The Doctor Who Has No Ambition (Soulless Book 9) - Victoria Quinn Page 0,38
of all people would say any of this.”
“It’s different.”
“How?” she challenged.
“Because you’re the most amazing woman I know.”
Her hostility immediately faded away.
“I want you to have someone who’s going to bend over backward to make you happy every single day of your life. I want you to have someone who takes care of you. I want you to have a bunch of babies.”
Her eyes softened. “So, you still believe in marriage?”
“I never said that.”
“It sounds like you’re pushing it on me…”
“I think marriage works for some people, like Mom and Dad, Derek and Emerson. But I don’t think it works for me.”
“Or maybe it didn’t work because Catherine was a cunt.” She brought her beer to her lips and took a drink. “Did you ever think of that? On behalf of all women everywhere, we aren’t all cunts. She was just a bad batch.”
“Yeah…maybe.”
“But maybe it’ll go somewhere with this guy. He’s hot, smart, funny… Who knows?”
“So, you’re looking for something serious?”
“I mean, if it happens, it happens. But no, I’m not actively looking for it. I’m assuming it’ll be actively looking for me if it’s meant to be. For now, I’m just enjoying my time as a bachelorette. If I ever get married, I’ve always wanted a relationship like Mom and Dad have, and she told me as soon as she got to know him, she wanted to marry him. There was never any doubt about her feelings. She said she wasn’t baby crazy, but with him, she got baby crazy. And I guess her first way of telling him she loved him was saying she wanted to have his babies.” She chuckled then pulled the beer closer to him.
It made me think of Catherine, the last time our lives were good. We were trying to get pregnant, and we were doing it all over the place, taking ovulation tests so we could bang it out and make a kid. And then, it was over…as if that never happened.
Daisy must have noticed the way my expression changed because she moved on to a new topic. “So, Lizzie is going to Harvard, huh? She’s gonna party so hard…”
When I got home, I plopped down on the couch and put my feet on the coffee table to watch TV before bed. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I was used to the phone going off all the time that I could discern a text message from an email just by the vibration. I could tell it was an email, but never wanting to miss anything important even if I was about to go to bed, I checked it.
Subject: Please Read
From: Angelica Torres
Dr. Hamilton,
I know you aren’t practicing anymore, but my husband needs a cardiopulmonary bypass, and due to the other complications of his heart and valves, no other surgeon in the country will take on my husband as a patient. We’ve seen so many doctors and they’re calling it inoperable, but if he doesn’t get this procedure, he’ll die anyway. Please, please, please, could you consider seeing my husband? So many heart doctors have told me that you’re the only one who has the ability to do this, that you’re the best. Please consider it. Please.
-Angelica Torres
I read the email a second time before I released a loud sigh and closed my eyes, irritated that this woman had somehow hunted down my personal email to ask me for something I couldn’t give her. Just when I’d decided not to email her back at all, the guilt hit me so hard that I felt sick to my stomach. I could just ignore her and she would probably assume it was the wrong email, but I couldn’t let someone hold on to hope when there was none. So, I wrote back.
Mrs. Torres,
I’m very sorry to hear about your husband’s condition, but I’m no longer in practice. I’ve attached a list of recommendations that could be a good fit for your needs.
Take care,
-Dex
12
Sicily
I was at home when my phone rang from a number I didn’t recognize.
I would normally ignore it and consider it to be spam, but in my new line of work, I couldn’t afford to dodge calls anymore. I answered, even though it was in the evening and I was tired after the long day. “This is Sicily.”
There was a long pause of silence, but I could hear audible breathing over the line, so someone was there.
“Hello?” Maybe it was a butt dial.
A woman’s broken voice came through. “Who…who are you?”