Page 12 of Careless Hope

“Speaking of breathing,” Eryn quipped, “have you exhaled since you got back to Whittier Falls? I’ve heard the practice is packed. I called to make an appointment for next week.”

“Well, it’s been fairly busy but I’m losing patients too.”

Eryn’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Why?”

“People don’t want me, they want my dad.”

“People in Whittier are old fashioned and slow to change,” Sutton said. “But fuck ‘em. The ones leaving are a small fraction of the people you’ll be helping. And they’ll regret it soon enough when the good reviews start spreadin’ around.”

Eryn nodded, understanding. Surely as someone new to town she had experienced some of this herself. “I agree then. Fuck ‘em!”

A laugh bubbled up, but it was tinged with something else—a realization that had been simmering below the surface. The laughter faded, and I found myself voicing thoughts I’d kept locked up tighter than the prescription meds at the office.

“I’m not gonna lie—I’m feeling pretty out of my depth here. Not just with the practice, but . . . personally.”

I hesitated, my gaze flitting between their expectant faces. But Sutton was my best friend and Eryn had already made me feel comfortable in the ten minutes I’d known her. If I couldn’t open up to them, what was the point of even having girlfriends?

“You know, I spent all those years studying, interning, nose always in a book or a medical journal. And now, I’m this . . . doctor, but I don’t know how to be anything else. I just came from my parents’ house, where I was reminded by my mom yet again that my biological clock is ticking. And I haven’t even had a minute to stop and think about what I even want.”

“Well, that makes sense. You’ve been working so hard, I’m sure you never had much time to stop and try new things or plan your future.” Sutton leaned forward, her eyes sharp and insightful. “I don’t remember you ever telling me about guys. Have you dated at all?”

“I’ve had exactly one boyfriend—another resident at the time. Our schedules were so busy, we barely saw each other and it wasn’t exactly what I’d call romantic.” I sighed, plopping down in the wingback chair in the corner. “I don’t know the firstthing about dating, flirting, or even . . . sex.” The word hung in the air, heavy and foreign. “It’s like I missed that entire chapter in the book of life.”

Eryn stood, pouring another glass of wine and handing it to me. “Caroline, it’s never too late to start writing a new chapter. That’s what I did and believe me, it was the best thing I’ve ever done. Besides, half the town probably has a crush on the smart, beautiful new doctor. You’ll learn plenty in no time if that’s what you want.”

I took a sip of the wine which was smoother than I expected. “Smart and beautiful doesn’t exactly translate to experienced and confident,” I countered, my cheeks heating at the compliment.

“Experience is overrated,” Sutton chimed in, her grin mischievous. “And confidence? Well, that’s just something you fake until it becomes real.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve never had to fake anything,” I shot back playfully, though a part of me wondered if there was truth in her words.

“Hey, we’re here for you. I know we just met, but Sutton is family to me now and any friend of hers is a friend of mine,” Eryn said, her amber eyes glinting with a mix of compassion and determination. “Whatever you need—flirting tips, date-night ideas, or even the . . . ahem, sex talk—we’ve got your back.”

Their assurances wrapped around me like a warm blanket, soothing the frayed edges of my nerves. Perhaps with a little help from my friends—and damn, did it feel good to have friends again—I could navigate this uncharted territory. Maybe it was time to stop being just Dr. Caroline Cressley and start figuring out who Caroline was outside of the white coat and stethoscope.

“Okay,” I agreed, a tentative smile breaking through. “Let’s do this. But let’s start with the basics. How does one flirt without looking like they’re having aseizure?”

Laughter filled the room, echoing off the walls and lifting the weight from my shoulders.

“Okay, if that is your baseline, then you definitely need our help,” Sutton said.

I swallowed the rest of my wine in a single gulp while Eryn stood and grabbed a box to unpack.

“Come on, Doc. We’re gonna get you and your house sorted.”

Twenty minutes later, we’d already gotten through four of the boxes that had been sitting there for weeks. Maybe life really was better when you let yourself lean on others.

The bubble wrap crinkled under my fingers as I freed a framed photo of my graduating class, the edges of my mouth tilting upwards at the memory of valedictorian glory. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of cardboard boxes strewn about my living room.

“Look at you, all smarty-pants with your big ol’ diploma,” Sutton teased, plucking the picture from my grasp and setting it on the mantle.

“Brains over brawn,” I quipped back, though in this town, sometimes I wondered if the opposite held more sway.

“And as your newest patient, I appreciate that. But nevertheless, we’ll make a cowgirl out of you yet, Caroline,” Eryn chuckled, her bohemian dress swishing around her knees as she effortlessly hefted a box labeled ‘Books’ onto the shelf.

“Speaking of cowboys,” Sutton said, her gray eyes dancing with mischief, “tell us about running into Walker at the diner. You’ve been holding out on us.”

“How the heck did you hear about that?” I asked, before realizing this was Whittier Falls. You couldn’t do anything in public without at least three people reporting back on it. The look on Sutton’s face confirmed my suspicions.

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