Page 11

The Truth

True to my character, I arrived at Sal’s twelve and half minutes before my designated meeting time with Kyle. Necessary? No, but my fear of being late always trumped rational thought. Plus, my parents died in a car accident, so I lived my life obeying each and every speed limit. Reckless driving, even when late, would never be my thing.

“Would you like to order a drink while you wait?”

“Maybe eight,” I said, surveying their small cocktail menu. I’d been nervous about this meeting-not-a-date all day and wondered why I’d agreed. The restaurant was half full, with soft music underscoring the quiet conversation. An oak bar across the room sat apart from the kitchen, which I thought was an odd setup.

“What are you contemplating right now?”

I looked up and my bar to kitchen relationship query flew right out of my brain. Kyle wore a black sweater dress and another messy ponytail. This one was even more perfectly messy than the last. She did it to me again with the ponytail! It’s like she knew how I felt about her in them. More likely she knew how everybody felt about her in them. She was Kyle, after all, and had to know that.

“Why are you here so early? We’re not supposed to meet for five more minutes.”

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” she said, sliding into the chair across from mine. “And anyway, you’re even earlier than me.”

“Don’t point things out,” I said, doubling down on my own nonsense.

“Never again.” An amused grin graced her features. She brushed a strand of that dark hair from her eyes. “What are we drinking? Dirty martini for you and a Manhattan for me?”

Because I had decided to be perpetually grumpy in her presence, which went against every normal behavior pattern I had, I pretended to peruse the menu further. “Probably going to try something else.”

“What are we having?” our server asked, returning. I was pretty sure he was Lana and Simon’s son, Preston, who’d gone off to law school before coming home, horrified by the study load.

“Dirty martini for me,” I said, refusing to look at Kyle.

“I’ll have a Manhattan.” Kyle placed the cocktail menu on the table, signaling we might need it later. “And can we order your calamari to start? Is that okay?”

“Yes,” I said. Sal’s calamari was a favorite of mine. How had she known? She hadn’t. We were just really good at meshing together. I’d known that part from the start.

Possibly-Preston took down the request and flashed a smile. “On it. And I’ll be right back with those drinks.”

“How was the ER today?”

Kyle shook her head. “There’s nothing like it, Potter. In my most dramatic case of the day, I removed three porcupine quills. That would never have happened in Charleston. The pace and style of care is entirely different.”

I nodded. “That makes sense. And I’m guessing it was one of the Martins? Porcupines aren’t native to South Carolina, but the Martinettes have that little wildlife rescue on about six acres and take rehab cases from all over.”

“I can confirm that the animal was not a local. Didn’t even know what a Jessamine was.”

“Hence his displaced anger and those lodged quills.”

“I still can’t believe that this is what living out here is like.”

I laughed. “Don’t say out here. We’re not another planet.”

“Feels like it.” She covered my hand. “In a really good way.” Only she didn’t take it away right off and I stared at our point of contact, my skin running hot beneath her touch. Catching my surprise, she slowly withdrew it just as our drinks were placed in front of us.

“Are you the new doctor?” Preston asked.

“I think so?” Kyle answered. “I certainly am both of those things.”

“My mom pointed you out at the Grinder.” Don’t even get me started on the name of our town’s coffee shop. It was equally horrifying and hysterical at the same time. “She thought I should get your number.”

My eyes narrowed. Was Preston the law school dropout hitting on my date? I shook my head at my own brain’s error. At my dinner companion .

“She sounds very sweet.” Kyle peeked over at me. “We might be ready to order when you are.”

I stared at Preston hard. “I’ll take Sal’s Chicken Penne,” I said to the tune of I’ve got my eye on you, buddy.

“Make it two,” Kyle said in a much more serene delivery.

Once we were alone, she turned her focus back to me. “Everyone is so friendly here.”

“One word for what that was.”

She sat back in her chair and eyed me. “Wait a minute. Are you a little jealous?”

“Not in the slightest,” I said, and sipped my drink, ready to speed things along. The strong taste of vodka and olive juice offered me the mix I needed to take us there. “So, you’ll never believe this, but four months ago, I showed up on this adorable bridge in Charleston and waited.”

Kyle nodded, the smile slipping right off her face. Rightfully so.

“And waited. But no one ever showed up.”

“That must have been an awful day.”

I didn’t like to revisit those memories, for fear of being swallowed up whole by them all over again. “It was. So…what happened?”

For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of panic behind her eyes followed by a look of resignation. “No matter what I say, it’s not going to be good enough. But I’ll do my best.” She swallowed and met my gaze. “It wasn’t a good day for me either, mainly because I knew you were there waiting for me and I was paralyzed. I wish I’d handled it differently.”

“Why were you paralyzed?” I could barely move waiting for her response.

“I lost a young patient at the hospital about a month before the day we were set to meet. I lose patients on occasion, and it’s not that you ever get used to it , but you do learn to cope. This time was different.” She sat back as if transported. “He was just a kid who’d been in a pretty bad bike riding accident, multiple injuries, several systems affected. Every step of the way there was a new obstacle I wasn’t expecting. But he should have pulled through.” She paused. “And didn’t, possibly because of a decision I made.”

“Oh,” I said, absorbing.

“It was one of those moments as a physician where you’re standing at a crossroads, and you have to make the best call possible in a short amount of time and with no information. Yet the center of someone’s entire world, their kid, is in your hands.”

“I’m sure you did the best job you could.”

“I don’t know that I did. I never will. I think about that day a lot. Replay each small moment wondering what would have happened if I had made a different choice for him. I pushed for surgery. That’s what it came down to. I pushed, and he wasn’t stable enough.” She shook her head almost imperceptibly, seemingly swimming in self-recrimination. My heart tugged uncomfortably as I searched for any words that might help. The reality was, I was out of my depth.

“Kyle. You can’t do this. You can’t second-guess yourself over something you can’t change now.”

“I’m not the only one who did. That’s the next part. I was placed on leave while the hospital investigated after the family brought a lawsuit. It got very ugly very fast, and I found myself, I don’t know…” She paused as our water glasses were refilled. “Grief stricken and lost. Questioning everything. My ability to practice medicine, my place in the world, who I was meant to be. And I couldn’t stop thinking about that family losing their son and brother. This twelve-year-old kid who had his whole life ahead of him. Who would he have been and what would he have contributed to this world if I hadn’t been the doctor on call that day?” Her focus fell to the white table cloth as if looking for refuge. “I wanted to be there, Savanna. I’d been looking forward to that day since the moment I said goodbye to you.” She raised her eyes to me. They were brimming with fresh tears. “But when the time came, I couldn’t face you when I could barely face myself.” She whispered that last part, the emotion strangling her voice.

For a few moments, neither of us spoke.

Finally, I asked the second question I’d been carrying with me for months. “Why didn’t you reach out? Tell me what happened. Maybe I could have been there for you.”

“I didn’t know what to say or how to explain. I was lost in every sense of the word. I doubted everything, but most of all myself. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in that situation, but it’s the worst.” She looked away, embarrassed, and used her napkin to dab at the tears before they could escape. “So I just sat there that evening, alone in my apartment, watching the time crawl by until you were surely gone forever.”

My heart tore witnessing the anguish that washed over Kyle’s face. I’d never seen her look so broken, so completely devoid of her signature confidence. I forgot about my own feelings, unclenching the resentment I’d been hauling around for months. “And now?”

“I’ve had time to pick up the pieces. The lawsuit was settled. I was invited back to work, but it didn’t feel like the right fit anymore.” Her eye contact was unwavering. “And now I’m here for you.”

The sentence about knocked me out of my seat. I wrestled for the talking points I’d been handing myself and anyone else who asked about Kyle. “I put us behind me.” The words hung in the air, unconvincingly. A mirage.

“I don’t think our story’s over, Savanna.”

“I know, but I think it has to be.”

She slid her hand forward on the table and her pinkie touched mine. That little bit of contact left me without my next inhale.

“I don’t think I can take another bridge.” I pulled my hand away and into my lap.

“You won’t have to. I’m not asking you to marry me.”

I leaned in. “You’d leave me standing there at the altar.”

She closed her eyes and took a moment. “I deserve that.”

“Maybe you don’t. I’m just a little off my game, okay? I’m sorry if that was a low blow.”

She gestured as if wiping a dry erase board clean. “All I’m asking for is a chance to get to know you again. Cards on the table this time. And I’m going to start with a confession.”

“Okay.” My heart thudded. I felt like I was a passenger in a car moving way too fast.

“I never should have let you go after that weekend. Not for a year, not for a day. I’m not a perfect person, but I don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

The imaginary car slowed down. I took a breath. Because what if? What if the bridge was only a symptom of the season in Kyle’s life, not at all indicative of her true tendencies? I’d sworn off love. I’d sworn off risks. I’d sworn off Kyle. Was I ready to undo all of those?

“I don’t know.”

“That’s a perfectly legitimate answer.” Our food arrived and we smiled at Preston.

“It was looking serious over here for a second. Another round?”

“No,” I said.

In the same moment Kyle said, “Sure.” I swiveled back, and she flashed me a smile. “C’mon. For old time’s sake.”

“Fine. But that’s it.” Getting drunk with Kyle was not on my agenda. But the food was beyond excellent, and I was pretty sure Sal had stepped up his game in the sauce department.

“You look like you’re hovering in the land of the happy,” Kyle said, gesturing with her fork.

“I’m never eating again. A, Because this experience can never be matched. B, I don’t want this food to feel jealous in any way. C, I’ll be too full to attempt it.”

Kyle nodded. “It’s big of you to care about the food’s feelings.”

“Well, it deserves and has earned every ounce of my consideration. How’s yours?” I peered at her plate. She’d done an impressive job. My kind of dinner companion.

“Just as wonderful. I think it might be in my interest to order what you order everywhere I go.”

“That might be the best compliment I’ve had all year.”

“I can do so much better.” Kyle went back to her plate as a flutter moved through my entire midsection. I knew acutely how she could make me feel.

“Dessert?” Probably-Preston asked.

“No,” we said in unison, sitting back in our chairs. That prompted a moment of shared laughter, and I couldn’t help but relish the true happiness behind her eyes, a welcome sight after her anguish earlier. I realized something key in that moment. I didn’t want to punish Kyle or see her unhappy in any way. I was simply protecting my heart, maybe a little more fiercely than the average person, given the loss I’d experienced in my life.

“I’ll take the check,” Kyle said.

“I think that’s fair for the whole bridge incident,” I said and sipped the last of martini #2, already in full effect. I’d be picking my car up later. Praise the wonders of Uber and whoever thought to invent it.

“We’re near the water. Want to walk down to the beach?” She looked down at my foot, which was better than she’d last seen it, but still achy. I was down to one crutch. “Or in your case, hobble?”

“Okay, but don’t think I’m going to magically find a beach the perfect setting for romance and stars and hearts.”

“I would never think that about you.” She stood. “You’re cold like ice and prickly.” She shivered.

“Yikes. Ow.”

With that, she turned and headed for the door, leaving me hurrying after her.

“I’m just checking in because my martini-influenced ears thought they overheard you call me cold like ice.”

“I did say that.”

“You think I’m prickly and cold?”

“I don’t. I do, however, think you’re fun to tease. Your face is so red right now. I feel a little guilty about that.”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. A squeak escaping.

“What was that? Do you want to say it again for emphasis?” she asked, along with an arch of her right brow, the expressive one. I knew it well. Oh, she was enjoying this a great deal.

“You talk a lot. Are you ready to go to the beach or not?”

Kyle relaxed into a lazy grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”