Page 83 of Stuck with Doctor Grump

But I wanted to tell him everything, too. About the announcement. The invitation. How I almost burst into tears on stage. How every step I took today felt like stepping closer to the version of myself I’d always been too scared to become.

So instead, I texted back:

Me: You first. What happened? Also… I have a story for you. A big one.

I stared at the screen like it might light up with his face.

When it didn’t, I tucked the phone against my chest, leaned against the cool wall, and smiled softly to myself.

Maybe life wasn’t about knowing every twist in the path.

Maybe it was about holding onto the people who reminded you why the journey mattered in the first place.

And Damien? He was my favorite detour I never saw coming.

Chapter twenty-two

Damien

I sat across from the recruiter in a downtown Manhattan office that probably cost more per month than the entire flower shop back in Cedar Springs. Everything gleamed—polished glass table, chrome lamp, her expensive blazer. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the skyline pulsed with energy and noise, but inside, it was silent. Still.

She placed a leather folder between us like it was a peace treaty.

“Dr. Cole,” she began, her voice cool, precise, and confident. “We’re offering you full reinstatement—lead cardiac surgeon. New team. Your own research lab. Access to the best equipment in the country. And a bonus package most people only dream about.”

I didn’t blink. I’d read the email. But hearing it aloud made it feel more... real.

“You’d be working with an elite staff. State-of-the-art facilities. Patients flown in from around the globe. And we’ll cover yourrelocation costs.” Her gaze met mine. “Of course, full-time presence in the city is expected.”

I nodded, even though my jaw tightened at the word relocation.

“This isn’t the kind of offer we extend lightly, Dr. Cole,” she added. “We’re building the future of medicine. We want you to be part of it.”

She waited, probably expecting me to reach for the folder with both hands and sign on the spot. Once, I would’ve. Not long ago, this exact moment would have lit something inside me—a spark of ambition, the thrill of a challenge. Now, it just felt... complicated.

My fingers brushed the edge of the folder, but I didn’t open it.

Instead, my mind wandered—to soil-stained knees and a woman with paint on her elbow and a daisy behind her ear. Ruby’s voice, warm and real, teasing me about “bedside flowers” and humming while she arranged blooms with names I couldn’t pronounce.

I cleared my throat. “Can I think it over?”

“Of course,” the recruiter said, though I could hear the expectation in her voice. “We’ll need your decision by Friday.”

“Understood.”

We shook hands. Her grip was professional. Controlled. Exactly what this world demanded.

Back outside, the city hit me in the face. Horns, flashing lights, the rush of people brushing past like rivers split at the shoulders. I walked without a destination; the folder tucked under my arm like a weight I hadn’t agreed to carry.

I passed a coffee cart and the scent of burnt espresso mixed with exhaust. At the corner, someone was playing the saxophone, and two kids danced for loose change. This place was alive—no doubt. But something in me was... quieter now. Settled.

Eventually, I ended up back at the hotel and sat by the window, folder unopened on the table beside me.

I finally picked up my phone. No new texts from Ruby.

The last one I’d sent her was still there, waiting like a half-breath: "Call me when you can. I have news too. It’s… big."

I didn’t know what she’d say when she heard this offer. Or what I wanted her to say.

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