I stare at my laptop screen, feeling entirely disillusioned. I’ve lost count of the amount of job rejections I’ve received so far. I wasn’t even able to get to the interview stage for any of my applications.
I knew Harold wouldn’t make it easy on me, but I underestimated his influence. I’m starting to fear that he was right, and I’ll never work as a doctor again. I look up and glance at Amara. The way she keeps her eyes on her own laptop combined with her rigid spine tells me she knows I just received another rejection.
She tries to hide her fears and the guilt she feels, but she’s transparent to me. It’s in the way she’s lost in thought so often, the way she looks at me as though she expects me to one day look back at her with regret in my eyes. It’ll never happen. She isn’t to blame for the situation we’re in, but I’m starting to worry.
It’s been six weeks. Six weeks of contacting everyone Harold ever introduced me to in addition to everyone I know in the industry. Six weeks of constant applications and endless rejections. My savings won’t last long, not with mortgage payments and student loan repayments.
Amara is working as hard as she can, but realistically her company won’t be profitable for another year, if she even manages to make her company profitable at all — most companies aren’t in their first year, and we both know it. Harold cut her off, and I know it kills her to have to depend on me. What happens when my savings run out?
I bite down on my lip as I rise to my feet, remembering the one person I haven’t called yet. Dr. Johnson. He’s retired, so I didn’t think of him instantly, but if nothing else, he might have some connections I can reach out to.
Amara looks at me as I walk out of the living room, and I force a smile onto my face. I’m not fooling her, though. She can tell that I’m losing hope, and it’s hitting her harder than it is me.
I stare at the photos in the hallway, my gaze settling on a photo of my father and me. I’m wearing his doctor’s coat, a stethoscope that’s far too big for me around my neck. I must’ve been six years old. Even back then, all I wanted was to follow in my father’s footsteps. I worked my ass off for over a decade to become a general practitioner, nearly giving up multiple times during my residency. I fought through the poverty Aria and I were surrounded by, I fought to stay in school. I won’t give up now.
I sigh as I scroll through my contacts. You’d think it’d get easier after six weeks of this shit, but it doesn’t. I force a smile onto my face as I press dial. I’m not even sure why I do it, but it helps me put myself into polite physician mode, even when I know no one can see me.
“Noah? It’s so good to hear from you,” Dr. Johnson says, and my heart warms at the sound of his voice. I loved working for him, and I genuinely wish he hadn’t sold his practice. But then again, if he hadn’t, I’d never have met Amara.
“Hi, Dr. Johnson. How’s retirement treating you?”
He laughs, and my own smile turns genuine. “It’s boring. I had a whole list of things I’ve always wanted to do, yet somehow I miss working. I miss the patients, the clinic. I miss being a doctor. Never thought I’d say it, but it’s true. Retirement doesn’t suit me at all.”
“You’ll get used to it,” I tell him. He worked long hours right until he sold the clinic, so I can imagine that it’s hard to adjust. It is for me. Being home every day, watching Amara go to school to teach classes and work on her PhD project… it’s hard.
“Enough about me, though. How did things go with you? Where do you work now? I’ve been meaning to follow up with you, but everything got so busy during the handover of the clinic that I kept putting it off. I’m sorry.”
I glance at the photo of my father and me, a sense of loss washing over me. I wonder what he’d tell me today. Would he have any wise advice for me?
“It wasn’t easy to find something, but eventually I got a call from Astor College and they offered me a job thanks to the recommendation you gave them. I’ve been meaning to thank you for that, but life ended up becoming a complete whirlwind shortly after. Unfortunately, that job didn’t end up working out.”
“Astor college?” he repeats, his tone confused. “A recommendation from me? Why would I ever recommend you to a school?”
I pause, startled. “The campus clinic. Didn’t you send them my résumé?”
Dr. Johnson falls silent. “No. I think I’d remember. I was so busy finalizing the sale of the clinic that I didn’t even think to do that. I had no idea you were struggling to find something.”
I frown, confused. They clearly told me they got a recommendation from Dr. Johnson. I remember it clearly. I remember sitting on the sofa in despair, and I remember the hope that phone call gave me.
“I see,” I murmur, feeling like I’m missing something. I suppress the feeling and force myself to focus on the matter at hand. “I’d love a recommendation, though. I worked for the college clinic for a while, but it didn’t work out, and I’m struggling to find something new.”
“Noah,” Dr. Johnson says, his voice soft. “Please tell me you didn’t get into trouble with Harold Astor.”
I sigh. “You’ve heard of him, huh?”
“I heard of him utilizing his network to blacklist a young doctor. I didn’t think… I never once considered that it could be you. He’s promised financial ruin to anyone that dares to hire you. Why is he going after you with a vengeance? What could you possibly have done to upset a man this powerful?”
I run a hand through my hair, my gaze trailing toward the kitchen door, where I can hear Amara messing around with the ancient pans Aria bought so many years ago. “I fell in love with his granddaughter.”
Dr. Johnson chuckles, and I smile reluctantly. “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he says. “I’ll ask around, but I don’t think anyone is going to risk their clinic. The Astors have large stakes in so many industries that it’s almost impossible to escape them. Harold Astor isn’t a man you want to cross… but then you know that better than anyone.”
I lean back against the wall, my eyes drifting over the countless photos on the walls. “Yeah, I know. Thank you for trying, Dr. Johnson.”
“Anytime, Noah. You’ll be fine. I know you will be.”
I inhale deeply as he ends the call, suddenly feeling hopeless. He was my very last lead, and I guess part of me had been holding off on contacting him because I didn’t want him to feel bad about firing me so early on in my career. He’s a good man, and I don’t want him worrying about me.
I try my best to cheer myself up as I walk toward the kitchen, not wanting Amara to suspect just how deeply worried I am. I don’t want her to be affected by my misery. I don’t want her to regret being with me. For as long as I can be, I want to be the man she fell in love, instead of the person I’m becoming.
I walk in to find Amara staring at her phone, a torn expression on her face. I walk up to her, and she jumps when she notices me. She turns around, stirring the pasta she’s making in a rush, as though she’d forgotten all about it.
I walk up to her and pause behind her, my arms wrapping around her as her back hits my chest. I hold her like that, my chin on her shoulder and her body pressed to mine. My lips brush over her neck and I press a lingering kiss to her skin, enjoying the way a shiver runs down her spine. The way her body responds to mine will never cease to fascinate me.
“Your dad?” I ask.
She freezes and nods, the movement almost imperceptible. She still refuses to speak to her dad, but he hasn’t given up on her. Every time he texts her, I see her expression soften just a little. She pretends she doesn’t care, but her eyes betray her.
“Call him, baby. Go see him.” I let my eyes fall closed and press another kiss to her neck. “I was standing in the hallway just now, wishing I could speak to my dad one last time, wishing I could ask for his advice, wishing I could hear him tell me that everything is going to be okay. But I can’t, Amara. He’ll never text me again. He’ll never ask to see me again. I won’t ever hear from him again. You can still see yours.”
A tear drops down her cheek, and I kiss it away gently. “Do you think I should?” she whispers. “It’s complicated, Noah… he isn’t a good man, but I don’t know… he’s my dad. I was angry at the start, but now that I’ve had some time to let it all sink in, I realize that a part of me does want to see him. I have so many questions, and only he can answer them.”
I turn her around so she’s facing me, her eyes on mine. I lean in and brush her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Do you want to talk about it, baby? I’m here if you do.”
She shakes her head. “It’s a lot, and I… I don’t think… I guess what I’m trying to say is that I should probably talk to him before I talk to anyone else. All I know about my past is what my mother told me, and I guess I’m finally ready to hear his side of the story.”
I nod. I can’t help but wonder what her father did. Not even Maddie knows, and I couldn’t find out anything online. There’s no mention of Amara’s father anywhere. No photos, no old articles, nothing. From the sounds of it, he cheated and left them, but I can’t be sure.
“That’s good, baby. Get both sides of the story and then decide whether you want him in your life. Don’t judge him based on the words of others. Besides, it’s been years, right? He might not even be the same person anymore. I’d give the world to see my father just one more time. Speak to him and then decide.”
She looks into my eyes, and I can tell she’s searching for something. Hope. Reassurance. Maybe both. Whatever it is, she seems to find it, because she smiles at me in that way that makes her light up, and for just a few moments, everything is right in my world.
“I love you, Noah.”
I lean in and press a lingering kiss to her forehead, pouring all my feelings into that chaste kiss. “I love you more.”
And I do. She’s worth everything. Every bit of hardship Harold is putting me through, every hint of fear and uncertainty. She’s worth all that, and more.
