A Brush with Love(76)

When she’d finally cried herself to exhaustion, exposed herself to her messiest core, her body relaxed. She felt afraid of what he thought, ashamed at her weaknesses, her shortcomings. But she also felt nurtured. Protected.

Neither of them said anything. Harper doubted they would. She’d propelled all that tangled emotion into the world, onto someone else, and she didn’t want to unravel it.

So instead, she gently drifted off to sleep in the comforting nest of his arms.





CHAPTER 29





HARPER

“Dr. Horowitz!”

Harper catapulted out of her Dan-drenched daydream and landed firmly in the middle of the surgery she was assisting Dr. Ren and a resident on. Harper absorbed Dr. Ren’s disapproving look and panicked, moving to suction the patient’s socket with gusto.

“What are you doing?” Dr. Ren said calmly, grabbing the tip of the suction and moving it away in the universal dental school signal that said, You really fucked up your one job, huh?

Harper looked down. She’d accidently suctioned up half the bone graft Dr. Ren had placed.

“I’m so sorry,” Harper said, taking a step back. Dr. Ren gave her a sharp, warning glance to not act alarmed in front of the patient, who’s wide eyes had swiveled to look at Harper with fear.

“I’ll get more,” Harper said, scrambling toward the cupboard.

“Not with your gloves!” Dr. Ren scolded as Harper almost compromised the sterile cupboard environment.

Harper wrestled the tight rubber off her sweaty hands, panic humming in her chest as she grabbed more grafting material and handed it to the resident.

Dr. Ren eyed her for a moment before quickly repacking the material. She turned to the resident. “Dr. Wiles, I’m going to have you suture up the patient. I’ll meet you both in post-op.” The woman nodded and moved to replace them.

“Come with me.”

Harper and Dr. Ren stripped off their isolation gowns, then exited the operatory. Harper followed Dr. Ren into the hall, a steady thrum of dread beating in her ears. How could she be so stupid? How could she take her surgical privileges for granted, daydreaming like a lovesick teenager?

A cold sweat pricked at her skin, and Harper pulled at the neck of her scrub top as she followed Dr. Ren to her office, trying to anticipate what her reprimand would be.

“Please shut the door.”

Harper did as she was told and turned slowly to face her mentor. Dr. Ren gave Harper an appraising glance, her eyes softening at what must have been unfettered fear on Harper’s face.

“Harper, take a deep breath. You look like you’re meeting your executioner.”

Harper let out a nervous laugh and her fingers plucked restlessly at her scrub pants. “That’s kind of what it feels like.”

“Not today. Please take a seat.” Harper collapsed into the chair opposite Dr. Ren’s desk and waited.

“I know the last semester of school makes it incredibly hard to focus.” Harper opened her mouth to protest, but Dr. Ren held up a hand to silence her. “If anyone deserves a little slack, it’s you. All I ask is that you keep focused during procedures. Vigilance is key. You know that.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Ren, it won’t happen again. I’m ashamed of myself.”

Dr. Ren let out a quiet laugh. “There’s no need to be dramatic. It happens.”

Harper’s pulse hammered in her palms.

It doesn’t happen to you. It’s never supposed to happen to you. How could you drop your focus? Cruel words continued to hum through her mind, making her want to run.

“Harper?”

“Sorry, what?” She realized she’d missed something in the conversation.

Dr. Ren’s eyes bore into Harper, making her fidget. “I mean it. Let it go.”

Harper nodded, wishing it were that simple. She knew what was coming. The shame and anxiety would build and build and build until it felt like it would swallow her whole. It would ricochet around in her body until she felt empty. Useless. Spent.

“Thank you, Dr. Ren.”

Dr. Ren smiled and excused Harper with a wave of her hand. Harper left the office and made her way out of the building, trying to shake off the feelings clawing at her stomach.

Dan was waiting for her at the street corner, ready to walk her home. He beamed at her, but the anxiety must still have lined her face because his expression quickly turned into a frown.

“What’s wrong?” He pulled her in for a tight hug, one hand cradling the back of her head while she burrowed her face into his chest, breathing him in.

He was like a charging port she could plug into. The fist in her chest eased a bit, calmness permeating from him into her. She let out a sigh and pulled away.

“Nothing, just a long day.” Despite her moment of honesty in those early morning hours, she still felt anything but comfortable describing just how much her anxiety ate her up. It felt too real, too abnormal to say in the light of day.

Dan laced his fingers through hers and placed their hands in his coat pocket, shielding their skin from the cold.

They started walking, and he pressed their joined hands closer to his body and rubbed teasing circles against her palm with his thumb. They kept up a steady stream of chitchat—her day, his, another week of shitty weather—and the rumble of his voice smoothed over her frazzled nerves, the worries evaporating from her skin. Harper still didn’t know the language of her feelings, but she was learning not to fight them.