Page 108 of Doctor I Do

How the hell did I get here?

I shake my head in disbelief. Where the hell did my life go? It seems to have spiraled. I pushed her away and shouldn’t I be glad?

I should…

But fuck, I’m not.

Bringing the glass to my lips, I tip my head back and drain it.

I need to drink until I can’t feel the fear thrumming through me anymore. I get up and grab the bottle and escape to one of the rooms that she’s never been in, so I don’t have to see her beautiful face when I close my eyes.

Visions of her blur the more I drink.

I wish I could be happy, but I’m fucking shit scared.

What if I suck at being a dad?

What if I revert back to my old ways?

I wake up delirious in one of my spare rooms the next day. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in here.

It’s for guests only.

To think now I’m a guest in my own house.

I peel myself up and stroll to my bathroom, ignoring the way my head is yelling at me for drinking last night. Nothing coffee and food can’t fix.

I shower and dress and do the only thing that will allow me to run away from visions of her…work.

Before I think about hitting my office, I walk directly to the barista and order a coffee and a bagel.

But before I join the line, I hear my name.

“Alex,” a familiar deep voice bellows.

“Damien, man, how are you?” I step forward and shake his hand.

He shakes mine back firmly. “Busy, but good,” he says, stuffing his hands in his suit pockets after our exchange.

“Freshly shaven,” I say, noticing his beard is gone.

“You could do with a shave,” he says through a chuckle.

I rub my jaw, feeling the stubble under my palm, and with a smug grin, I say, “Nope, the wi—woman digs it.”

I almost said the wife. Like the word just rolls off my damn tongue and we’re not even married yet. If we even do get married now that I’ve made a mess of things.

My temple throbs. I can’t think about it right now. The headache will form into a migraine if I don’t stop with the running thoughts of Tahlia.

He laughs and shakes his head at me.

I ignore his tease and get away from my own shit to ask about him. “Talking ladies, how're the chicks loving the single dad tag?”

He pulls out a hand to scratch his brow before answering. “What women? I’ve been with none since—”

“Now you’re really pulling my leg,” I say, cutting him off, shocked.

He fires back quickly. “I’m a plastic surgeon with a young son. Not attractive to women at all.”

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