Page 59 of The Fall

“We aren’t going on a date. I’m taking you to see a Cowboys game.”

“Fine, call it what you will, Dr. Whitaker, but the connection is there,” Ollie remarked as Dean chuckled. “What are you laughing at? Are you blind? Look at her.”

“I have,” Dean said, still amused.

“Sorry,” I remarked to Dean, “he’s a little territorial and delusional.”

“Har, Har, doctor. Seriously, marry me. It’s my wish,” Ollie said in a serious tone.

“Ask me when you are twenty,” I mused.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I got shot down the first time I asked her to marry me.” I stiffened at Dean’s words as my face burned in recognition.

“She’s a heartbreaker,” Ollie said loudly, forcing me to turn around.

“You know, fellas, love ain’t all there is. There’s more to life.”

“Oh yeah? This should be interesting,” Dean said, seemingly amused by my statement, crossing his arms and leaning against the window.

“Yeah,” I said, agitated. “A lot more. It doesn’t have to be the center of your universe. It’s just a component. There are career goals, personal feats, stones to overturn, and rules to break.”

“Great argument,” Dean said weakly as Ollie did a slow clap.

“Did you get ice cream?” I asked Ollie, ignoring Dean, who was still staring at me.

“Yep, all set.”

“Great, Dean, let’s go. He needs a nap.”

“Don’t I get a kiss?” Ollie said, hopeful.

“When you’re twenty,” I replied, amused at his demeanor. He was only thirteen years old, and I could tell that one day, he would be a handsome man if he was graced with the time. I said a silent prayer for him then.

“Stop thinking about when I’m going to die, doc. If you’re joining oncology, you’re going to have to work on your poker face.

“Shit, it’s that obvious?” I said, terrified.

“Yep,” he answered quickly. “What are my chances today?”

“Thirty percent,” I shot back.

“Pucker up, baby,” Ollie said confidently.

“Atta boy,” I said before shutting his door.

“He’s right, you know. You wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re going to need to toughen up.”

“I’m tough!” I defended.

“In the smart assed, sassy, women’s lib kind of way. But you’re emotional, too.”

“Ew,” I said, walking toward the elevator. “I’m off to the dark side with Pierce. Wish me luck.”

“I had fun. Thanks for today,” he said, getting in the elevator with me.

“Sure,” I nodded, pushing the button for each of our floors.

“So, was that speech about love more for you or me?” he asked as he stepped toward me. “I don’t believe a word of it.”

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