Page 65 of Theirs to Desire (Club M: Boxed Set)

KAI

“ D on’t sugarcoat it, Jayla. Give it to me straight.”

Dr. Jayla Washington is the best neurologist at Georgetown University Hospital and a long-time friend. She watches my cat Betsy when I travel. I’m her daughter Mikaela’s godfather. If I have to find out that I’m never going to be able to cut again, I’d rather hear it from Jayla than anyone else.

I’m a wreck. Between the shock of seeing Avery again and my hand tremors, I haven’t slept a wink all weekend. Thank heavens for caffeine. It’s probably not helping my shakes, but at least I can keep my eyes peeled open.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” She chuckles. “Actually, let me rephrase that before you get a swollen head. There’s plenty wrong with you. Some of the test results will take a few days to come back, but in my professional opinion, you have nothing to worry about.”

I shudder with relief. For a few minutes, I’m filled with so much emotion that I can’t talk. Jayla watches me, her expression sympathetic. Finally, I pull myself together. “What’s the tremor then?”

She puts her arm around my shoulder. “Stress. Shock. Exhaustion. It could be any number of things.”

“But it’s temporary, right?” I persist. “I’ll be back to normal in a week or two?”

“I don’t know.” She gives me her serious look, and I’ve been friends with her long enough to know I’m about to get lectured by her. “Kai, how long has it been since you’ve taken a vacation? You’ve been going non-stop for years. And then your patient died on the table.”

My jaw sets in tight lines. “I don’t want to talk about Melody Simon.”

“Tough shit,” she says bluntly. “Listen to me. You’re stressed.

Her death was a shock. You’re running on fumes, buddy.

The hand tremors could be temporary, but only if you take steps to address the underlying issues.

Take some time off and refill the tank. Get yourself a hobby.

Pottery is supposed to be calming, I hear.

Maybe go on a date or two. Meet a nice woman that you keep around for longer than two weeks.

Do something that isn’t surgery, Kai. Life isn’t all about work. ”

Meet a nice woman that you keep around for longer than two weeks.

An image of Avery swims in front of me. Her green eyes, clouded with need. Her dark hair in damp waves around her face. Her whimper of need.

Jayla’s not done. “When was the last time you had fun, Kai?” she demands. “When was the last time you were happy?”

Saturday night. Watching Avery shudder with pleasure. Watching her come apart for me.

I have to stop thinking about her. Especially after her email to me yesterday.

I should have never gone away with you ten years ago.

I won’t be returning.

“So you’re telling me this is all in my head.” I survey my hands dispassionately. “Next, you’ll be telling me to see a shrink.”

Jayla rolls her eyes. “I don’t need to,” she says. “I’m pretty sure the number one item on Joanna Wadsworth’s to-do list this week is to nag you about it.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” I don’t need a therapist, and I don’t need a vacation either. I just need to get past Melody Simon’s death and get my head back into the game.

As Jayla predicts, Joanna Wadsworth drops by my office Monday afternoon. She gives me a bright smile. “Dr. Bowen,” she says. “How are you?”

I give her a wary look. The hospital administrator is a busy woman. Despite the small talk, this isn’t a social call. “I’m doing okay.”

“You saw Dr. Washington this morning, didn’t you?”

Nothing escapes her. I nod silently.

“And she doesn’t believe there’s an underlying neurological cause for your hand tremors.” She pulls up a seat and steeples her fingers at me.

“The tests haven’t come back yet.”

She fixes me with a steady look. “You’re right, they haven’t. But Dr. Washington’s judgment is impeccable.” She smiles again, and I wait for the other shoe to drop. “I’ve arranged for our doctors to attend a stress management workshop once a week. The first session is on Friday at noon.”

That sounds like hell. Absolute fucking hell.

Every year, the hospital runs some kind of touchy-feely workshop.

Last year, the woman running it had told us to reach inward and touch our chi.

Whatever the fuck that means. “I’m not interested in listening to someone who knows nothing about medicine giving me platitudes about how to manage my stress. ”

The smile disappears off her face, and steel coats her voice. “Your patients need you, Dr. Bowen. I have to do what’s best for them, and for the hospital. The workshop’s not optional.”

Great. Just fucking great.