“How dare you tell me what would make me happy! You don’t know anything about it. I love surgery,” she said inanely in a shaky voice, bottom lip trembling.
He had no idea how to fix this when he wasn’t even sure what he’d done wrong beyond the fact that he should have spoken to her first about it. But they had created a problem together, and he and Tim had taken steps to fix it. She wasn’t being reasonable.
So he just kept focusing on the obvious, not sure what else to do. “You don’t love surgery. You hate it. I’ve watched you.
I worked with you every day for three months. You love medicine, yes, but not surgery. You pursued it because your father wanted you to, exactly like you told me. Maybe pediatrics will be a better match for you.”
“That is none of your business and totally irrelevant to what we’re discussing. Knowing about my father didn’t give you the right to make that decision for me.”
“I wasn’t making the decision for you.” Well, maybe he had. “But there wasn’t a choice. For both of our careers, I had to do this.”
“How can you do that? Compartmentalize like that? Separate totally, knowing what you were doing would hurt me. You warned me, and I didn’t believe you. You’re much, much colder than I ever gave you credit for.”
And that very iciness she accused him of settled over him as a frozen shield. Her words tore inside him, and he shrugged in a protective gesture. Hurt before you’re hurt. That’s what he knewhow to do and it was fucked up and he knew it and he still did it anyway.
“You didn’t seem to think I was cold yesterday when you were in my bed.”
Her finger came up and there was a firmness to her voice he’d never heard. “Don’t do that, Houston. Don’t turn this back to sex. I will not tolerate that.”
She was right. But he didn’t know what to say. He needed Josie in his life and didn’t want to lose her when he’d just found her, but how could he agree with her when he’d suggest a transfer for her all over again?
“As a man, not a surgeon, I want you to be happy. As a surgeon, and a colleague, I want to protect you. Can’t you see that?”
“Happy? What do you know about my happiness?”
He dropped his arms to his sides when she rebuffed his touch again. “I know that you’re not happy. I know that every day I look at you and wonder how you can’t see what I do. That you have all these choices and the ability to do exactly what you want to do, yet you pound away at something you don’t like. But this wasn’t about happiness, this was about keeping your career intact.”
From his perspective, he couldn’t imagine having a choice and choosing to do what you didn’t enjoy. But if Josie wanted to be a surgeon, he’d do whatever it took to ensure she became one. He waved his right hand in the air in front of her and gave her a small smile.
“I have no choices right now. I can’t do what I love. And to watch you struggling through each day, it makes me unbelievably sad for you. And downright envious for me.”
He’d gotten a reaction. The anger fell away from her face. Josie chewed her lips for a second, then took a deep breath. “Did you do this to hurt me?”
“No, of course not. The opposite, in fact.”
“Do you want a long-term relationship with me?”
The very words made his chest feel tight. That’s what he wanted, he did, but hearing her say it like that, so final, so serious, so angry with him, he panicked. He wasn’t good enough for her, he couldn’t be what she needed. One day at a time, that’s what he wanted. To enjoy being with Josie and not planning, thinking, worrying about the future.
“I’m not very good at relationships, and I’m facing the hardest time in my life. Right now I’m…disabled.”
Just saying the word made him cringe. But when you couldn’t drive and couldn’t write, he wasn’t sure what else to call it.
Josie didn’t show any sympathy. She huffed, blowing her bangs out of her face. “So your hand isn’t fully functional yet. So what? You’re also a control freak. And I’m verbally impulsive and clumsy. We all have faults, Houston.”
This wasn’t a fault. It was a potentially permanent impairment. “It’s not the same thing.”
Josie was losing him. He had already drifted, distanced himself, pulled away from her. And she couldn’t do this anymore. Her heart was shattering.
There was only one reason she would stay.
“Just tell me, Houston, honestly. Do you love me?” she whispered, hoping against hope he’d give the answer she wanted.
His face tensed. His shoulders went rigid. His jaw worked. And while his eyes spoke volumes, showing care and concern, his mouth didn’t move. Not one word.
She gave him a good long moment to speak, then she turned in defeat, biting her lips to hold back a sob.
A sigh did escape as she took a step towards the door. “I’ll be starting at St. John’s on Monday. I hope your hand heals.”