Page 77 of Doctor Mile High
I look up the to ceiling when tears threaten to fall again. “Because, Hanson. I don’t belong at the gala. I don’t belong there surrounded by people who have more money than most of the people in the city. I don’t belong in fancy dresses or jewels. I don’t even have a career anymore. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. It made me realize how different we are. How we’re at different levels in our lives. I’m just starting and he’s established. I’ll never be like the women he’s used to and eventually I won’t be enough for him. He belongs with?—”
“He belongs with who he chooses to be with, Dove. You’re basing these assumptions off fear and fear alone. Winston loves you so fucking much. He made me realize that?—”
“What? What do you mean?”
Hanson sighs, running his hand stressfully through his hair. “He and I had lunch the other day. He wanted to talk to me about why you and I weren’t talking. He made it crystal clear that there isn’t a chance in hell with me having you. He made me realize that I love you as a friend, but I’m not used to sharing you. I’m used to being the only one you counted on and I think I got that confused with what love actually is. That man loves you. He doesn’t care that you don’t have a six-figure career. He doesn’t care that you don’t come from money. Why do you think he’s with you? If he wanted to be with someone from that wealthy circle, don’t you think he would be? He wants you, Dove. You. No one else.”
I twirl the engagement ring on my finger, a tear falling from my face and directly on the deep green of the gemstone. “I can’t believe he met with you.” I chuckle.
“I wasn’t that kind to him either. Dove, he wants you.” Hanson steps forward and grabs my shoulder. “You have to start being kinder to yourself. You’re what he wants, and the only way to fix this is to talk to him. Winston is very much the confront-it type, not the runaway type, which is the one thing you’re going to have to try to do too, Dove. You can’t run anymore from what you don’t know. It’s okay to be scared. No one is saying you can’t be. In order to have what you want, you have to face your fears. There’s nothing to be afraid of, though. Winston loves you and you deserve that kind of love.”
“It’s intimidating sometimes, the age difference. It comes with life experiences and he has much more of that. I don’t have life experiences like he does.”
“If he cared about that, do you think he would have been with you at all?”
I tug at my fingers with anxiety. “No,” I mumble.
“No. So call him. Talk to him. And stop being dumb.” He playfully punches me in the shoulder.
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m being ridiculous.” I sniffle, wiping the tears off my cheeks and feeling a lot better after speaking to Hanson. “I’ve missed you, you know.”
“I know. I’ve missed you too. He told me things haven’t been the same since we had our fight. I’m sorry about that. I needed time to think,” Hanson says.
“Was it enough time?”
He gives a crooked smile. “It was. I’ll always be your best friend, Dove. I promise.”
I throw my arms around him and give him a tight hug. He embraces me, rubbing my back in soothing circles.
“Thank you, Hanson. For being here.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been.” He gives me a slight shove, causing me to stumble. “Come on, let’s go call Winston to come get you.”
I pat the pockets on my sweatpants, hoping I have my phone on me, but it’s still in my clutch which I put down in the living room. I run, swinging open the bedroom door, and rush down the family-photo-lined hallway to the living room. I need to find my clutch. I can’t remember where I placed it when I walked through the door.
“Mom, have you seen my—” I come to a stop by the couch when I see Winston standing in the middle of the living room, hands in his pockets, tuxedo jacket off, sleeves rolled up, bow tie loosened, and his usual perfect styled hair is a mess. “Winston.You’re…here.” I can’t help sounding shocked. I didn’t expect him here so fast. It’s only been a few hours. “Hi.”
He steps forward, his arm reaching out to me. Before his fingers graze my arm, he drops his hand, rubbing a hand down his face. I’m seeing how exhausted he looks now, compared to how he looked when we arrived at the party.
“Dove, I’m so sorry,” he begins, and when I open my mouth to say something, he cuts me off. “No, let me explain. You deserve that much. That woman who came up to me was paid off by Landon. I know her, yes, but that’s as far as it goes with her. Nothing more. Landon came up to me at the party and showed me the photos and said they had been sent to all the news stations around so everyone knew. He thought that would be enough for you to go and work for him, but I swear to you, that woman meant nothing to me. She never meant anything. He didn’t share the photos of when I shoved her away from me and warned her to never pull a stunt like that again.” He steps forward, taking my hands in his. “I swear, nothing happened with her. When you didn’t come out of the bathroom, I searched for you everywhere until someone said they saw you leave. I’m suing Landon for defamation, for both of us. You didn’t deserve to have your hurt blasted everywhere.”
“I shouldn’t have run away,” I admit, taking a deep breath and cupping his face. “I’m so sorry. I ran away when I shouldn’t have. I thought maybe I didn’t belong there. I’m so different than the people you’re used to, and when I saw the photos, I didn’t think, I ran. I won’t do that again. I’m sorry,” I say, hoping he’ll forgive me.
Grabbing both of my hands, he places them against his chest. “And that’s what I love about you, Dove. That you aren’t them.You being who you are is why I want to be with you. I don’t care about them, Dove. I only care about you.”
“I’m so sorry for embarrassing you like that.”
He skims his knuckles down my cheek. “You could never embarrass me. It was me who embarrassed you.”
“It was that motherfucker Landon that embarrassed the both of you,” Hanson interrupts. “And we need to do something about him, or he’ll keep harassing you until someone caves.”
“Hanson is right,” Winston states. “I think it’s time to get our hands dirty. It’s time to sink to his level.”
“What are we going to do?” I ask.
“Ruin his fucking life,” Winston sneers. “At last.”
21
