Not that it stopped her. “That’s not what I’m talking about!” Tessa yelled after her. “No regrets, remember!”
Emily didn’t look back or stop. She just grinned and made her way to the elevator. Tessa was right. She had somewhere to be, somewhere that involved a beautiful physical therapist who Emily couldn’t stop thinking about. A woman who made herpulse race every time they locked eyes. It didn’t matter that Bette was the one who had shut things down before they even started.
It didn’t matter because Emily had made up her mind.
13
BETTE
Bette’s feet moved on autopilot, her steps carrying her back to the rehab center while her mind twisted itself into a hundred tight knots. It had been only a few short hours since she’d found out Emily had gotten approved for surgery. She should’ve known it was coming. Emily’s shoulder had improved every day, yet a part of her—one she didn’t like to examine too closely—had always imagined that moment going differently. She’d pictured being the one to share the news, watching Emily’s lovely face brighten like the sun with relief. Maybe they’d even have celebrated with a drink, letting things feel simple for once.
But no. Things had been fractured, and frankly, it was all Bette’s fault.
She’d fucked up. She’d pushed Emily away and for what? For being scared of giving too much of herself? For the possibility of heartbreak? Not that those feelings weren’t valid. They were. Bettehadto protect herself. She knew how easily things could go wrong––how easily a heart could be shattered.
With a hard exhale, Bette pushed open the doors of the rehab center, breathing in the scent of eucalyptus from the essential oil diffuser Maggie had set up at the front desk.
“Oh, good, you’re back,” Maggie said, tucking the phone she’d just been staring at, most likely doom-scrolling, into the top drawer. “You’ve got a surprise visitor.”
Bette squished her brows. “Who?” she asked.
“Doctor Emily Sharp.”
Bette froze mid-step. “Seriously?” she asked, her heart lurching in her chest. “Doctor Sharp is waiting in my office?”
“Yup.” Maggie nodded. “She came in like fifteen minutes ago and I told her you were out on rounds, but she insisted she’d wait for you. I told her she can do that in your office.”
Bette was utterly bewildered. She hadn’t expected to see the surgeon again so soon, especially not today. “Um…” she ran her fingers briskly through her hair. Her stomach flipped around like a bouncing ball. “Alright… I’ll go see what she wants.”
“She was smiling,” Maggie added before Bette crossed the room. Her young face was pulled in a way that said she was both confused and a little disturbed. “Like in a kind of crazy way. Too much teeth. You might want to approach with caution, Bets.”
“Noted,” Bette said dryly, her mind already racing with what that might mean. Was Emily nervous about her surgery? Was that why she was here—for Bette to check out her shoulder? Tell her everything was fine. Or was there something else going on? Something Bette wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with? Or more so, maybe she didn’t want to acknowledge that tiny spark of hope that had filled her stomach when Maggie mentioned Emily was looking for her.
But hope was often squashed.
Not wanting to drag it out any further, Bette made her way to her office, walking much slower than her usual sprinting pace. If she could, she would turn around right now, find an excuse toavoid whatever discussion was coming her way, and keep things professional, distant. But how could she remain distant when Emily Sharp was sitting in her office.
By the time Bette reached her office, her heart was thundering in her ears. She reached for the doorknob, hesitated for a fraction, and then swung the door open.
Emily was standing in front of Bette’s desk as if she’d been pacing but froze the second the door opened. Her posture was all wrong—too stiff, too forced like she was somehow trying to convince herself that she shouldn’t jump out the window.
“Doctor Sharp,” Bette said, her voice coming out a little raspier than she meant. But hell, her whole body felt tight, like her ribs were too small to contain her lungs. “What can I?—”
“Can we cut the whole Doctor Sharp bullshit?” Emily interrupted, stepping forward.
Bette was caught off guard. She hadn’t expected that response. But then again, what had she expected? “Alright. Emily, then,” she forced the words after a deep inhale, “What’s going on?”
“I need you to listen for the next minute, like really listen,” Emily said, her voice firm but just a little too fast, like she’d rehearsed this already. “Because I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I just need to say it.”
Bette stayed rooted to the doorway, her hand still on the handle, unsure if she should be getting ready to make a break for it. Whatever Emily had to say was bound to rock the very foundation beneath Bette’s feet; she was sure of it.
“I like you, Bette,” Emily said, her voice steady but her hands gave her nerves away, they were fidgeting at her sides. “And I’ve been trying to ignore it, to accept that you might not feel the same way, and I know it’s complicated and messy and probably?—”
“Hey, Bette, you’re eleven o’clock is here,” Steven’s voice interrupted as he popped his head into the doorway next to her. She hadn’t even heard his footsteps. “Should I tell her to wait in reception or find a plinth?”
Bette tightened her hand on the doorknob. She wasn’t sure if she welcomed the interruption or despised it. All she knew, was that she couldn’t keep her patient waiting. Mrs. Humphrey didn’t tolerate tardiness. “Tell her I’ll be right there,” Bette said.
“Will do.” Steven retreated just as quickly as he’d appeared.
