That Thing Between Eli and Gwen(49)
I handed her to a dark-skinned doctor with glasses. “We will take her to get her labs done, and then she’ll be back in her room,” he said as the trio escorted her away.
Her father—Toby, I now remembered—stood wringing his hands, watching her go. “I know this is a very dumb question, but are you all right?” I asked.
He picked up his head some, turning.
His blank look was like he'd forgotten I was there, which was understandable.
“My daughter called me a liar, and she is in pain. I’m the furthest thing from all right.” He put his hand over his face and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to dump that on you.”
“It’s okay, I said it was a dumb question. You look like you need a mental break. Would you like to sit with me? You're Toby Wesley, right? From my building?”
“Oh, that's why you look familiar. Yes. Ms. Poe, correct?” He followed me to sit in the chairs by the wall. “Is this your work station?” He glanced over at the light sketching on the wall.
“Yes. I officially started on it today.” I leaned back in my chair and followed his gaze. My sketch was pretty hard to see with the naked eye, so I wasn’t worried about anyone figuring it out yet. When the paint came in, that’s when the screen was going to have to go up.
“What's it going to be?”
“It’s a secret for now. Which reminds me, do you have a photo of your wife? Is she here as well, so I can work on Molly's painting?”
He sat taller in the chair, not looking at me. “She passed. It’s all right, you're busy. I wouldn’t want her to—”
“Mr. Wesley, if there is anything I would hate to be called, it’s a liar. I promised her a painting. I have to give her one before the week is out, or else that’s what I would be.”
He glanced back, a small smile on his lips, before pulling out his wallet and handing me a worn photo. “If it’s not good enough—”
“It’s fine.” I brought out my phone and snapped a photo of it. I didn’t want to take it from him.
“Mr. Wesley?”
I turned, and there was Eli in his blue scrubs and white coat, holding a large cup in one hand.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Dr. Davenport. Molly ran off, but we found her. I’m going to head back to her room now and wait with her, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. I’ll be there momentarily.”
Toby nodded and turned back to me. “Thank you again.”
“Any time.” I stood when he walked away and turned to Eli, who also watched him go.
“Nothing was going on,” I said quickly.
He turned back to me, eyebrow lifted.
“I found Molly. Well, Molly found me, and I promised her a painting—”
“Why are you explaining this to me?” He looked completely confused, stepping up to me.
“I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea and get upset—”
“You’re doing it again. I’m not sure if you realize it, but you are basing what you think my reaction will be on what Sebastian's was.” He sighed, taking my hand and giving me the cup.
He was right, and I hadn’t even thought about it. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m just going to have to work harder to make sure you see the clear difference between him and me.” He smirked, nodding to the drink in my hand. “It’s hot vanilla. Since you can’t drink coffee, I wasn’t sure what to bring you.”
“You didn’t have to bring anything, but thank you.”
“I know, but if I didn’t, what excuse was I going to use to come see you?”
Smiling, I took a sip, and my eyes about popped out of my head. “This is really good.”
“Good to know. I have to head back. See you later?” he said, partially turned.
Taking his arm, I stopped him from going any farther by kissing his cheek. “Thanks.”
“You're welcome. And I’m just going to be honest: your ex sounds like one hell of a douchebag.” He waved, walking away.
When he was gone, I sat again and couldn’t help but wonder if all guys were really like Eli. Sebastian was the only man I had ever seriously dated. When he got jealous over me speaking to other guys, I just thought he was worried about losing me. When he said he didn’t want people at work to know we were going out, I thought it was because he was worried I would be looked down on for dating the boss. The more I thought about the situation, the more it felt like I should have never stayed with him. But hindsight was always twenty-twenty, and it had been hard to see the flaws when I was always staring at him through rose-colored glasses.