be anything but me when we’re alone. Westin doesn’t care because our expectations are just this. When we’re together, we can give what we want to each other, and when we’re apart, we don’t have to do anything.
“I had a long day. I need us tonight.”
I turn, looking into his beautiful green eyes, and touch his cheek.
“First we eat,” Westin demands. “Then you can have all the us you want.”
Westin kisses my lips before releasing me. He heads into the kitchen that never gets used, except to heat up pizza or some other kind of takeout, and smiles.
“Are you going to keep me in suspense?” he asks.
Oh, God, did he hear about my breakdown in the bathroom? Does it say on my forehead: Hot mess. Ex-fiancé is back in town.
“About?”
He shakes his head and then places the plate in front of me. “Your day . . .”
“Oh.” I shrug. “It was . . . hard.”
That’s the understatement of the year.
Westin grabs his pizza and watches me. I’ve never held back on this stuff with him. We both share our days freely, but I don’t know that I should. If he finds out about Bryce’s wife, I don’t know what he’ll say. Or maybe I do, and that’s why I haven’t said a word.
“Ren, what’s going on?” he pushes.
Fuck. I’m doing a really bad job at keeping my feelings off my face. I need to tell him something.
“I had to remove a patient from the trial,” I explain. Lindsay was a difficult part, so I start there.
Oh, by the way, the guy that has had me a complete mess for the last seventeen years is back, his wife is my patient, and basically told me that she’ll refuse all the normal treatment if the trial doesn’t work. Plus, I’m dying inside.
“For?”
I tell him about her cancer and the scans. The whole point of the trial is to see if this can avoid a hysterectomy. If I have to remove her uterus and ovaries, there’s nothing to test.
He leans against the counter in front of me. His green eyes vary from inquisitive to concerned. “You know you have to report this to the board, right?”
“Yeah,” I reply hesitantly.
“Losing her from the trial adjusts your ratio. I’m saying that you have to keep your information correct. If you lose another patient, they could shut it all down until you have the numbers back.”
My head falls along with my heart. I didn’t even think about that. If I remove Allison from the trial as well, I could be forced to postpone the entire thing. All those other patients would be affected by that. It could mean they lose their chance and I don’t know when I would be able to start it again.
Is everyone else’s life more important than just finding a way to deal with Allison?
Can I really not handle this, or am I being stupid?
I rest my elbow on the island with my head in my hand. “I can’t lose this trial,” I admit.
He rubs my back. “I know, and maybe it won’t be a big deal, but in order to prove the results, you have to have the numbers. You barely qualified for this stage of the trial because of the woman who dropped out.”
God, I didn’t even think about that. The first stage of the trial was a success and showed enough promise to push to the next, but there are minimums for patient numbers and I’m right at that number for phase three. If I lose Allison too, I don’t know what it’ll mean for the whole thing.
I look up at him, hoping he has the answers I need. “What if I lose another patient? One of the patients, Allison, is possibly dropping out. I’m waiting on her scans to determine if she qualifies. So if I lose her, then what?”
Westin runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t know, it would really depend. I’m just giving you a heads-up. I would do whatever I could to keep the rest in the trial.”
This could change everything. It’s bigger than me, Bryce, and Allison. It’s about the families of patients who are hoping this could save a future they envisioned. My former love life shouldn’t destroy their chances.
I’m not really in love with Bryce. He’s married and I have a life now. It’s been years. I’m strong enough to put my emotions aside to help Allison. Not to mention, this trial is life or death for her. I don’t want her to die. I don’t want any of my patients to die, but I really don’t want her to die.
And Bryce was right, I don’t know her. I’m not treating a friend or a family member, she’s the wife of a guy I was once in love with. I don’t know if that’s really an ethical violation, but if anyone finds out, it could be viewed as one. It’s a risk—a big one. I feel a pit in my stomach that’s growing with each second. Letting her out is what I should do, but then I think of the other patients.
They need me to be stronger than some woman who can’t put aside her bullshit.
And Allison needs me. She came to me for treatment and that’s what I’m going to give her. I’ll give her the best medical attention I can and ignore the man who used to look at me with loving eyes.
This trial is everything that matters.
My entire life has led to this one point, and I won’t allow the man who I haven’t been able to get out of my heart derail me.
Westin’s hand brushes against my cheek. “You there?”
“It’s been a long day,” I say while taking his hand in mine.
He nods. “Do you need to forget, Serenity?”
The deep timbre of his voice sends shivers down my spine. Westin may not be the man I loved and have been trying to forget, but he’s the one in front of me. He’s real, he cares, and he’s here.
I do want to forget it all. I want to go back twenty-four hours to when Westin and I were in my apartment, tearing each other’s clothes off to exorcise our demons together. No judgment or expectations, just us.
“No talking, Wes.” I rise and stare into his emerald eyes. “No emotions. Not tonight. I know earlier . . .”
He places his fingers over my mouth. “No talking. No explanations.”
The hunger swirls in his gaze. He knows exactly what I’m asking for and he’s going to give me everything I need.
I walk through the doors of the hospital with purpose. I’ll get through Lindsay’s surgery, and explain to Bryce that he’s to stay away from me if he wants me to treat his wife at all.