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)
“What’s my other choice?”
“Find another hospital,” he says.
My jaw tightens. The audacity of him—of them—to tell me that I have to jump through their hoops or find another hospital, like it’s as simple as changing clothes. This is the best facility in Colorado, a top hospital in the country with state-of-the-art equipment. I trained here, practiced here.
“Is that a threat, Roger?” I ask, my voice low.
“It’s not a threat,” Dr. Stanich says calmly. “It’s your choice.”
“Your free will, Dr. Lansing,” Dr. Frohike adds.
“Dr. Lansing,” Dr. Stanich says. “This isn’t about punishing you. It’s about making sure that we’re acting in your best interest.”
I scoff at his words. My best interest. As if any of them could truly understand what that is.
“One shrink couldn’t help me.” I glare at Dr. Morgan. “What makes you think another one can?”
Dr. Steel folds her hands on the table before her, those bright-green eyes of hers meeting mine. “There are no guarantees, Dr. Lansing,” she says, her voice calm. “And I am not here to ‘help’ you in the general sense of the word. I’m here to make an assessment, nothing more.”
“Your opinion could block my surgery,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Only if I believe it’s not in your best interest,” she replies.
My best interest—that seems to be today’s catchphrase.
I look at each face around the table, one by one. They’re not individuals to me. They’re a tribunal passing judgment.
“I’ll tell you what’s in my best interest.” I stand abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “My best interest is reclaiming my life, my career—whatever remains of it.”
“And what if you can’t?” Dr. Steel’s words slice through the tension in the room, her tone still even. “What if, despite your surgeon’s best efforts, the surgery fails? Can you handle that?”
“Are you implying that I’m too weak to handle failure?” I snap back.
“No,” she answers calmly. “I’m asking if you’re prepared for it.”
“Preparation has nothing to do with it,” I scoff. “None of us is ever truly prepared for anything.”
“Perhaps,” she concedes. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. And that’s all we’re asking of you, Dr. Lansing. To try.”
I ball my hands into fists. The arrogance of these people, thinking they can tell me what’s best for me.
“I don’t need to try.” I scowl. “I am ready. Completely and utterly ready.”
Dr. Steel leans back in her chair, studying me with her thoughtful green eyes. “Are you ready to live with the possible consequences, though? If it fails, if it causes more harm? Can you handle that?”
I grit my teeth and hold her gaze. “I’m not afraid of the consequences.”
A silence descends upon the room, heavy and thick.
Peter clears his throat, breaking the tension. “Dr. Lansing, we understand how desperate you are for a second chance, but desperation can cloud judgment.”
I shoot him a nasty look. “Are you implying that my judgment is impaired?”
“No one’s implying anything,” Dr. Frohike interjects. “These are just precautions we have to take to ensure everyone’s safety.”
“Everyone’s safety,” I echo mockingly, “or the hospital’s reputation?”
“That is not fair, Jason,” Peter retorts, a harsh edge to his voice. “This is not about our reputation. This is about you, your health, and your well-being.”
“Is it?” I shoot back, my blood boiling at their condescension. “Or is it just another way to cover your backs? Just in case the ‘world-renowned surgeon’ fails?”
“Dr. Lansing,” Dr. Steel says, her tone still annoyingly diplomatic, “nobody here doubts the strength of your resolve or your right to pursue this procedure. And we certainly don’t doubt Dr. Patel’s skills. We are merely trying to ensure that you take the step with an understanding of all possible outcomes.”
“You think I haven’t thought about the possibilities?” I snap back.
“I’m sure you have,” she replies calmly. “But have you truly prepared yourself for them? Even the worst ones?”
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to still the whirlpool of emotions threatening to spill over. “I’ve lived with the worst outcomes already,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “I lost my family, my career is in shambles, and every day is a constant reminder of what I used to be.” I meet Dr. Morgan’s gaze with daggers in my eyes. “You were supposed to help my wife. And she killed herself. She’s dead because of you. And I won’t leave my fate in another psychiatrist’s hands.”
I walk out of the room, rage boiling inside me.
And I know exactly where I need to go.
Chapter Thirty-One
Angie
I’m immersing myself in my psychiatry textbook when—
I jerk.
Someone is pounding on my door. Tillie starts yapping.
I rise, leaving my book on the couch, and walk to the door. When I look through the peephole, my heart lurches.
Jason.
He’s wearing his leather jacket, his hair is mussed, and he has a crazed look in his eyes.
His gorgeous green eyes that I can’t resist.