Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I gave her a supportive smile before wrapping my arm around her and kissing the top of her head. Her arm went around my waist, and we stood there together, a united front, siblings who would always have each other’s backs, who trusted and loved each other…while I thought about Ryder, the only man she’d ever loved, and ached with need for him.
14
Ryder
It was late when I heard the knock. I hadn’t even tried to sleep, sitting in the living room with the television on mute, plucking strings on my guitar and thinking about Hutch. It felt as if I was always thinking about him now, but I knew he had a hard time with his family, knew being around his dad always made him feel not good enough.
Still, I hadn’t expected him to come over, but I knew it was him.
I shoved to my feet, set my acoustic on the coffee table, and went to the door. Sure enough, he was there, wearing jeans with a button-up shirt, his tie loose around his neck.
“Sorry,” he said. “I know it’s…fuck, after midnight. I just…” He held on to the doorjamb, one side in each hand. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
The slight tremor in his voice was like an earthquake inside my heart, shaking it until it cracked open. “Because we’re friends. You don’t need a reason to be here, Hutch.” I wanted him there, more than I should. Wanted to be the person he went to when he was happy or sad, when he had a funny story to tell or needed someone to hold him. I wanted to be all those things to Hutch, no matter how much I shouldn’t. “Get inside.”
I took his hand and pulled him in. Once the door closed, he tangled our fingers together, interlocking them, brushing his thumb against my palm, before he sighed and pulled away.
Jesus, something was really fucking wrong with him tonight.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked.
“No.” Hutch walked over to the couch and sat down, and I stood a few feet away from him, leaning on an armchair. His right leg bounced, a rapid beat. “I lost a patient today.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”
He looked up at me. “How do you know?”
“Because I do. Because you will always do your best for patients, but the fact of life is people die…every day. They’re sick or hurt, and medical professionals fight for them, but it doesn’t always work. You tried to help, but you’re not a miracle worker. You can’t fix everything.”
“But I fucking want to!” he said, his voice tight, before shoving to his feet and pacing my living room. “I want to fix every patient I see, and I wanted to fix Maddy when she was sick. I wanted to help people like her, but even that I couldn’t handle. I started oncology, and I couldn’t fucking do it! I quit because I knew it would hurt too much, seeing the same person day after day and then losing them. I started having panic attacks because of it.”
Shit. I hadn’t known. I didn’t think any of his family or friends knew. “Hutch…”
“I thought it would be easier in the ED. I… Fuck.” He stopped moving, ran his hand over his head, fisted his hair. “I didn’t get to be the one to fix Maddy, to take her pain away or to erase the hurt my parents felt every time they looked at her, so I wanted…I wanted to do that for other people, but I was too fucking weak. I want to be who my dad wishes I were, even though I’m too damn old to give a shit. I want to be the son my parents are proud of. I hate fucking up, but it seems like that’s the only thing I do.”
“Jesus Christ, Hutch. What the fuck planet do you live on that you don’t realize how goddamned incredible you are? You couldn’t go into oncology because of that big-ass heart in your chest. Because you care too much and protected yourself, but you still went into medicine to help people. You heal them. You make it so people can go back to their loved ones every day, so who gives a shit if it’s not the same kind of doctor who helped Mads. And fuck your parents—I’m sorry, but someone has to say it. They have given you a hard time since you were a child! They ignored everything good you did because they were busy worrying about Mads. I get it, I do, but do they even realize how much they hurt you? That you’ve spent your whole damn life seeing her get their love and attention while you were the one they went to when they needed something done or to pile all their expectations on. Their lives revolved around her and her needs, and you were expected to understand things you shouldn’t have to understand and deal with things you shouldn’t have to deal with. You’ve felt more alone because of it than you’ll ever say.”