Page 34 of Doctor Enemy

Jackson finishes his coffee. Before he gets up, he says, “You should just admit that you’re interested in her. You’re going to be happier once you do.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m interested in her or not,” I tell him.

Jackson just gives me one of those stupidly smug looks of his, drops the mug into the sink, and leaves.

I try to sit there and relax after that, but the conversation leaves me restless. I can’t stop thinking about it. Channel surfing is my first attempt at distraction, but that gets me nowhere. Wrestling isn’t on, and I’m not interested in the rest of the soaps or game shows that are on right now.

Frustrated, I toss the remote back down onto the couch and rake my fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my face. Groaning, I ask myself, “The hell is wrong with you, Kurt?”

Unfortunately, I don’thavean answer. I should just admit it, huh? That’s what Jackson thinks? The last time I admitted it to someone… She broke my heart. Snapped it right in two.

That was it for me. No more genuine relationships after that. Not that what we had was genuine. But Lori…

Groaning again, I haul myself to my feet and go to the fridge, tugging it open. There are a few cans of cold coffee with the name OLIVIA written on them in sharpie marker. Some free-for-all cans of soda. And a veggie tray that was left over from last week's department head meeting.

And–nothing in here is good. I close the fridge and go back to the couch, bending over it to check the channels again. The frustration is sitting in my chest like a weight ready to drown me.

Just admit it.That’s what Jackson said. Admit that I want something with her. Well, fucking fine. What if I do? It’s not likeshewants something with me. Right?

Right?

The question seems to echo.

There’s still nothing good on TV. Not good enough to calm my racing thoughts, at least.

In the end, I decide to just start rounds ten minutes early, with the intention of staying and speaking with Robert Egedy, one of my newer patients, for a while.

Robert is six years into retirement and doing under-the-table handyman work. He took a fall from a ladder and was unconscious for an hour before anyone found him, but he’s doing fairly well at the moment.

He likes to talk.

Today, I stand around and listen to him.

I find myself dragging my feet with the rest of my rounds, too, not wanting to go in and see Lori just yet. It can’t be put off forever though, and eventually, I find myself rapping my knuckles against her door and letting myself in.

Considering she’s been in the hospital for the last few days, Lori looks amazing. She’s got the most stunning green eyes I’ve ever seen; you could really drown in them.

“Lori. How are you feeling?” I ask her.

“Like I really want to go home.”

“You’re in luck on that. If everything goes well the next few days, we’re going to put you into out-patient care. No work, but you can at least sleep in your own bed,” I tell her. “Did your mother decide to come?”

Judging by Lori’s frown, not much has changed about that. “She can’t afford the plane ticket, and her car is in rough shape. She won't let me help her. It's infuriating. I wanted her husband to drive her, but—” Shoulders bounce. “Long story short, no. She’s not coming.”

My mouth mirrors her frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“What day am I going to be allowed to check out?” Lori asks.

She holds still while I peel back the paper tape and remove the gauze pad over the incision. The stitches are tight and neat. While the bruising around them is still heavy and dark, there’s no inflammation or redness. No infection. “Three days. Why?”

“I need to find out if Olivia can drive me home,” she answers.

“I hadn’t thought about that yet. Your car, I'm sure it's totaled.” I make a note to have one of the nurse’s come in and clean the wound in the next hour, then replace the gauze pad.

When I look back down at Lori, I’m surprised to see her brows creased and an almost embarrassed look on her face.

It clicks. “But you aren’t worried about the car. Are you?”

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