After dropping my dad off at his doctor’s appointment, I head over to the diner across the street and wait. He’s got to get a few tests done, and I know from experience, it’s easier both for the hospital and the patient not to have family hovering around.

I sit at the counter, and while I wait for the waitress to notice me, someone else does—Dr. Luongo, who is sitting at the other end of the bar holding a menu. “Sadie! What a surprise. I thought it was your day off.”

“Hi, Bob. It is my day off,” I explain and try not to look surprised he knows my schedule. “But my dad has to see Dr. Lack.”

“You should probably just have your mail delivered to the hospital with the amount of time you spend here,” he quips. Sadly, he’s right. He points to the empty stool beside me. “May I join you?”

“Of course,” I reply, and he walks over and sits beside me. “Are you on break?”

“I’m grabbing lunch before I start my shift,” he says and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’m not a great cook, so I eat here way more than I should.”

“I don’t cook either,” I say with a sympathetic smile. “The last thing I want to do after a twelve-hour shift is stand around the kitchen for hours making something. I just want to stuff something down my throat and go to sleep.”

He laughs. “Sounds like your life is as full and exciting as mine. My condolences.”

The waitress comes over, and I order a latte and a piece of cherry pie, since I already ate at home and am just snacking to fill time. Bob orders an omelet and a double side of bacon. He catches the look on my face and winks. “I’m a neurologist, not a cardiologist.”

I laugh and turn back to the waitress. “He’ll also have a vanilla latte, but put it on my bill.”

He smiles. “You remembered.”

We talk about work stuff for a few minutes while we wait for our food. And then we start talking about our lives.

“I know you’ve been in San Francisco for a while now, so I have to ask, are enjoying it?” he asks me with a friendly smile.

“I love it here,” I tell him as the waitress brings us our lattes. “I loved living in Toronto, but now that I’m here, I don’t see myself moving back to Canada.”

He lifts his latte. “Well, we’re lucky to have you.”

He takes a sip and smiles. “It’s delicious. But you really didn’t have to buy it for me.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“So that goalie I treated is your brother-in-law?” he questions.

“Sister’s live-in boyfriend, so close enough.” I watch him as he nods and sips his latte again. A little foam sticks to his lip, so he picks up his napkin and wipes it away. I don’t think anything of it. But I know if that was Griffin Sullivan I would want to lick it off his lip myself. It would be an instantaneous urge as soon as I saw it. Why can’t I feel that way about Bob? He seems to be interested.

“Is he doing okay now?”

“Yeah.” I nod as the waitress puts our food in front of us. “He’s been following up with the team doctor, and he’s cleared for practice and expects to be back in games soon.”

His phone buzzes, and he pulls it out of his pocket and groans. “Shit. They need me in early for an emergency consult.”

“Bummer,” I say, but I’m kind of glad. This feels kind of like an accidental date, and I don’t like it. I mean he’s nice and I like him, but I don’t want to lead him on.

He asks the waitress for a to-go box and packages up the remainder of his meal. “Thanks again for the latte.”

“My pleasure.”

“I’d like to do this again sometime,” he says, and I start to panic. “Somewhere that isn’t fifty feet from work.”

Sadie, come on. He’s the closest thing to a real-life McDreamy you’re ever going to find. He’s attractive and charming and despite the bacon-fest he ordered, he’s fit and everything like Griffin Sullivan, but he’s also the one thing Griffin isn’t: ready for something. You should totally say yes to him. Do it now.

“I’m not dating right now,” I blurt and instantly feel relief. “I think you’re great, but I’ve got too much going on with my dad and I’m just not in the right place.”

“Even for one date?”

I nod. He looks disappointed. “I really hope this doesn’t make working together too weird.”

“Of course not. I appreciate your honesty and understand where you’re coming from,” he assures me with an easy smile that seems genuine. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

He passes my mother on his way out without knowing it. He holds the door open for her as she comes in. She sees me and heads over, taking the stool Bob just vacated. “That was a handsome doctor.”

“Yup,” I agree and sip my latte. “And he just asked me out.”

“Really?” Her hazel eyes spark with excitement but dim again as soon as she sees my face. “You turned him down?”

“Yup,” I say again and put down my now empty latte mug. “I wanted to force myself to say yes. He’s charming and good looking and everyone at the hospital likes him, so I know he’s a genuinely good guy. But…”

My mom sighs, but it’s not in disappointment, it’s in solidarity. “The heart wants what the heart wants. And it doesn’t want the sensible choice.”

I nod. “I mean not that there’s a choice. It’s basically Bob or nothing right now.”

“That doesn’t mean it should be Bob,” she replies, and I’m so grateful she’s not one of those mothers who pushes her kids for husbands and babies. She reaches over and takes my fork, digging into the half-eaten cherry pie slice in front of me. I push it closer to her. “Your dad was the absolute worst choice ever.”

She pops a forkful of pie into her mouth and chews while I laugh at that announcement. “He was just some random hottie I met on vacation. He didn’t live near me. He wasn’t in college. He literally lived in his parents’ basement. That’s like the kiss of death, even now.”

“Hey, lady, back off. I live with my parents.”

“Not in the basement, sweetheart,” she reminds me. “Anyway, I knew I was going to be considered crazy when I started dating him, but I couldn’t stop myself. He was so wrong, but yet so right.”

“You two have ruined me forever,” I say to her in mock anger. “I mean how am I ever going to find a love story that great?”

“Jude and Dixie both managed. You will too,” she replies. “I just hope Winnie can.”

She looks genuinely concerned when she says that, and I wish I could make her feel better, but I’ve got nothing good to say when it comes to Winnie’s love life. I decide to change the subject. I pull out my phone and look at the time. “Dad should be done soon. Want to head over?”

She nods. I pull my wallet out of my purse and leave some cash on the counter for my food and the coffees. We walk across the parking lot back to the hospital, and I realize how accurate Bob’s joke was. I spend way too much time here. It feels like I don’t do anything but deal with illness. So why can’t I talk myself into doing something more, like dating Bob?

Because you’re still hung up on Griffin, I remind myself sternly. That kiss made you feel alive and incredible and made it impossible to forget him anytime soon…or maybe ever. So you screwed yourself because you’re going to have to forget him.

We head up to neurology, and sure enough, Dad is waiting in the area outside Dr. Lack’s office. He smiles at us, but it isn’t relaxed and jovial like it should be. Mom bends down and kisses his cheek. Dr. Lack opens her office door. “Come in, everyone.”

I feel like I’m going to the firing squad. Mom wheels Dad in, and I follow. Mom takes the chair, while Dr. Lack sits behind her desk and sighs. This isn’t good. She starts to tell us the test results. Dad’s mobility, muscle strength, swallowing, and breathing have all deteriorated from his last test three months ago.

“Nothing extreme, except I’m a little worried about the swallowing and want to do a follow-up test much sooner than three months, say maybe in a month?” she explains. “And it’s definitely better to use the wheelchair as much as possible now.”

I’m so glad I can’t see their faces, because I know my parents are devastated. This is really bad news. He’s quickly losing all the freedom he has left. But like always, my dad just nods stoically. Dr. Lack hands my mom a piece of paper. “I want to try this new prescription. It might help a little bit with muscle strength.”

Again, Dad nods. “Thanks, Doc.”

“See you in a month.”

Mom gets up and wheels him out, and I follow. In the hall she puts on a brave face. It’s just about the only face I see lately. “I’m going to run to the pharmacy in the building and fill this now,” she says. “I’ll meet you two at the car.”

“Sure thing, honey.” Dad nods, and I take over behind his chair. As we walk to the elevator bay and she heads the other way toward the emergency wing, he turns his head a little to look up at me. “Well, that sucked.”

“Definitely,” I agree.

We get in the elevator. He doesn’t say anything again until I’m wheeling him across the parking lot toward the car. “She’s crying right now.”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“Because I know Enid better than I know myself,” he says, and there’s such a deep sadness emanating from him it’s painful. “She cries every time we get bad news. She tries to hide it, but I know.”

I help him stand up and then put the wheelchair in the trunk while he leans on the side of the car. I open the passenger door to their car and carefully help him in. It’s fairly easy right now because he still has some use of his legs and can balance a little bit. I say the first thing that always seems to come to my mind. “What can I do to help?”

I stand in the open door as he fumbles for his seat belt, but I don’t help. He can still do this on his own, even though it’s a struggle, and I don’t want to take it away from him. When he’s buckled up he looks me straight in the eye. “I asked Dr. Lack to share future test results with you first. You’re good at looking at this professionally, and I’m going to need you to help me ease them into accepting what’s coming.”

“We all know how this ends, Dad,” I remind him softly. “Dixie works for the ALS Foundation. Jude has done more research that a neurology student and—”

He holds up his hand so I stop mid-sentence, and then he reaches out and grabs my hand and gives it a small squeeze. “Pumpkin, we both know that knowing things figuratively and seeing them happen in reality are different. You’ve seen that yourself with patients’ families, I’m sure.”

He’s right. I have. I’ve watched wives of brain-dead husbands try to rationalize that they only need more time. I’ve watched parents argue with doctors when they’re told their kids are gone. I’ve seen it all.

“Sadie, I’m going to be making decisions that they won’t like, but I need you to stay strong and back me up. I need you on my side,” he tells me. “And to help them cope.”

“Okay,” I say because I knew this day would come. I knew he’d need to count on me. He’s been the person I’ve always counted on, so I am not going to let him down. Even if the idea of it makes me feel like I’m suffocating. What I’m agreeing to means standing by his decisions. Standing by him could mean not only going against my siblings, but against my own selfish heart that wants him around as long as possible, by any means possible.

“Give me a hug, pumpkin.” I lean into the car and let him wrap his arms around me. I close my eyes and absorb every second of it, burning it into my brain, the same way I have since he was first diagnosed.

My phone starts to buzz in my back pocket as I let go of him. I pull it out and am startled to see a text from Griffin. I glance up at my dad and step away from the car. “I’ll be a sec.” I turn my back to him and open the message.

I smile but it’s bittersweet. His timing would be perfect if he was my boyfriend because, shit, I could use someone to lean on. I bite my lip and text him back.

I glance up and see my mom walking toward the car, so I close my dad’s door and move to hop into the back seat.

“Can you drive home, honey?” she asks as she walks around the back of the car to hand me the keys.

“No problem.” It’s the easiest request I’ve gotten today by far.

My phone buzzes again as I’m about to slip into the driver’s seat. I pause to read the message from Griffin.

Oh, if only that were true. I sigh. I want to lie to both of us and say sure, we can hang out as friends, but I would only be giving myself false hope. I feel like trying to deny our attraction or push it aside would become torture really fast. And I’m going through enough right now. I don’t need to add self-inflicted wounds. That was why I didn’t want to date anyone to begin with.

My mom looks at me impatiently. “Sorry. Just a second.”

She gets into the back seat, and I respond to Griffin’s text.

I toss my phone into the center console and get behind the wheel. As I pull out of the parking lot and start our journey home, my parents chatter about inconsequential things. I keep stealing glances at my mom in the rearview mirror. Now that my dad has tipped me off, I see the signs. She’s got a crumpled tissue tucked into the sleeve of her sweater. Her eyes look a little too glassy. Her nose is the slightest bit red. I would have blamed it on the chilly weather, but now I know better. And I have to help my dad help her and everyone else through this latest obstacle. I have to focus on that, which is why it’s a blessing in disguise that my timing with Griffin is off. I can’t give my heart to someone when it’s already about to be broken by something else.