Page 18 of Playing with My Heart

“You’re right. I’m sorry. What would you like to talk about?” David gave me a soft smile as he locked our fingers together.

I took another sip of wine, racking my brain to come up with another topic. “Paint!” I practically shouted.

“Paint?” he asked, startled by my outburst.

“Uh, yeah. Our apartment is so dingy. I was thinking that a coat of paint might brighten it up some. What do you think? Maybe a light blue or a soft yellow?”

David smiled at me indulgently. “You pick. I’m sure whatever you decide will look great. Although, I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to help, what with this schedule the hospital’s got me on.”

My smile wavered at the reminder of his busy schedule and how many nights I’d spent alone. His job in Cincinnati had been busy too, but I’d been hoping the move would mean a fresh start for the two of us, one where we made sure to carve out time for one another. Instead, we seemed to be drifting even further apart.

After dinner, we walked hand in hand to the nearby theater, the night air balmy against my skin. Settling into the plush seats, I leaned closer to David as the lights dimmed, hoping to sneak in a moment of intimacy, a taste of what he could look forward to once we got home. My lips found his cheek, trailing a path to the corner of his mouth, but he turned his face away with a weary sigh.

“Sorry, I’m just tired,” he murmured, and the rejection stung more than I expected.

I sat back, a hollow sensation settling in my chest. When was the last time we’d truly connected? The thought lingered uncomfortably as the movie played on, a backdrop to my spiraling doubts.

The sudden glare from David’s phone screen broke the darkness. He checked the message, his expression shifting to one of apology. “I’m sorry to cut our date short, but I have to goin to work,” he whispered. He was out of his seat and sliding past the row of people before I’d even had time to process his words.

Outside, under the harsh glare of streetlights, our whispers escalated to heated words—words that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me in the middle of a date!”

“What would you have me do? It’s my job. They need me to come in, I go in.”

“I’m well aware it’s your job but there’s more to life than work. I moved here to be with you, but I barely see you anymore, David,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.

David’s jaw tightened, his eyes mirroring my own frustration. “You know my job isn’t a nine-to-five gig, Parker.”

I knew the demands of being a doctor, of course, but understanding didn’t quell the growing chasm between us. A sense of loss enveloped me, a chill that settled deep in my bones. We used to be inseparable. Unable to keep our hands off each other, we’d sneak any moment together we could. Now, arguments were our most frequent exchanges, each one chipping away at the foundation we’d built together.

A taxi pulled up alongside the curb. “Go,” I urged, my voice breaking. “Your patients need you.” He hesitated, a flash of something like regret crossing his features before he turned and climbed into the back seat.

Alone on the dark sidewalk, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. The taillights of the cab with David in it had disappeared around the corner. The urge to reach for my phone, to find solace in a familiar voice, was almost unbearable.

I could just imagine Travis’s warm, teasing tone, his laughter like a balm to the sting of the argument David and I had just had. But no, I couldn’t—shouldn’t—make that call. It wasn’t fair to either of them, to use Travis as an emotional crutch every time David and I hit a rough patch. Besides, the thought that Travis might be with someone else, skin glistening with sweat as he lost himself to pleasure, twisted my stomach into knots.

Fuck, why did that image make me feel like I’d been sucker-punched? “Get it together, Parker,” I muttered to myself.

Travis was probably tangled up in some stranger’s sheets, chasing after whatever fleeting connection he could find. And here I was, tormented by the idea while being committed to another man—a man I loved.I do love David—don’t I?

The question echoed hollowly in my mind as I trudged down the street, the rhythmic tap of my shoes against the pavement keeping time with my racing heart. Love shouldn’t feel like this; it shouldn’t be riddled with doubt and punctuated by solitude.

A couple brushed past me, their laughter a stark contrast to the silence that clung to my skin. They were wrapped up in each other, sharing the kind of look that spoke of inside jokes and shared secrets—the look I used to exchange with David before the distance crept in between us. Where had that version of us gone?

I finally reached the apartment we shared, its familiar doorway offering no comfort tonight. The key turned in the lock with a soft click, and I stepped into the silent darkness. No light greeted me, no warmth of a welcome home kiss. Just the echo of my own footsteps as I moved through the empty space.

The bed felt too big as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of my thoughts pressing down. I missed David, but was it him I missed or the memory of what we used to be? As sleep eluded me, the realization dawned that happiness was more than just being content with what you have. It was about feelingalive, cherished, and connected. I yearned for those sparks of joy that seemed so elusive now, save for moments stolen with a friend who was slowly becoming something more. More confused than ever, I closed my eyes on a sigh, the silence of the room amplifying the disquiet in my soul.

Chapter Seven

TRAVIS

The scent of wildflowers and the rustle of leaves underfoot created a symphony of summer that surrounded Parker and I as we hiked along the winding trail. A sheen of sweat glistened on both our foreheads, evidence of the exertion and the heat, but neither of us seemed to mind.

“Man, this is great,” I panted, my breath catching up with the pace we had set.

“Absolutely,” Parker agreed, his eyes reflecting the vast expanse of blue above us. “David’s not much for physical stuff like this. It’s nice to have someone to share it with.”

I glanced at him, noting how the sunlight played across his dark hair, making it gleam with hints of auburn. “Yeah, I get it. All my buddies are…indoor kind of guys.”

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