Page 56 of Burned By the Broken Doctor

“Anytime, son,” he replies, picking up his book again.

I make my way back up the stairs. What the hell am I going to do for forty-eight hours? I might as well give in and call her now.

I grab my phone, my thumb hovering over Emma’s name. My mind races, trying to find the right words to break this silence, to bridge the gap I’ve created. But as I stare at her name on the screen, doubt creeps in.

I drop the phone onto my bed with a frustrated sigh and start pacing my bedroom floor, racking my brain for ways to kill time during this compulsory break Dad imposed on me.

I glance around my room, noting the clutter of medical journals and unfinished paperwork. Usually, these would be my refuge, but today, they feel like a prison. I need a distraction, something that will keep me from obsessing over Emma and the mess I’ve made of things.

My phone buzzes, breaking my train of thought. I pick it up and see Damon’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey, man,” I answer, hoping my voice doesn’t betray my internal chaos.

“Liam! Just the guy I wanted to talk to. What are you up to tonight?” Damon’s voice is upbeat, the kind of carefree energy I desperately need right now.

“Not much. Got the night off, actually. What’s up?”

“Perfect timing! How about we hit up that new club downtown? I’ve heard it’s pretty wild, and I could use a good night out. What do you say?”

A night out. It’s exactly what I need. “Yeah, sounds good. What time?”

“Around ten. You can come over, right? Or do you need me to pick you up?”

“I’ll find my way.”

“Okay great.” I can hear the grin in his voice. “See you then.”

I hang up, feeling a small surge of relief. At least for a few hours, I can distract myself from the turmoil inside me.

I rummage through my closet, looking for something decent to wear. It’s been a while since I’ve been out like this, and the idea of a night of mindless fun is strangely appealing. I settle on a pair of dark jeans and a black shirt, something simple but presentable. I run a hand through my hair, trying to tame it into something less chaotic.

When I head downstairs, Dad is in the living room, engrossed in the evening news. He looks up as I enter, raising an eyebrow at my change of attire. “Going out?”

“Yeah, Damon invited me to a new club downtown. Thought it might be good to get out for a bit,” I explain, grabbing my jacket from the hook by the door.

He nods approvingly. “Good idea. Have some fun, you need it.”

“I will. Thanks, Dad.”

I’m feeling a bit lighter already.

Tonight, drowning the mess in my head in loud music in the company of strangers is a start to surviving the long scary hours of nothingness that my dad has suggested.

Tonight, I won’t think of what happens next, just focus on the now.

18

EMMA

“Come on, Emma,” June’s cajoles behind me, her voice dripping with mock exasperation. “You've been cooped up in this house for days, moping around like a lovesick puppy. This is exactly what you need—a night out, some good music, and maybe even a little dancing.”

I stand in front of the mirror, trying to get used to my reflection. The dress June picked out for me clings to every curve with an audacity that makes me blush. It's scandalously short, hitting mid-thigh, and the deep red color contrasts sharply with my pale skin.

“I’m not sure a night club’s exactly my scene.” I tug at the hem for the hundredth time, wishing it would magically lengthen by a few inches.

“Stop fussing, Emma. You look amazing,” June insists, her voice firm. She stands behind me, wearing a similar dress, though hers is a deep emerald green, complementing her dark hair.

She has one hand on her hips and the other brandishing a pair of silver loop earrings like triumphant trophies.

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