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)
“You should know up front that this wouldn’t be cheap,” Louisa continues.
“There’s always a catch,” I say. “But I have money, Louisa. And what I don’t have, I’ll get.”
“You’ll have to stay local during rehabilitation. You’d have to take a sabbatical from your teaching.”
I’m ready to agree now, but that’s not what Louisa wants to hear. She wants to make sure I know what I’m agreeing to, that I’m not jumping in headfirst when the best psychiatrist in Colorado just told me to take more time.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally say, my voice hoarse with raw emotion.
“You do that,” Louisa says. “Gita and I are in your corner, and so is Peter.”
“Peter said that?”
“Not in so many words, but this psychiatric assessment wasn’t his idea. It was the board’s.”
Of course it was.
“I understand. I’ll be in touch.”
“Good. Enjoy the rest of the weekend.”
The weekend is pretty much over, and I spent it being psychoanalyzed.
When the call ends, I stare blankly at my phone’s screen.
Could this be it?
Could this be the silver lining I was waiting for?
But Switzerland…
I love that place, and I always wanted to take Lindsay there. I promised her an amazing trip filled with chocolate, skiing, and those breathtaking views of the Alps. I pictured us wandering through quaint villages, hand in hand, sampling fondue in cozy little cafés, and laughing as we tumbled in the snow. It was going to be perfect—just us, away from everything, living in the moment.
But life had other plans. Cruel plans.
Perhaps Switzerland is what will save me. Give me hope.
Hope…
The thought buzzes in my brain long after I’ve drained the last drop of bourbon from my glass.
I have money.
I have what’s left of the life insurance proceeds from Julia’s death.
I didn’t get anything when Lindsay died since her life insurance policy had a suicide clause.
Is it enough?
I could also wait it out. Do the therapy that Dr. Steel requires and see if I can convince the therapist that I’ve got good enough coping mechanisms and support in case of a negative outcome.
But the thought of therapy, of rehashing old wounds and bringing all my demons out in the open again…
It’s too much to bear.
I slug down another shot, the burn of the bourbon providing a temporary distraction from the turmoil in my mind. I glance at the photo on the table beside me—Julia and Lindsay, their smiles frozen in time. A reminder of what I’ve lost, what I’ll never have again.
I drag myself off the couch and walk over to my front window, gazing out at pine trees dusted with snow.
“Damn it,” I mutter to myself, rubbing my temples. Thank God I don’t have any classes on Mondays. I’m a freaking mess.
The phone rings again, and I have half a mind to ignore it. But when I see Louisa’s name flash on the screen, I pick up without thinking.
“Jason?”
“Yes?” My voice sounds rough even to my ears, heavy with unshed tears.
“You need to know something else,” she says in a rush. “About the center in Switzerland.”
“What?” I ask, bracing myself for another blow.
“Gita thinks you’re a great candidate…but apparently I was wrong about the timing. The facility has an unexpected opening, and one of Gita’s assistants thinks he’s found a cadaver nerve that would be a match. She needs your decision by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I echo, my voice choked in disbelief. “How the hell am I supposed to decide by tomorrow?”
“I know it’s difficult,” Louisa says, her voice gentle in my ear. “But this may be the only chance you get, Jason.”
I stand silent, my breath hitching as I process her words.
“So if I say yes,” I begin slowly, “I’d have to leave when?”
“As soon as possible. Gita suggests within the next week.”
“A week…” I repeat, staring blankly out the window.
A week to arrange a leave of absence, and if that’s not possible, to quit my position at the medical school. A week to leave everything behind and take a leap of faith into the unknown.
A week.
That’s it.
“Yes. Look, Jason,” Louisa says. “I know it’s not ideal. But sometimes life doesn’t give us perfect choices.”
I hold back a scoff. If anyone knows the truth of that statement, I do.
To leave my teaching position, at least for the remainder of this semester.
To leave…
Fuck.
To leave Angie.
Angie.
But I’ll be back. And I won’t need my teaching position if I’m a surgeon again.
To hold the scalpel back in my hand… To be a healer again…
“I’ll do it,” I say. “Tell Gita I’m in. I have money, and if it’s more than I have, I’ll get it somehow. I’ll take out a loan. A mortgage on my home. I’ll make it work.”
“Good enough,” Louisa says. “I’ll email you the details tomorrow. In the meantime, get a flight booked to Bern.”
“I will.”
As soon as I end the call, I grab my leather jacket and walk over to Angie’s where I pound on the door.