the wind right out of her. But the feelings she had for him meant she didn’t want him to be hurting, either.
And she could tell he was.
“Sure,” she said, trying to draw on all that practiced charm she hoped she’d absorbed from watching him all this time. “We can talk when I get back.”
His hand squeezed against hers, a reflex more than an assent, or an encouragement. When he spoke, he sounded reluctant. “I can come up after—”
She shook her head, too desperate to leave, tears threatening. “Everyone’s around. Let’s wait.”
There was a long pause before he finally said, “Okay.”
She ignored the disappointment she felt. He was only doing what she’d suggested, after all. She thought about turning around, thought about giving him a kiss goodbye, some more settled encouragement about this not being over.
But she didn’t know if she could, not if he only wanted what they’d been doing so far.
So instead she squeezed his fingers back, not sure herself what she was trying to tell him with the gesture. She swallowed a lump of sadness and said, “I’ll see you.”
And when she walked away, he didn’t try to hold on.
Chapter 16
Well, this was a first.
Will walked with Dr. Abraham down the corridor from the workroom toward the exit, his bag over his shoulder and his helmet held at his side. Beside him, Abraham was talking—something about an orthopedic surgeon who couldn’t seem to distinguish between the urgency of a broken finger and a possible brain bleed. The case had happened hours ago—an early morning vehicle crash—but Abraham had been seething about it for the entire shift, coming back to it during any break in the action.
“He was trying to splint the finger,” said Abraham, shaking his head. “I’d say it’s against protocol, but I think you would agree, Dr. Sterling, that this is an understatement. In fact it is against common sense.”
“Yeah,” Will said, nodding, not bothering to mimic the formality. He didn’t have the energy for it, not today.
Not for almost a week.
It wasn’t, of course, a first to be walking these hospital corridors with Abraham, nor was it unusual for Will to be a mostly silent participant in Abraham’s airing of grievances. But it was a first to have very nearly planned for it, to have hung around the bay until he knew Abraham would basically kick him out. It was a first to be grateful for it, to be dreading the moment they got to the exit doors. Frankly, Will could’ve listened to Gerald Abraham talk all evening, so long as it gave him an excuse to stay here.
An excuse to avoid going home.
“Orthopedics,” Dr. Abraham was saying, “needs to review their practices. I plan to call the chief up there tomorrow.”
“Good idea,” Will said, even though he knew that guy, and it probably wasn’t a good idea. He had an ego as big as the entire state.
When they pushed open the door, the heat and humidity felt oppressive, miserable. But Will didn’t much mind that, either. He’d get on his bike, take the long way back to his place. He’d sweat until he was so tired that he’d have to sleep tonight.
In fact it is against common sense, he thought, but ignored it.
“Dr. Sterling,” Abraham said, right as Will was setting his helmet on his head. “I would like to make note of my concern for you.”
Will paused, a hand frozen on one of his chin straps. For the first time, he noticed that Abraham wasn’t wearing the white coat. It made sense, he guessed, since the man was leaving, but it still made Will blink in surprise.
“Uh,” he said, which was not an approach he typically took with his boss.
“I note, for example, that you have taken two extra shifts this week.”
“Dr. Barrett-Goldberg had to take two personal days,” he said, by way of explanation, even though it was a cheap one. The scheduler had those shifts covered weeks ago.
“I also note that during those shifts you worked longer than twelve hours and you are, in fact, over the appropriate limit for physicians in our department.”
“I’m off tomorrow.” A horrible thought. His stomach hurt when he considered it, all those hours free, and no hope of Nora. Even the clinic wasn’t an option; he’d maxed out his hours there, too.
“And this is to say nothing of your mood,” Abraham added, as though Will hadn’t spoken. “Sullen, is how I would characterize it.”
Maybe, on any other day, Will would have taken offense. But the