Page 38 of The Ampersand Effect

“Why?” The defiance in Grier’s voice was clear, but Tobin could swear she sensed something buried beneath it—a flicker of concern.No, she told herself. She’s a doctor, and a good one based on everything people said at the gala. Of course she’d want to know why someone’s asking if she has a treatment table. It’s her nature.

“I… uh… I slipped a couple hours ago.” “Details, Tobin. Spit it out.”

There it was again—her name on Grier’s lips. Exasperated, edged with defiance, but it was her name. Tobin’s stomach performed a series of Olympic-worthy flips, adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was an entirely different rush than the one the same chemicals caused after her fall.

“I volunteer for a dog rescue. We had a big transfer today, and I was unloading the last kennel when I slipped on the wet bath floor. My legs did some incomprehensible acrobatics, and I landed on my ass with searing pain down my left leg. I know I pissed off my old compression fracture. I thought muscle relaxers and an Epsom salt bath would help, but I still can’t bear weight, and the pain hasn’t improved. I… I wouldn’t have called, but, I need…”

You. The unspoken truth sat on her tongue, heavy and immovable.

“Is the dog okay?”

Grier’s radiant concern carried clearly through the phone. “What?” Air rushed from Tobin’s lungs—then, unexpectedly, shelaughed. A wave of relief washed over her shoulders, and she felt a featherlight reduction in her tension. Grier’s preoccupation with the dog’s welfare was endearing, her gentle compassion a welcome distraction from the pain.

She chuckled, then audibly sucked in a sharp breath as the laughter triggered another spasm—searing pain racing down her leg. So much for comedic relief. This spasm was hell-bent on incapacitating all attempts at feelings that didn’t directly center around it.

“Never mind. Have you even been adjusted before?”

Tobin could sense the hesitance in Grier’s voice—a tug-of-war between obvious concern and reserved self-preservation. Again, she was reminded of the fact that she was the cause of this blatant conflict of emotion. She despised herself for causing Grier’s obvious change in character; Tobin didn’t have to guess that this was not Grier’s natural response, favoring obvious compassion when unencumbered by a hurting heart.

“No,” Tobin said, the word catching in her throat. “I just thought… well, you helped my arm so much, and I was kind of hoping you might be able to do the same for my back. I don’t even know if that’s how it works.”

She was losing what little confidence she had. This was a stupid decision. Why had she let Harrow talk her into this? The pain was debilitating, obviously—but she could’ve gone to the ED, or a walk-in clinic. Hell, she could’ve found a chiropractor with weekend hours who didn’t make her heart ache every time she spoke.

Tobin sighed to herself. She had to own her actions—and she knew this call was more aboutwhoshe was calling thanwhy. She wanted to see Grier again. The pull of attraction was constant, a low, insistent tug trying to draw them back together. It was selfish, knowing she couldn’t offer Grier any real hope of something lasting. She knew she wasn’t going to change hermind—she stood by her decision to not pursue a relationship when she needed to focus on a baby. But her heart didn’t understand that. And it didn’t make it any easier to cut her out.

“This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have called. I’ll go to urgent care. Goodni—”

“Stop.” Grier’s voice cut through, steady, but cool. “Urgent care is just going to medicate you.

Tobin could hear the wall she’d built between them. Guarding herself fromher.

“I’ll drop you a pin,” Grier continued. “Can you even drive?” “I shouldn’t, not after the muscle relaxers,” Tobin admitted.

“My sister Harrow can drive me. Is that okay?” “See you soon.”

The line went dead.

“This was a bad idea,” Tobin grumbled, gripping the comforter tightly on either side of her.

“She said yes?” Harrow asked, leaning against the dresser. “Reluctantly,” Tobin reported, an edge of concern in her voice.

“I should call her back—call this off. It’s a bad idea.” “Tobin, you can’t walk on your own.”

“We both know that I could’ve gone to anyone open tomorrow. But, I calledher. After hours. On a weekend. And I obviously interrupted something—I could hear people in the background. I hurt her, Harrow. And now I’m asking for favors. Who does that? I’m surprised she even took my call.”

“You called because you’re in pain, and she has history of helping you reduce pain.” Harrow’s tone was gentle but firm. “Seeing her is more productive than getting medication at a clinic or the ED. And, she’s clearly a really good person. Maybe you didn’t hurt her as much as you think you did. Maybe this is an opportunity to talk?”

“Talking won’t change anything. I can’t be in a relationship right now. I have more pressing things to focus on.” Tobinstiffened where she sat, her back tightening in protest. She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.

To her surprise, Harrow didn’t argue. “Come on, then.” She moved to help Tobin off the bed. “Let’s get moving so she can get on with her night.”

Harrow parked Tobin’s SUV along the curb beside the house. It was a charming two-story Victorian with a turret crowned by bay windows on both floors. The neighborhood was quiet, streetlights pooling soft amber light over manicured lawns. Through glowing windows, the silhouettes of neighbors flicked in and out of sight, lives unfolding in parallel.

Tobin watched as Harrow came around to the passenger door without a word. Together, they followed the illuminated walkway toward the porch. Music and laughter emanated through the walls, warm and easy.

At the top of three steps, Tobin hesitated. Through the open curtains, she caught sight of Grier in the throes of laughter—eyes closed, head tilted back, dancing with Delta, Grant and a woman she didn’t recognize. A dog darted between them, barking and spinning in joyful chaos.

And Tobin hated how much she wanted to share in her joy, to be a part of her happiness.