Page 56 of Doctor One Night

“I am, but… I’m glad to catch you,” I say, surprising myself with how much I mean it. “Maybe we can meet again for coffee this week. I mean, if you're up for it.”

“That would be amazing,” he replies, almost a little too energetically. “I'll make myself available any time that works for you.”

“How about we touch base later in the week?” I say, my voice quieter now, and I’m not sure if I’m talking to him or myself. “I have a big project I'm working on that is trying to get off the ground in the short term. But I'll know more as the week goes on.”

“That sounds good. You know how to find me. I would really enjoy that.”

“Okay,” I say, smiling a little. “Take care.”

I hang up and sit in the quiet of my car for a moment, letting the conversation sink in. It wasn’t much, just a quick call, but it’s progress. Slow, but steady. Like we’re both trying to figure out how to navigate this, one step at a time.

As I start the car and head home, I can’t help but think about how everything in my life seems like it’s on the edge of something—my relationship with my father, this trial with Hunter, and especially whatever it is that’s happening between Hunter and me on a personal level.

It’s all so tenuous, so fragile, but for the first time in a long time, I think things might actually be moving in the right direction, somewhere toward happiness.

And that’s enough for now.

Frankie's House

7:46 pm

Carly arrives at my place not long after I get home. I had to run by the grocery store and then I picked up Chinese for us. I know Carly well enough to know she hasn't eaten a proper meal all day.

She’s still in her scrubs, of course, looking tired but cheerful as she steps inside. I'm sure being on her feet for twelve hours for the first time since the accident was hard, but somehow she always manages to show up like she is on top of the world. If I could have just a smidge of that optimism and eternal happiness I would get good to go.

“Hey, you,” she says, giving me a quick hug before dropping her bag and collapsing on the sofa. “I smell Chinese, don't I?”

“I was starving,” I admit, heading to the kitchen to prepare our dinner. “I got you your favorite.”

“General Tso's,” she finishes the sentence for me.

“Yes!” I grab plates and chopsticks and set them down on the coffee table. “I could definitely use some comfort food.”

Carly digs in, wasting no time. I’m about to do the same when she glances over at me, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“So,” she starts, her mouth full but probing, regardless. “When I ran into you at the hospital earlier, you looked like you had something on your mind. Or rather, someone. Who could that be, hmmm?”

My face immediately goes hot and turns a bright crimson, I’m sure. Of course she knows exactly who she’s referring to. “It’s nothing,” I say, trying to brush it off, but Carly just raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Frankie, come on,” she says, her voice a mix of amusement and concern. “We both know there’s some ‘there-there’ with you and Hunter. So quit playing dumb with me.”

I sigh, knowing there’s no point in trying to deny it any longer. Carly is like a dog with a bone when it comes to this stuff. “Okay, fine. There’s… something. I’ve resigned myself to the notion that it isn't, or wasn't, just a one time thing.”

Carly leans in, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Something? That’s it? I need details, girl. What's happened since we spoke yesterday morning?”

I take a deep breath, thinking back to everything that’s happened since then. Shit, has it only been since yesterday? “Well, after you and I spoke, I met with Hunter at the hospital. It was… awkward, to say the least. As you know, he didn’t call at all on Sunday.”

Carly nods, urging me to continue. “And?”

“And,” I say, rolling my eyes a little. “It was weird seeing him after that. Neither of us acknowledged it at first.”

“True,” Carly agrees, “but to be fair, you didn’t call him either, so it’s not like it’s all on him. This isn't the 1950’s, you know. The woman can call the man, too.”

“Yeah, I know,” I admit, feeling a little sheepish. “Anyway, after that, he invited me to join him for a drink that night. It was casual, nothing formal. And it just… it felt natural, easy. We talked, we laughed, and then we went for a walk.”

“A walk? How romantic.”

I happen to agree, but I don't let her taunt ruffle me. Or, at least I don’t show it.

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