Page 57 of The Ampersand Effect

She heard Haleigh hesitate before replying. “Yes—cautious optimism is welcome right now. I’m hesitant to offer much morehope beyond this week, given how quickly his tumor grew. But for now, it appears we’ve contained it.”

“You still think he’s going to lose the leg?” Grier asked, her fragile bubble of hope already deflating.

Haleigh sighed. “Yes, unfortunately. I do think the tumor will reactivate—Ewing’s typically does. I pray we can stop it at the hip, but I’m always skeptical of these fast-growing cases that suddenly seem to enter remission.” She paused. “For now, though, there’s no reason to keep him here. He should go home, and live as much of a healthy boyhood as he can.”

Grier’s mood subdued with Haleigh’s last comment. She knew Ewing’s was a touchy cancer, but she’d been so hopeful that Jonah might beat the odds. She wanted to see him grow into the young man he promised to be. She wanted him to fly.

She cleared her throat, constricted with emotion. “What about Vanders? Has he weighed in?”

“Of course he had—and you know it’s not in agreement. But I don’t play his games. Despite his… seniority, Dr. Miles and I agree that Jonah should be discharged. Oncology has already signed off.”

Grier knew the chief of surgery had the final say in any disputes between his surgeons, and Dr. Miles was rarely deterred from his opinion.

“Ah, I’m glad the chief is on the same page.” Grier found some footing, knowing Jonah got at least this one chance to experience more of his childhood beyond the sterile walls of Aetheridge Children’s Hospital.

“Agreed.”

“Thanks, Haleigh. I appreciate your thoughts on this.” “Anytime, Grier. Have a good day.”

During her working lunch break that afternoon, Grier picked at a salad at her desk while charting her morning treatments when Maren knocked on the open door.

“I’ve decided you need to adopt me, because I’m having serious Grier withdrawals.” Maren approached Grier for a quick side hug before lounging comfortably in one of the guest chairs.

Grier smiled at her friend, but felt herself remain emotionally distant. She hadn’t spoken to Maren during her time away from the hospital, and hadn’t updated either her or Alix on the latest developments with Tobin. She’d made a conscious effort to stay present with her family for the remainder of Grove’s visit and had successfully pushed most thoughts of Tobin aside that morning. But thoughts inevitably drifted to the captain in her quieter moments.

“I missed you, too.” She wasn’t deliberately withholding from Maren, but she was trying to prevent hyperfixating on the situation. She knew if either Maren or Alix found out about Tobin’s injury and subsequent in-home treatment—their kiss—there’d be no reprieve from the questions or cajoling.

She caught Maren studying her, eyes narrowing to focus on Grier.Shit. Who was she kidding. Maren had radar for these things. Grier felt heat creep up her neck under that knowing gaze. She tried to preempt Maren.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” She coughed on a piece of lettuce that had stubbornly adhered to her soft palate like a piece of duct tape, then reached for some water, hoping it would calm her before Maren launched her inevitable emotional dissection.

She watched through watered eyes as Maren pinched her lips and furrowed her brows. Their eyes locked, and Maren remained silent, drawing her out without a word.

“Really. I’m fine.” Grier kept her stare, refusing to blink, determined to win this standoff.

Maren didn’t waver. It felt like an interrogation. Maren was short, not even remotely threatening, with kind hazel eyes and smile lines far too deep for her age, but which highlighted her kindhearted demeanor and instantly softened most people toher. She was as much a counselor as she was massage therapist, and her wise advice was always genuine, always astute, and always prudent. Sitting across from her patient, worried, and imploring gaze took every ounce of Grier’s resolve.

She cracked.

She let her shoulders sink, making herself smaller, and hung her head so she didn’t have to see Maren’s face when she blurted, “We kissed.”

Silence. Not even the sound of shifting clothes. Grier looked up. Maren’s expression had changed, softened. Her hazel eyes twinkled with an undercurrent of excitement, but her brow edged into concern. She tilted her head with gentle understanding, as if she could name every unspoken emotion thrashing inside Grier’s chest.

Finally, Maren broke her silence. “Your body is making your next move easy. Why are you fighting it, honey?”

Grier blinked, confused, and remained silent, waiting for Maren to explain.

“You didn’t immediately seek me out to talk this morning, even though we haven’t seen each other in days. I’m not certain if that was a deliberate avoidance or an unintentional oversight, but it’s clear you’re holding this close to your heart. Which means that whatever’s brewing between you two is more than just a physical connection. You want the sex, that’s obvious—but you also want more.”

Grier shifted her eyes to the ceiling, reflecting on Maren’s summation.

“Why are you fighting it, honey?” Maren repeated, her voice softer now.

Grier lowered her head to meet Maren’s eyes. She pulled the corner of her mouth into a half-hearted smile and shrugged. “She seems uncertain. Unsure of herself. Of me.”

“And you don’t want to push?”

“Oh, I very much want to push—right up against a wall.” Grier let that visual flicker through her mind before she shook it off. “But, you’re right. I think you’re exactly right. We both feel the spark—it’s undeniable. The initial attraction inspired such fiery flirtations— ones I think we both very much want to act on. But I know I also feel the tendrils of something deeper, an undercurrent that keeps whisperingmore. And I think she’s been hurt before. Or something is scaring her—she said as much at the gala. And that same little voice is telling me to be patient—to let her come to me.”