Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
The brass plaque stares at me.
Dr. Jason Lansing, Professor of Anatomy
It may as well say Dr. Jason Lansing, once an up-and-coming general surgeon.
Dr. Jason Lansing, who may not get the surgery he needs because he’s a fucked-up mess.
Dr. Jason Lansing…who may be falling in love with a student.
I unlock the door to my office, walk in, and fall into the first chair across from my desk.
The walls seem to pulse. My undergrad degree, my medical degree. They all seem to laugh at me in a dark way as they close in on me.
I clutch the armrests of my chair, my knuckles whitening. The walls of my office are closing in on me now, the multitude of degrees and honors that once signaled a promising career now taking on an ominous, mocking tone.
Dr. Jason Lansing, a man who had everything, only to lose it all.
Dr. Jason Lansing, a brilliant mind wasted on a broken body.
Nausea travels up my throat as I stare at the surgical diplomas lining the walls. They symbolize everything I’m supposed to be. Everything I should be.
Dr. Jason Lansing, hopelessly, pathetically in love with a student.
No.
Won’t go there.
Can’t go there.
I’m not in love with Angie Simpson.
Love isn’t sex. Love isn’t easing loneliness.
I drag my gaze away from the damning degrees and let out a bitter chuckle. The future. A concept that once held promise and potential now holds nothing but uncertainty. The ghost of my past clings around me, haunting every corner of my office with chilling whispers of what might have been.
Three years earlier…
This is the worst day of my life.
Except it’s not.
I’ve had so many worst days that I’ve lost count.
Losing Julia.
Finding out I’ll never operate again.
And today…
My wife lies in the bathtub upstairs in our master bathroom.
Blood all over her.
Her wrists slit.
And I feel…
I feel nothing.
Numbness. Pure numbness.
Oh, the pain will come later. I’m well aware of that.
I’ve been through this before.
I walk over to the desk, the mahogany surface covered with bills and letters yet to be opened. Among the clutter is a solitary envelope—stark white, crisp, untouched. I pick it up, flipping it over to reveal two words on the other side.
To Jason…
She left a note.
I sit down in the leather chair behind the desk, the envelope trembling in my hands. Do I really want to know what’s inside? The last words of a woman who saw no way out but to take her own life?
Inhale, exhale. It’s just another worst day.
I open the envelope and pull out Lindsay’s final goodbye.
I don’t read it.
I can’t read it.
I simply sit, holding the paper, tempted to burn it.
But I don’t. I put it back in the envelope and stuff it in my pocket.
While my wife lies lifeless in our bathroom, blood congealing around her.
I sit in denial.
My breath hitches as a single tear rolls down my cheek, landing with a soft pat on the white paper. I gaze at it blankly, watching as the moisture soaks into the paper.
A sob rips through my throat, raw and jagged. The sound echoes around the room, bouncing off the walls and slicing through the heavy silence. It’s an alien sound, one that doesn’t belong in this office filled with accolades and prestige.
The letter lies forgotten on the desk as I lean back in my seat, staring blankly at the ceiling. The pain, long delayed, breaks free from its confines and washes over me in a relentless tide. It’s crushing, suffocating. I can hardly breathe.
I rise from the chair, the letter fluttering down to the hardwood floor. I pace, back and forth, my own footsteps echoing in time with the ticking of the clock.
Every tick, every tock, a reminder.
A reminder of the numbness that grips me, a deafening silence that fills my ears and clouds my mind. A reminder of Lindsay. Of her laughter, her smile…her lifeless body in our bathroom.
“Damn it!” I rake my fingers through my hair.
I’ve lost everything now.
I’m no longer a promising surgeon.
No longer a devoted father.
No longer a loving husband.
Just Dr. Jason Lansing, a broken man with a broken dream.
And a broken heart.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Angie
Of course I’m meeting Aunt Mel at Flagstaff House, the most lavish restaurant in Boulder.
I’ve been here before, but not for a while, since most of my med school friends—if you can even call them friends—can’t afford this place and probably wouldn’t take kindly to me offering to pay.
I didn’t make any good friends during my first semester. Just kept to myself mostly, and though I was lonely every once in a while, mostly I was just alone.
My entire life was spent as one of the awesome foursome. We were inseparable in high school and in college, where we all pledged the same sorority.
Brianna is now married. Seriously married, and to a rock star, Jesse Pike.
Sage is at home working with our dad, and Gina is pursuing her master’s degree in visual arts.