Page 24 of Not My Finest Hour

Focus, damn it. Focus.

The reality is that I shouldn’t be writing this letter from scratch in the first place. Kim used to have a folder on this computer that had all the different types of letters she might need to send out to patients. But the last receptionist she had created all those documents, and when she left, she backed them all up on a flash drive and deleted them from Kim’s computer. I guess getting fired could turn anyone into a petty bitch. Sure, Kim could go after her in court, but she doesn’t want to waste the time or energy on her.

An hour goes by, a few clients come and go, and I manage to add a few sentences to the letter. Finally, it hits me. I know what I’m going to write in this letter, and I can feel the dam breaking as I type away. The little bell on the office door dings, and I go through my usual routine of telling the client I’ll be with them in a minute because I don’t want to lose my momentum.

“Hello, Dahlia.”

That boost, all of that flow I just had grinds to a screeching halt with the mere mention of my name.

I don’t look up. I don’t want to see his face. He hurt me, and I don’t want to relive that pain. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t see you on Dr. Waters’ schedule. And we don’t do walk-in appointments. If you’d like, I can schedule you for her next available appointment.”

I’m being juvenile. I know that. But I never expected to see Justin after he dumped me at the seminar, and certainly not here in my workplace. Quite frankly, it feels like he’s infringing on one of my safe spaces. My workplace should be a place where I can avoid constant reminders of my failed love life.

At least when Wesley came in to see me, he was smart enough to make an appointment. If Justin had done the same, then I’d have to acknowledge him. But since he’s not a patient here, I can go on ignoring him.

My attention stays on my monitor, and my fingers clack away on the keyboard. Not that I’m typing anything coherent right now. I’ve lost my train of thought, and now I’m only pretending to be working. If Justin came around to my side of the desk, he’d see nothing but a bunch of gibberish on the screen.

“Dahlia, I came in because I owe you an apology. You didn’t deserve the way things ended, and I’ve been feeling bad about it ever since,” he says.

I guess I can at least look up at him.

Dang it.That was the wrong move because I’d almost forgotten how gorgeous he is. Those ice-blue eyes of his pierce right through me. My heart starts beating faster, and I’m nervous all of a sudden. Does my hair look okay? My makeup? I wish I had taken more time with my outfit this morning. He looks so put together in his dress shirt and tie, and his beard has the crispest edges I’ve ever seen. All I can hope for is to not look too frumpy.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ve moved on. I’m seeing someone else now,” I say with all the confidence I can muster.

Justin nods slowly, and his gaze drifts away for a split second. And…is that disappointment I see in his eyes? Whydidhe come in here today? Was it because he wanted to get back together with me? Doubtful, since he was the one who ended things because of his code of ethics. But maybe he came here today to convince me to find another gynecologist so we could be together.

“I see. Well, I’m happy for you.” He lifts his lips up, giving me the barest hint of a smile.

“Yeah, it’s actually your friend from the seminar, Wesley.”

“We’re not friends,” he cuts in.

“Anyway, he came in here for an adjustment and then asked me out.”

“You and Wesley went on a date?” he says incredulously.

“Why’d you say it like that? Do you think I’m not good enough for him?”

His eyelids practically hit his eyebrows with how quickly they fly open. “That’s not it at all! It’s the other way around. He’s not good enough for you.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” I fire back.

“You have to believe me. Wesley is a conceited asshole who’s spent his whole life riding on his father’s coattails. You deserve better.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“That’s true. I am jealous. But all I want is for you to be happy. And if Wesley makes you happy, then so be it.” Justin takes a step back from the counter and turns toward the door. Before walking away, he looks over his shoulder and smiles a sad, somber smile. “It was good seeing you again.”

And then he’s gone.

That evening,when I arrive home, Fern is on the couch waiting for me.

“Oh, good, you’re finally home,” she says by way of greeting.

“It’s good to see you too, I guess.” Fern is dressed and looks like she’s ready to leave the house at any moment, which isn’t normally how I see her this time of day. “Is there a reason you’re waiting for me?”

“Mom invited us over for dinner, and I told her that we didn’t have anything going on.”

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