those needs become your entire world. It’s wonderful for them and their families. It’s just tough on you and the people who love you.”
My teeth sank into my lower lip. What he’d just said was another of those things that left me wondering . . . did he or didn’t he mean what I thought he might? There were so many nuances and possibilities . . . and so many ways for me to respond.
I chose the safest. “I haven’t had a case that requires that much of my attention in a while. I mean, I know I’m still working hard, and of course, all of my patients are important, but the ones who keep me up all night and make me crazy . . . not so much. Just straightforward and uncomplicated, whether for the good or the bad.”
“How’s Mr. Crew doing?” Knowing that Donnie was a big football fan, I’d asked Noah to come in to meet him during his stem cell transplant. The two men had made a connection, and Noah had even sent him tickets for a home game last fall.
“He’s doing so well. The experimental trial he’s on has been a big success for him so far.” I smiled, thinking of Donnie’s new positive outlook on life. “I wish something like that would come along for George Brewer. He’s got so much to live for—and he’s doing okay—but I’d love to see a big drop in his tumor markers next time he’s in. I have lots of ideas about his treatment, but I have to get them around . . . someone else first.”
“Ah. Deacon.”
I’d shared with Noah a few of the details of my argument with Deacon, but I’d been careful not to divulge anything that had to do with Angela. First of all, knowing that the two of us had been fighting over whether any aspect of her care had been lacking would only unnecessarily upset Noah. Second, I’d realized soon after I’d left Deacon’s office that he hadn’t meant what he said any more than I had intended to go so far in my own accusations. We both knew that Angela’s death had been tragic, but likely unpreventable. We didn’t like to admit it as doctors in the twenty-first century, but there were still some cases that were destined to end in mortality, no matter what anyone did or didn’t do.
Still, Noah understood that what had gone down between Deacon and me was something I couldn’t talk about in detail. I’d wondered if Deacon would tell his grandparents about it, but it had been three weeks since I’d stormed out of his office, and so far, Anna and Jimmy hadn’t treated me any differently than they had before.
“Yeah,” I agreed with Noah’s observation. “I don’t understand how we could go from working together so well before he left to his total disregard for my input now. The way he acted in front of Alison, Noah . . . it was like I was a witch doctor who was suggesting that we use leeches or bleed him or something like that.”
“It doesn’t sound like the Deacon I know.” Noah was hedging, and I understood why. He’d been acquainted with Deacon longer than he’d known me, and he had entrusted his wife’s precious care to Deacon. That said something about his opinion of the man.
“Right?” I pushed myself up and away from Noah to sit straight. “A little over a year ago, Deacon would’ve listened to what I said and given it the same attention and weight as he did any other doctor. I just don’t get it.”
“Well, honey, you were sleeping with him then. You aren’t now.” Noah gave me a smile that was almost apologetic. “When a woman is letting a guy give it to her on the regular, he’s more likely to listen to and value what she has to say. Sorry about that. It’s sad, but it’s true.”
My face was hot, and my mouth dropped open. “How do you know I was sleeping with Deacon?”
“Emma. C’mon. Why would you think I didn’t know that? I knew you were with Deacon for a while. And I told you that Ang swore Deacon was in love with you.”
“But . . . but . . .” I sputtered. “I mean, sure, I knew you were aware that maybe we were dating, but not that we were—you know. Doing that.”
“Having sex, you mean?” He laughed at my wide eyes. “Emma, it would have been