Page 93 of Wistful Whispers

I’ve always assumed Marcella was trying to protect me.

What if she wasn’t?

What if she was doing her job?

Dr. Madison softens. “You’re not naïve, Seamus. You’re loyal. Sometimes, the two can get tangled.”

I nod. “Thank you for your concern.”

She gets up and puts her hand on my shoulder. “You’ve earned the heads up. Don’t waste it. If you can navigate through this, you're going to be a world-class surgeon, doctor.”

My pulse stutters.

Because now I’m not just wondering how to salvage my residency.

I'm wondering if I’ve misread everything with Marcella.

Did she really care about me? Or was I just strategy?

Fuck.

If I can’t be sure of her motives…how can I be sure about us?

twenty-nine

Marcella

Two Days Later

It’sSaturdayeveningasI pull into the parking garage.

I’m not looking forward to an empty condo.

Seamus has been buried in the hospital all week—long hours, back-to-back cases, late-night rounds.

Some version of us still exists.

Though he didn’t text back last night when I went to dinner at my parents’ and crashed at Rosa’s.

I told myself he was busy. Tired. Distracted.

I’m trying not to read into it.

Which, for me, means I’ve already drafted a worst-case scenario and three contingency plans I’ll never admit to having.

My sister told me not to worry.

Impossible. I’m scared to death. He hasn’t been himself—then again, we really haven’t known each other long. Maybe thisishimself.

Anyway, the bloom seems to be off the rose.

So when I open the door to my condo, I don’t expect to find Seamus hunched over his laptop at my dining table, surrounded by half-drunk cups of coffee and what looks like a digital graveyard of a hundred open browser tabs.

He’s wearing a navy-blue hoodie with sleeves shoved up to his elbows. His hair is its usual mess, like he’s been running his hands through it all afternoon. The overhead light casts sharp shadows on his face, highlighting the strain in his jaw.

He looks up when he hears me drop the keys on the counter and for a split second, the corners of his mouth lift. “You’re back.”

“I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you had to work.” I set my overnight bag down. Something about the way he doesn’t stand and cross the room to kiss me makes my stomach knot up.

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