Page 53 of Forgot to Tell You Something

A knowing look crosses his features. “I’m assuming you mean the dinner?”

“Yes. I’m assuming that’s how you know how delicious the mahi-mahi is there. I know who you escorted to the dinner. You must think me very foolish, Dr. Stevens. And until now, I suppose I have been. But I won’t be sloppy seconds for anyone. Not even you.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw.

Come at me, Dr. Stevens. I’m locked and loaded.

“Wow. First,” he barks, holding up one finger, “I didn’t escort anyone to the dinner. I recall asking you to be my date, but you refused. Oh, yes, because, two,” a second finger joins the first, “you claimed that we couldn’t be together, because ofyourrules. A decision I was adamantly against. So, don’t give me crap now because you’re jealous.”

Thebastard. “You’re right. I was jealous.Was.But then I realized, you’re just like every other guy. Not. Worth. My. Time.”

My words are untrue, but harsh zingers are my only defense against the ache in my heart. I don’t fool myself into believing I’m irreplaceable, but I didn’t plan on being optioned out this quickly.

Owen’s breathing is harried and uneven. My words have found their target. “I’m glad to know I’m not the only liar, then.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You told me you loved me. You were on board with marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. Whatever order it comes, right, Darlin?” Owen seethes, but there’s no warmth in the pet name, only pain. “But at the first obstacle, you cut and run.”

“This is not my fault.”

Owen throws up his hands, looking skyward. “I lied to you about my job. You’re right, and I’m sorry. I took a chance because I never felt this way before. So, I lied about what I do for a living, not because I’m ashamed of it. I’m damn proud of being a doctor. I worked my ass off to get here. But I lied because you informed me I didn’t stand a chance in hell if I was a doctor. Not a drug addict, not an adulterer, not an abuser—a doctor! So, I kept quiet to see if you would fall in love with me.” He leans in, his face inches from mine. “And you did. You fell as hard and as fast as I did. But in the end, my job title was more important than the fact that I love you.”

“Have you once, in all of this, stopped to consider how I feel?”

“Tally, that’s pretty much all I’ve done.”

I stand up, glaring down at him as he slouches into the chair. “No, you haven’t. Not once. You keep insisting that I should overlook this indiscretion, but your apologies are half-assed, at best. You didn’t come clean, Owen. I found out your identity from our chief-of-staff. In the weeks we were together, you had so many opportunities to sit me down and have a serious conversation, but you never did.”

“Would it have mattered?”

The truth? I would have been terrified and angry, likely punched a wall, and then spent a few hours in the ED getting my injured paw wrapped. But I would have caved. For Owen. For us.

But now, it’s too late. He’s moved on, or is in the process, no matter how much he argues that fact.

I shrug, wiping away a few more tears. “I can’t answer that because you never gave me a chance, but now you’re angry that I won’t give you one. I don’t abide by secrets and lies, Owen. Besides, you’ve already moved on. I don’t see what else there is to discuss.”

He needs to leave. Now. My bravado is as thin as rice paper, ready to crumble from one more blow.

Owen ignores my statement about Nicole, but he seizes on another part. “You want to talk about secrets, Tally? I didn’t know your father had dementia.”

“It wasn’t a secret. I didn’t tell you, because some people can’t handle the stress of chronic illness, particularly when their new girlfriend is the caregiver.”

Owen taps the desk with his thumb while his foot drums out a rhythm on the floor. I’ve seen him angry before, but this is a whole new level of agitation. “Here’s the problem with that statement. I’m not some people. When are you going to realize that?” He stands, pacing the small space. “I want to know about your scars.”

I freeze, externally and internally. I know Owen is aware of them, but I won’t dive headfirst into the shallow end of the pool. “I don’t want to talk about them, Owen.”

“Well, I do! I want to know what that son-of-a-bitch did to you because I’m paying the price for his actions. But you won’t tell me a thing, because that would involve letting someone in. Christ, even Stefani doesn’t know what happened with that man.”

My heart beats like a freight train, threatening to derail and explode into a million shattered pieces. “How dare you dig into my past without my permission. You have no right—”

Owen grabs my arms, forcing me to look at him. “Oh, I dare. I hoped your best friend might have some insight, but you’re a vault, Tally. Look at you, mad because I’m trying to find outwhathappened to you, instead of realizingwhyI’m trying to find out.”

My office line rings, and I’m thankful for the distraction. It’s the emergency department. I’m needed—one of my many hats at Memorial. I hang up the phone, taking a sip of water. “I have to go to the ED.”

“I would say we can talk later, but you never pick up the phone.” He shrugs, both of us searching for some way to fix this mess.

He follows me out of the office, and who, but Dr. Nicole Hedges is waiting at the nurses station. It would be funny if she weren’t trying to bag the man I love. Before Owen’s arrival, I saw her maybe once a month for a patient consult. The Emergency Department is her usual haunt. But lucky me has seen her a few times already this week.

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