Page 52 of Burned By the Broken Doctor

I take a deep breath. “Hey, Emma.”

“Hi, Liam,” her voice comes through the receiver bright and sharp. “I just wanted to thank you for today. It meant a lot to me.”

“Sure, no problem,” I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral.

There’s a pause on the other end, and then she asks, “Do you want to finish the venue hunting with me tomorrow?”

I hesitate, knowing what I have to do. “I’m sorry, Emma. I’ll be busy helping to lessen the workload on my dad.”

I can hear the disappointment in her voice. “Oh, okay. I understand.”

“Goodnight, Emma,” I say, trying to end the call quickly.

“Goodnight, Liam,” she replies softly.

I hang up and let out a sigh. This is for the best. Keeping my distance is the only way to protect myself from getting hurt. I walk out of the hospital, the night air cool against my skin.

I need to stick to this decision, no matter how much it hurts.

16

EMMA

The warm sun burns through my sundress and into my back.

I'm standing in the garden, watering the flowers. The rhythmic sound of water hitting the soil is usually soothing, but today, it's doing little to calm my restless mind.

I’m babysitting Ethan again today, along with two of his friends. I look up to check on them. Ethan is a whirlwind of energy in a green t-shirt, chasing a scruffy terrier named Lucky around the yard, his friends trailing behind them.

Ethan nearly collides with a rose bush in his enthusiasm, and I gasp.

“Easy there, guys!” I call out loudly over their laughter. “Remember, Lucky's not used to a whole pack chasing him around in such a small space.”

The laughter dies down momentarily, replaced by a chorus of “Yes, Aunt Emma!” Ethan adds a wave back at me to tell me he’s okay and jumps up again, not missing a beat in his game. They're off again, their youthful energy infectious.

I shake my head and chuckle to myself. I return my attention to the flowers. The hydrangeas, thirsty from the recent heatwave, seem to be drinking up the water like it's going out of style.

As I water the plants, my thoughts turn elsewhere. It’s been three days since I called Liam, and he hasn’t reached out since. The silence is gnawing at me, making me second-guess everything.

Suddenly, the gentle patter of the stream exiting the watering can turns into a forceful gush. My hand slips on the handle, and a torrent of water slams into the delicate lavender plant beside the hydrangeas. A string of muttered curses escapes my lips as I scramble to adjust the nozzle. Too late. The damage is done. The lavender, once boasting purple blooms, now resembles a drowned rat, its fragrant leaves limp and lifeless.

I let out a frustrated cuss under my breath. “Stupid,” I mutter to myself, yanking the hose away and moving on to the next plant.

Frustration gnaws at me. It's been like this for the past two days. Simple tasks feel like insurmountable challenges because my mind constantly drifts off in a sea of unanswered questions.

It’s been hard to manage these three days of radio silence. No text, no call, nothing. Why the sudden withdrawal?

Ethan runs up to me, his face flushed from playing. “Aunt Emma, can we walk the dog down the road with Rio and Ryan?”

I pause, my hand still on the hose. “Do you have your safety wristband on?”

He nods eagerly. “Yes, I do.”

I nod absently, barely registering his enthusiasm. “Okay, just stay where I can see you.”

“Thanks!” he calls, and then he’s off, the dog bounding after him with Rio and Ryan trailing behind.

I try to focus on the task at hand, but my mind keeps drifting back to Liam. Why is he pulling away again? I’ve resisted the urge to call him for the past three days because I don’t want to seem clingy, but his silence is driving me mad. I replay our last conversation in my head, searching for any hint of what might have gone wrong.

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