Page 105 of The Plus One Professional

Was that the look of love?

And if it was, did I totally blow my chances?

Was I too late?

44

COLE

I pulledinto the San Francisco General Hospital parking garage and wondered if there was a program for preferred parking I could get as a regular visitor. I had spent way too much time here over the past six years. For the last few months of Peter’s life, he’d been here. Sara had been by his side while I watched Carly, who was five at the time. I’d brought her here most days to see her dad. Then, once Sara got sick, we’d been frequent flyers. The only good times I’d had at this hospital were when my nephews and niece were born here.

When I got out of my work truck, I glanced down at myself and wiped my hands down my torso. My white T-shirt had several dirt stains. My jeans were dusty. I looked like I’d just walked off a construction site, which I had.

Sara had gone in for a routine checkup this afternoon, and Dr. Miller must have seen something he didn’t like because he’d ordered an MRI with dye, blood work, and several other tests, which I only found out after speaking to my niece. I called Carly to see how the appointment went when I couldn’t reach my sister, and she told me they were all at the hospital. I’d left work and driven straight here.

The automatic doors opened, and I checked in with the front desk to get my visitor pass. I handed her my license and saw the corner of a wrapper from one of the condoms I’d bought but hadn’t used with Bailey, and my chest tightened. A deep ache that had been just below the surface rose to the top of the emotional ocean I’d been drowning in. I missed Bailey. I missed her more than I even knew it was possible to miss someone.

I knew I had it bad when condom wrappers made me feel sappy and sentimental.

A week and a half had passed since she’d given the it’s-not-you-it’s-me speech, but it felt like it had been a year and a half. The days dragged by. Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days. Days felt like months. A week felt like a year.

It took every ounce of self-control that I had to respect the boundaries that she’d set. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d picked up my phone to call or text her, but I hadn’t. I was happy to say I hadn’t driven by her home, but I had made two additional stops at Sweet Temptations on the off chance that I’d see her, even if it was only through the window, but, sadly, there were no sightings.

The only link I’d had to her was a few emails from Billie about the house. I was going to be meeting Billie there this weekend, and as much as I wished that Bailey would be there too, I doubted that would be the case. She’d made up her mind that I wasn’t the right guy for her.

As much as I knew in my heart that she was wrong, my head wasn’t convinced that was the case. I was at odds with myself. One day, I’d be sure that we could overcome any obstacles that might be in our way. The next, I thought she was better off without me. I’d been on an emotional teeter-totter, and it was exhausting.

The second the elevator doors opened on the third floor, where radiology was located, I could hear my nephews. Their voices carried in the long hallways. When I came around the corner, I saw Carly on her phone, and the boys were play fighting with imaginary light sabers, sound effects, and all.

There was another couple in the waiting area, and I doubted they wanted a reenactment of Obi-Wan Kenobi vs. Darth Maul fromThe Phantom Menace, which was the twins’ favorite movie.

“Boys.”

That was all I had to say. One word, and they both hopped up on the chairs. They knew better than to be that loud and rowdy in waiting rooms, especially medical waiting rooms, where people are dealing with illnesses that might not be visible to the eye. But they were also five years old and, unfortunately, had spent way too much time in doctor’s office waiting rooms.

“Hey C-Dawg.” I ruffled Carly’s hair. “Is your mom already back there?”

She smoothed down her hair without glancing in my direction. “Yeah.”

One-word answers. I’d noticed more and more of those the closer Carly got to being a teenager.

I started to lower myself in a chair when Rita, whom I’d known since coming to radiology with Peter, called out my name. “Cole.”

I glanced up.

“You can go back if you want. She’s still got about ten minutes before the test.”

“Are you okay with the boys?” I asked my niece.

“Yeah,” she responded, as if that were the dumbest question ever posed to mankind.

Oh boy. The teen years were going to be so fun.

I looked at the twins, who were now playing on their Nintendo Switches.

“Boys. Best behavior.”

Luke gave me a thumbs-up, and Leo didn’t answer verbally either, but I knew he’d heard me because he sniffed and lifted his chin up slightly, which had been his preferred form of response the past week or so. I’m assuming he must have seen someone do it in a movie or in real life and thought it was cool. It blew my mind how kids were like little sponges. They soaked up everything. Which was terrifying.

---