sure that he got it. If she thought that any of the therapists that Melissa was shoving his way could help him, she wouldn’t worry, but since most of them ended up running out of the house crying or calling Chase an asshole, she needed to help him. With that in mind, Sloane returned her attention to the email that she was writing.
She didn’t know this therapist, but from everything that she’d read about him, he was probably Chase’s best hope. The problem was that he wasn’t accepting new patients yet. He was opening a private practice through Shadow House, a nonprofit therapeutic center aimed at helping people get through trauma, which would also be a perfect fit for Chase, but it wouldn’t be opening for another month.
She considered looking into seeing if anyone else could see him sooner, but she would rather have someone who focused on treating trauma patients work with Chase rather than someone who only offered it as part of an extensive list of services. Chase needed someone who was focused on trauma. Sloane wasn’t sure how she was going to convince this man to help, but she was going to try.
She double-checked the link to Chase’s story online, read through her email, and…hesitated as she glanced back down at Chase to find him pushing himself to get better, making her realize that she really didn’t have a choice. Slowly exhaling, she hit “Send.”
“Everything okay, Pookie?” Chase asked as she moved to close her email app only to find herself frowning when she saw an email from her boss with the name Joshua Wilkins in the subject line.
Wondering why her boss was writing to her about Joshua since she hadn’t worked with him in four years, Sloane opened the email and immediately wished that she hadn’t when she finished reading the first line. Slowly exhaling, she forced herself to read the rest of the email. When she was done, she released a shaky breath and climbed out of the wheelchair.
“Pookie?” Chase said, frowning as he watched her.
“I’m fine,” Sloane mumbled absently as her trembling hands dropped the iPad in Chase’s wheelchair and
“I’m fine,” she repeated, because she was fine, more than fine.
This was just part of the job, Sloane reminded herself as she found herself heading to the kitchen door. She needed to make lunch because that was also part of her job and that’s why she was here.
To do her job.
“Pookie?” Chase called after her. “Sloane?”
“I-I’m going to make lunch,” she mumbled hollowly as she made her way to the kitchen sink and…and…
This was just a job.
Sloane knew that the cancer could come back. She’d been prepared for that to happen, had told herself that it might happen, but she just didn’t think that it would happen this soon. She’d told herself that the happy little boy that used to make silly faces while he had chemo was going to be fine.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
The cancer came back and Joshua hadn’t been strong enough to beat it this time. It happened, Sloane reminded herself as she grabbed hold of the edge of the kitchen sink. Sometimes her patients died. It happened. It was sad, but it was part of the job.
This was just a job.
This was just a
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Chase said as he pulled her down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s okay.”
Shaking her head, she choked out a sob. “I-I have to make lunch,” Sloane said, struggling to climb back off his lap, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“No, you don’t,” he said softly as he held her tightly against him, kissing her forehead as she sat there thinking about Joshua, thinking about the way that he used to smile whenever they drove in the ambulance and the EMTs would put on the sirens just to make his day, the late-night movie marathons they used to have when the pain was too much, the way that he used to laugh when they raced wheelchairs down the hallway when they had to wait for an appointment, and
“I can’t keep doing this,” Sloane said, burying her face against Chase’s chest as she wrapped her arms around him while she lost it.
“I know,” Chase said, holding her tightly as she closed her eyes, wondering when it was going to stop hurting this much to lose a patient.
Chapter 16
Maryhale, Florida
“Why did you do that?” Kylie asked, watching helplessly through their office window as the unfortunate individual that the agency sent over for an