We sat on the deck of the best sushi restaurant in Burlington, overlooking Lake Ontario at sunset. It was fucking surreal, being here, when only twenty-four hours ago I’d been messaging Becca, revolving around her like the earth around the sun.

I still hadn’t messaged her. I couldn’t bring myself to do it now, simply because texting would open me up to all the same feelings that’d clouded my judgment to begin with.

“Well?” Reggie sat across from me, gripping his sake in a hand that was far too big to hold the square cup. “Enjoying your time here so far?”

“You could say that,” I replied. But you’d be lying. No matter how beautiful Vermont was, no matter how much sense it made to be here and to leave Stoneport behind, it just didn’t sit right in my gut. And that was the fucking problem.

Since when had I based any of my decisions off of anything but what was right? What made sense?

When I’d left Tabitha to do my service, it’d been because it was the right thing to do. For my country, for my legacy, for myself, and for my family. This was the first time I’d hesitated because of a truly external factor.

Fuck, did that make me a selfish prick? Maybe. Maybe.

I leaned back in my seat and looked out over the lake, grasping at my thoughts. They were slippery, one second focused on Becca and Stoneport, the next on Tabitha’s ridiculous revelation, then on Vermont and the opportunities I had here.

I’d never, never wanted to give it all to another woman again, not after Tabitha, so why had I gone all in with Becca? Why had I let myself get this fucking far?

“Dude, are you even here right now?” Reggie tapped his glass back down on the table and ran a hand over his balding head, then grimaced. “You’re not as happy as I thought you’d be, man. You still hung up on Tabitha?”

I could always trust Reggie to be frank with me. “Hell no,” I said. “Not at all. I’m just contemplating my next move.”

“Contemplating?”

“Yeah.”

Reggie snorted. “Now I know something’s wrong. You’ve never been the contemplative type, Mason.”

“What the fuck’s that mean?”

“That you’re more into action than sitting around thinking about what to do next. I’ve never seen you hesitate once in my life, not in med school, not under fire, nothin’. What’s changed?”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” I said. Except that was a goddamn lie. I knew very fucking well what had changed and who had changed it.

It was a combination of being who I’d always been and being guarded. Not wanting to give it all when it could become a royal fuck-up just as easily.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and gave me an excuse to escape Reggie’s prying questions and stares. Motherfucker could’ve twisted secrets from a spy with just one look.

“One sec,” I said and drew my cell out of my pocket.

The name flashing on the screen brought all the rage back again.

“Who’s that?” Reg asked.

“Perry.”

“Jesus H. He still calls you? Thought he would’ve buried his head in the sand by now. What a piece of shit.” Reggie downed the last of his sake just as a waitress arrived and placed a platter of sushi between us. California rolls, nigiri, rainbow rolls, and more.

My stomach growled, and I hung up on Perry’s call. “He’s still in Stoneport. Apparently working for Crown now that I’m gone.” Memories of breaking his nose and the lead-up to it came flooding back. I focused my energy on eating.

“No shit? Still in Stoneport. Yet another reason I know something weird is going on with you, man. Why would you hang around in the same town as that douchebag?”

“What, I gotta run away because he’s there, like a coward? That’s not me.”

“I call bullshit on that one,” Reggie said and dabbed his thin lips with a napkin. “One, because you were going to move after the divorce, and two, because it’s not running away, my man. It’s not involving yourself in a potentially harmful situation. Christ, if you let your anger run you, you’ll wind up killing the fucker, and then where will you be?”

He had a point. “I don’t run away from my problems.”

“Then why are you here?”

“You offered me a job, and I needed a break from the town.”

“Why?”

I blinked at him. “You should be a newscaster. Or a journalist.”

Reggie crossed himself at the thought, then pointed at me. “You’re not telling me something.”

“There are many things I don’t tell you,” I replied. “Besides, when did our friendship evolve into talking about feelings?”

Reggie raised both eyebrows. “Feelings, huh?”

Fuck, I’d put my foot in it now. The last thing I wanted was to talk about Becca with anyone. This was something I needed to work out on my own. “Fuck off,” I muttered.

Reggie snorted again but focused on dipping sushi in soy sauce instead of talking. I sighed in relief.

“It’s another woman, isn’t it?” Short-lived relief.

“Dude, seriously?”

“Seriously. I can tell something’s got you fucked up and that’s why you’re hesitating on taking a position here. As much as I want you at the practice, I also want you to be happy. That’s what friends do, man. So spill it. Who is she? What’s keeping you from being with her?”

I stared at him, speechless.

Reggie had gone through a divorce too, and our rule had always been to leave it out of our calls and talks, simply because we didn’t want to bring down our vibe when we were chilling out. What the fuck had changed?

“Reggie, dude, I don’t want to talk about this with anyone. I came up here to see the practice, to clear my thoughts, and to make a decision. Not to complicate things further. Feel me?”

Reggie gobbled down a California roll and narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to add something more, but my phone rang, interrupting him again. Thank fuck for that.

I answered without looking at the caller ID and rose from the table. “This is Doctor Dunn,” I said and waved to Reggie to signal I’d be right back.

I walked away from him and toward the railing, which looked out over the calm waters. Dusk had come fast, settling purple fingers over the surface of the water, and had brought with it a sense of false peace.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” Perry said.

I slid my thumb onto the screen, considered hanging up on him altogether. What the fuck could he possibly want? “Speak and speak fast. You’ve got two seconds to tell me what you want before I hang up the damn phone.” And possibly toss it into the lake for good measure.

“I’m calling to say I’m sorry, Mason. For everything I did. For fucking you over, for taking Tabitha from you, for everything.”

I recoiled, shock curling through my body. “What the fuck? What’s your game, Jackson?” He’d never fucking apologized. He was a total creep. A narcissistic prick—he didn’t give a fuck about anyone else but himself. Maybe not even Tabitha.

“No game. I realize what I did was wrong, man, but I have to know if there’s any truth to what Tabitha said at your place yesterday. I gotta know if she slept with you,” he continued, a tinge of desperation in his tone now.

“Seriously? You were feeling up Rebecca in the practice a month ago. You don’t strike me as the most faithful or honest person, you fantastic bag of walking dicks. Why do you give a shit whether Tabitha did anything with anyone else?” I wasn’t defending my ex, merely pointing out the hypocrisy of the situation.

“Because I’ve got to know. I’ve just got to know.”

“Fuck you,” I said and made a move to hang up again.

“Wait! She’s not pregnant!”

I froze and pressed the phone to my ear again. “Huh?”

“Tabitha, she’s not actually pregnant. She told me last night after the whole shitfest. I forced the truth out of her, man, and yeah, she’s not pregnant. She just said that to get your attention or to get her claws into you, I don’t know.”

“That’s pretty much in keeping with the way she’s behaved in the past, so I wouldn’t put it past her. Thanks for telling me shit I already knew.”

“She’s not pregnant,” Perry continued, oblivious to my tone. “But she’s still claiming that you slept with her.”

“I didn’t,” I snapped. “There’s your fucking answer, you dickwad. I wouldn’t go near her if my fucking life depended on it. And I feel the same motherfucking way about this conversation.”

Perry heaved an actual sigh of relief. “Thank god,” he whispered. “Thank god.” There was a beat, and then his tone shifted. “Good. You’d better stay away from her, Dunn. She’s mine, even if she doesn’t want it right now.”

“What?”

“She’s mine. My fiancée. She’s just having second thoughts because of how serious we’ve gotten. She doesn’t actually want you. You, stay away from her.”

Mirth bubbled up from deep within me. It was unbelievable that this asshole thought I had any interest in Tabitha after everything that’d happened. “I’m not interested in her, dumbfuck. I’m not interested in any woman.” Absolute lie. “So why don’t you do us all a favor and keep away from me. Both of you.” I hung up without another word and took a second to cool down, looking out at the lights shimmering across the lake.

Fuck, this place was beautiful, and not near as hot as Louisiana. But it’s not where you belong. It’s not what you want.

I pushed off from the railing and paced back to the table then took my seat again.

Reggie had already tucked into a second glass of sake, and he raised his eyebrows at me over it. “Well? Everything all right?”

“I don’t have an answer to that,” I replied.

“So?” Reggie asked. “Spill.”

“You’re still on that? I thought you’d have forgotten about it by now, given how much alcohol you’ve consumed.”

“Alcohol only makes me more insistent,” Reggie said then pressed a finger to the tip of his nose. He hesitated and swept it into the air. “Insistenter? Is that a word?”

“No, dipshit, that’s not a word.” I ordered another glass myself then set to work eating sushi and ignoring my friend’s pointed stare. This wasn’t going to turn into a night of sharing and caring. I’d come to clear my mind, and that was what I’d do. “You got any other doctors lined up to take work at your practice?” I asked.

Reggie lit up like a fuckin’ Christmas tree. He set down his sake and scooched forward, clicking his chopsticks together. “You bet I do,” he said and immediately launched into the story of who he’d interviewed and when, and what he ultimately wanted for the practice.

I listened to him rambling on, and my mind drifted off again, back to Becca. Back to Stoneport.

Back to her hair streaming out behind her as she’d walked away from me, the strong set of her shoulders, the expression in her baby blue eyes as she’d confronted me in my living room. And I’d fucking left her there without another word.

Christ, what kind of man did that make me? The kind who ran away when the going got tough?

I shifted my cell on the table and clicked the home button, checking my notifications. No text notifications, no voice messages, no missed calls. If she was upset I’d left, she hadn’t shown it.

And that thing she’d wanted to talk to me about? It couldn’t have been that important if she hadn’t followed up after I’d left.