Christopher squeezes my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. I drag my gaze away from Dr. Bachmann and meet Christopher’s concerned gaze. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Good morning, Grace,” Dr. Bachmann greets with a smile. “How are you feeling today?”
“Better,” I say, my hand curling around the bed sheet.
“Good.” He steps closer, and my body locks up. He’s not Gavin, but I can’t help the way my body reacts to his closeness. “I’d like to do a final check just to make sure you’re good to go, okay?”
Forcing myself to relax, I nod. Dr. Bachmann pulls out a pen from the front pocket of his white coat and scribbles something on my chart.
Christopher leans in to kiss my hair. “I’ll be outside, okay?”
“Stay,” I whisper, grasping his wrist. I need him to be my anchor, something I can latch on to and not feel like I’m drowning. Someone familiar. “Please don’t go.”
His eyes widen in surprise. His gaze cuts to Dr. Bachmann in question, who in turn nods his consent.
“Okay, kiddo,” Christopher murmurs, giving me the reassuring fatherly smile I’ve come to love. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
After Dr. Bachmann finishes checking me over, he jots his findings on the chart, then looks at me and says, “Everything looks good, Grace. If you experience any headaches, take Advil. But if they get worse, come back to the hospital immediately. For now, you are cleared to go home.” He pauses, watching me closely. “The nurse informed me you had a nightmare? You just underwent a traumatic experience. In cases like this, I recommend you visit a psychologist. I can refer you to someone if you wish.”
I can feel Christopher’s eyes on me, but I refuse to meet his gaze. “I’d like that.”
The doctor nods and tucks the pen into the pocket of his white coat just as the door opens. The last person in the world I ever expect to see appears at the threshold.
Gavin walks in, adjusting the hem of his sky-blue scrubs. “Sorry I’m late, Dad,” he says as he strides in our direction.
Dr. Bachmann waves him over. “You’re right on time, son.” He steps aside, and Gavin halts beside the bed, his eyes darting up to me, then to Christopher. He does a double take, and our gazes lock. “This is my son, Gavin. He’s in the pre-med program at Johns Hopkins. He’s shadowing me here at Mercy Medical while on winter break. Son, this is—”
Dr. Bachmann’s words fade as I stare at the boy who broke my heart years ago. My hands clench around the sheets as the anger I’ve buried for him rises to the surface. When I look up, Gavin’s watching me with wide eyes.
He blinks, then schools his expression before facing Christopher with his hand extended.
“Nice to meet you.” After they shake hands, he brings his hand in my direction. I just gape at it until Gavin pulls it back and shoves it inside the pocket of his scrubs. Then he clears his throat, and says, “Um, hey, Grace.”
Dr. Bachmann and Christopher exchange a glance, then look at us.
“You two know each other?” Dr. Bachmann asks, adjusting the glasses atop his nose.
Gavin clears his throat, then says, “We dated back in high school.”
Dr. Bachmann starts to smile, but his features draw together, a frown creasing his forehead. His eyes narrow at Gavin. “Grace. Grace Miller?”
My jaw is clenched tight, and my heart thuds inside my chest. From the way he says my name, I can’t tell if he’s upset or trying to put the pieces together.
Did Gavin tell him what happened? The comments about my mom and me? The apple not falling far from the tree?
Gavin rubs the back of his neck, his ears turning red, and mutters, “Yes.”
My cheeks are on fire with embarrassment. I open my mouth to excuse myself, tell them I’m going to the bathroom, but then Gavin’s father says, “I want to apologize for my son’s behavior concerning what happened between you two.” I look at Gavin. His face has gone red, and his eyes are focused on the space above my shoulder. “When he came home with a black eye and busted lip, I wanted to press charges against the boy who did that to him. But my son didn’t want me to. Eventually, he told me what happened between you two, which resulted in your friend hitting him.”
His apology throws me, and my brain goes blank for several seconds. Finally, I say, “Thank you, Dr. Bachmann.”
He nods, then gives his son a curt nod. “Come on, Gavin. We have rounds to make.” Then father and son leave the room.
“What was that all about?” Christopher asks, his gaze darting from the door to me. “Hey, are you okay? You look shaken.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Is it that kid? Gavin?”
I bite my lip. Should I tell him? I mean, it happened years ago. It shouldn’t matter, right?
“Gavin and I dated back in high school. Things didn’t end well.”
He nods, lips pursed. “Do you need me to kick his ass?”
Caught off guard by his question, I snort-laugh, and he grins. “He’s not worth it.”
We fall silent for a few moments, then he asks, “So what happened between you two? He seems like a stand-up guy, so whatever it was must have been really bad.”
I can’t bring myself to tell Christopher what Gavin said about my mother. I’m not even sure Mom has shared with him her past and what she had to do for money.
Instead, I ask, “You really love my mom?”
He blinks several times, obviously thrown by the sudden change of topic, but then his mouth quirks in a smile. “I do.”
I glance down at my hands in my lap. I need to know how much of my mom’s past he knows. I don’t want to slip up one day and say something I shouldn’t.
Christopher pulls the chair near the bed back and sits down. “What’s going on, Grace?”
I look up and meet his worried gaze. “Oh, nothing, really. I just wanted to make sure.”
His brows shoot up. “I’ve known you for over a year now. I know you never ask a question unless something’s really bothering you.”
I squirm under his gaze and finally exhale. “She’s my mom and my best friend. She’s gone through so much. If it weren’t for her, what she had to do, I wouldn’t be here.”
His brows lower, and his expression grow fierce. “I know, Grace. I know everything about your mother. Everything.”
“Everything? You mean all the—”
“Everything.” He’s watching me as the words sink in. Then he asks, “Is that why you asked me if I love her?”
I nod.
“Your mother is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. And also evasive as hell. When I first saw her at the diner, I was intrigued. I can’t really explain it, but I knew I had to know her. It took a while for her to warm up to me and let me in.” He smiles. “The more I broke down her walls, the deeper I fell.”
“When did you know you were in love with her?”
His smile widens. “As soon as she sat down across from me on our first date. She looked me straight in the eye and told me she doesn’t have time for dating. That she had a daughter who is her top priority and a diner that is her baby. That’s when I knew. She was there, despite telling me she doesn’t date. She was there, sitting across from me. Meeting me.”