Hotshot Doc(85)

He jerks up straight and glances at me over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just couldn’t sleep.”

He reaches back and finds the hand I extend out for him. Something doesn’t feel right. I’ve never suspected him of lying to me, but I swear he’s not being honest now.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to get you some water or something?”

“No, I don’t need anything.” He shifts and crawls back under the blankets to get to me.

I’m greedy for his warmth and I tuck myself right beside him. It’s my favorite spot.

“It seems like you’ve had a lot on your mind the last few days,” I venture, brushing my finger back and forth against his chest.

He sighs. “I’m supposed to hear back about that grant any day now. That’s what’s been on my mind.”

Of course! I should have realized. I heard him talking about it with his parents on Christmas Day, but I was too far away to catch much of the conversation.

Relief rushes through me. I was really worried he was having reservations about us.

“That’s exciting, Matt. Will you tell me about it?”

His arm wraps around me and he draws me even closer. “Sure. In the morning. We should get to sleep.”

That conversation never happens though. The next day Matt has to head up to the hospital early, and by the time he gets back to my house, I’ve finished making lasagna and Josie ushers him straight to the table she’s set. Then, she proceeds to dominate most of the dinner conversation, and I don’t mind because I’m busy watching them. They have an easygoing relationship. He seems so relaxed around her, as if he can’t help but smile at her ridiculous take on life. After we finish eating, Matt offers to do the dishes—and by offers, I mean he forcibly removes me from the kitchen.

One day rolls into the next and the grant is the last thing on my mind.

We settle into a happy pattern, one I could easily get used to. Matt and I operate together three days a week and he stays over at my house most nights. We share my tiny twin bed and his cuddle habits grow more out of control. Soon, I’ll have to build a pillow fort between us just to get some sleep. I secretly love it.

I cook him and Josie dinner most nights, or when we have a late surgery, we opt for takeout. Matt insists on paying for groceries since he’s the one eating most of the food. Tuna is a thing of the past, and I couldn’t be more grateful. We watch movies with Josie on the weekends and sneak out for a date night here and there, usually just hightailing it over to his house so we can have sex without fear that Josie will walk in on us. Also, I take full advantage of his washer and dryer. While our clothes tumble dry, we tumble right back into bed.

It’s the best month I can remember, weeks so jam-packed with happiness I completely forget about the grant until I arrive at work one Monday and find half the hospital standing outside Matt’s office, clambering to get inside.

There are balloons tied to the door handle and laughter spilling out into the hall. I can’t get within ten feet. I can’t even see inside to try to decipher what could possibly be going on.

At first, I assume this is all excitement about June because she took a few steps on her own in physical therapy the other day, though that doesn’t make sense because this is way too over the top.

Someone nudges their way through the crowd with a cake that says, Congratulations! Another person shouts, “Dr. Russell, you’re the man!”

I spot Erika hovering at the back of the crowd, pressing up on her toes to try to see into his office. I head in her direction and ask what’s going on.

She turns and her eyes widen. Her hands grip my shoulders and she shakes me back and forth. My brain rattles in my head. “Oh my god! I can’t believe he got it!”

“Got what?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“The MacArthur Grant!”

OH MY GOD!

My hand covers my mouth in excitement. I can’t believe it! He’s probably freaking out! Look at all these people here to celebrate with him. I’ve never even heard of the MacArthur Grant but it sounds fancy as hell.

“That’s amazing!”

“I know! Apparently, he was awarded full funding for his spine clinic in Costa Rica! Isn’t that insane?! Wait.” She shakes her head and laughs. “Why am I telling you this?”

Wait. WHAT?!

Spine clinic?

Costa Rica?!

I blink and try to make sense of what she could possibly mean. Costa Rica—is that a fancy suburb of Boston or something? Surely she isn’t referring to the country a million miles away from where I currently stand.

“It’s so crazy! I can’t believe you kept the secret too,” she continues. “None of us even knew he was in the running for it until this morning when we found out he won. I bet he’s been a nervous wreck.”

I laugh half-heartedly. “Oh, yeah. Super nervous.”

Her brows furrow and she tilts her head, studying me. “Did he not tell you he won?”

I shake my head infinitesimally and then admit the sad truth. “No. I mean, we haven’t talked this morning…”

He didn’t tell me he won. He didn’t tell me anything about the grant or the spine clinic or what that could possibly mean for us. I mean, I knew he was waiting to hear back about a grant, but I thought it would just be money that could go toward more pro bono work here, or, I don’t know, more chocolate fountains in the doctors’ lounge. I had no idea he was trying to open a clinic in another country.