My phone pinged with an incoming text alert and my heart… my stupid, stupid heart jumped with hope before I looked at the screen.

Tasha: How are you holding up? Anything I can do… text you knock knock jokes, fly out to see you?

I smiled at her consideration. Tasha was the only person I’d told, but since it was now Monday and I was missing classes it wasn’t going to be a secret for long. Not that many people would care enough to ask. Mostly I felt like I should have at least told Todd, but he’d want to call his uncle and I wasn’t ready for that. Todd adored his uncle. When he spoke of Dr. Callahan Sterling, his eyes shone and his face gleamed like being related to the world-renowned doctor made Todd a better person by genetics. As angry as I was at Dr. Sterling, I wasn’t prepared to pull the rug out from under Todd.

And I still hadn’t heard from Court. I knew he was hurting and I wondered how he’d left things with his father. Had he worked things out, gotten the closure he needed? The pit in my stomach said otherwise. So did the lack of text messages.

I pulled out the business card Todd had given me and ran my finger along the frayed edges. They were worn where I’d clutched it, agonizing over whether to call him or not. I’d meant what I’d said to Court, I’d always choose my mom but right now I couldn’t bring myself to call the doctor that had abandoned a man I cared for deeply. I was at an impasse.

After tucking the card back into my purse, I texted back a response to my best friend.

Me: I’m fine. You just worry about passing your art history final. I’ll be back late tomorrow night. Thank your father again for getting me a flight at the last minute.

Tasha: I will. Let me know if you need anything else. Xoxo

“Shouldn’t the doctor be here by now?” Donnie asked as he paced the tiny hospital room.

I shot him a look of annoyance and stole a peek at my mother. She’d looked sad the first day. A broken hip and a series of bruises along the entirety of her left side from the fall had scared us all into a realization that the time had come. The time where she’d no longer be able to get around like she had fought to for so long – despite all of our insistences that she find a job where she didn’t have to be on her feet so much.

Today, three days later, and hopefully the day she’d be released to go home, she just looked defeated. Like she had completely given up hope that she could live a normal life. The doctors had warned us years ago that depression was common, even to be expected, as her symptoms got worse and the disease progressed, but I was not prepared for the light and jubilance that was always present on my mother’s face to disappear. It was worse than any medical diagnosis. Her spirit was gone. She hadn’t even chastised me for flying home. Or for demanding that I would return to New York for good as soon as finals were over.

A short rap on the door drew my attention to it and the man entering. Dressed in the same white coat the rest of the doctors wore, it was his dark hair and eyes that made my breath catch. All eyes in the room turned to him at my sharp inhale.

“Good afternoon,” he said in a friendly tone as he strode to the hospital bed where my mother laid. “I’m Dr. Sterling. How are you?”

She looked first to me as if acknowledging that I had gotten him here and then braved a smile in his direction but spoke truthfully as she responded. “The emotional injuries are far worse than the external ones.”

He spoke softly. “Yes, I understand. It’s perfectly normal – not that you give a damn what’s normal or not.”

That pulled a real smile from her and even a bit of life returned to her eyes.

He offered her his hand and held it almost like he was shaking it but without movement. “I’m not sure how much your daughter has told you about me, but I’m a neurologist. I work with a number of people in all stages of the disease. I’ve had a chance to look over your chart and I think you’d be a great candidate for a new therapy we’ve been using with limited success. It wouldn’t be a cure, you understand, but could give you longer with your current level of motor skills and cognitive function.”

“And I could do the therapy here in New York?”

Dr. Sterling looked to me for the first time. His blank expression met the surprise in mine and then glanced back to my mother. “Yes, it’s twice a week here at the hospital. I’ll get weekly reports and I’ll be back at least once a month to see you personally and gauge your progress.”

Her hands shook a little more as she considered his offer and asked the next question. “That sounds great, but also expensive. Will our insurance cover the therapy?”

He swallowed, and I could tell he chose his words carefully as he said, “Everything is covered. You’ll just need to fill out some paperwork relieving the hospital and myself of any liability, standard forms but I do urge you to read over it all carefully. Especially what will be expected of you and what benefits you may gain. I’m not going to lie to you, it will be hard and frustrating and if you feel like giving up now, well it’s just a fraction of what you can expect the first month or two. I will push you to do things you probably haven’t tried to do in some time.”

He smiled and patted her hand before dropping it back gently onto the bed. He let his gaze roam around the room to each of us. “I’m sure you’ll come up with a number of questions after I’ve left… feel free to call me at any time. Meanwhile, I’ll get you on the schedule.”

With a curt nod, he turned to leave.

My mother, father, and brothers exchanged hopeful smiles, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t allow me to celebrate just yet.

“Be right back,” I said to my mother as I dropped a kiss to her temple.

I jogged after him, catching him just as he reached the nurse’s station down the hall.

“Dr. Sterling?” I said as I stopped behind him.

He turned and smiled, giving me the polite grin I assumed he used on all patients and families. It wasn’t insincere, just reserved. “What can I do for you Miss Winters?”

“I wanted to thank you for coming so soon. I didn’t realize Todd even knew of my mother’s accident yet. I left in a rush Friday night,” I rambled as I wrung my hands in front of me.

He studied me carefully like he was trying to decipher my words. I wished I’d been less adamant to stay offline. For all I knew, Court had gone nuclear and really outed his father’s secret creating some sort of smear campaign. For just a moment I was grateful he didn’t know my connection to Court, and then ashamed because Court deserved better than that.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be here sooner. I called her doctor this morning to get records and he told me of the accident. I flew in as soon as I could.”

I balked. He’d flown in specifically for my mother?

“Oh,” I said now completely unsure of what to say to this man who I wanted to hate but had dropped everything to come see my mother. “I assumed you’d found out from Todd. I – well, either way, thank you,” I stammered out.

“You’re welcome.”

I walked away in a daze. Confused by how I felt about too many things. Graduation, moving, my mother’s worsening condition, Dr. Sterling being Court’s father but also getting my mom into a program that I was certain wouldn’t be available through any other means – I felt exhausted by the ways my world had been knocked on its axis.

I detoured to the waiting room before going back to my mother’s hospital room and pulled out my cell phone. With shaky hands, I typed in Dr. Callahan Sterling and son into the search browser. I held my breath while the search results loaded, but there wasn’t anything recent in the news. I clicked on the first link which took me to a bio page where a picture of a model-worthy family stared back at me. Dr. Sterling stood next to a regal looking blonde woman and on the other side of him, a girl about sixteen I’d guess with hair as blonde as her mothers and a young man who looked so much like Court my insides hurt. The boy was probably twelve or thirteen by my best guess, still awkward and gangly but there was no doubt he was going to grow up and be as handsome as his father. As handsome as Court.

My heart ached for Court more than ever. What had it felt like to see this picture after years of wondering about his parents? Somehow, I knew he’d assumed that his parents had given him up with the desire not to have kids or a family, but Dr, Sterling had eventually made a family and a name for himself and seemingly never looked back on the son he’d given up when he was a kid.

I clicked through a few more links, a few more pictures of him and his wife at events and news of numerous awards and honors that had been bestowed upon him. I wanted to throw up or call Court.

I tried another search string, Court Adams and Dr. Callahan Sterling. Nothing. Well, thank God for that anyway. Hope surged in my chest. Hope that Court and his father had been able to have a civilized conversation. Hope for my mother. But just as quickly as I allowed myself to look to a positive future, I remembered even if both those things were true, Court and I were apart. The pain on Court’s face had been a white flag. He’d pulled away even as I’d been the one to put the actual distance between us. Still, the ugly truth was that I had walked away. I’d made a stand with confidence that I’d gained from Court himself, but I feared I’d gotten it all terribly wrong. And if I had made the right decision, could my heart ever be pieced back together without Court in my life?

I returned to school the next day. My mother was settled back at home with my father and brothers to look after her and two weeks’ worth of freezer meals friends and neighbors had brought over. It eased some of my guilt for leaving.

My mom assured me she would be fine, that there was no need to hurry back and she’d even pushed me again to reconsider graduate school. I had considered it. I would make more money with a master’s degree to add to my resume, but it all seemed so unimportant now that my mother’s condition was worsening. How many good years did she have left where she would be able to walk, able to talk, able to get out of bed? My throat tightened at the thought of her dependent on a walker or wheelchair. How far off was that?

No. I would not allow myself to throw a pity party. If I expected my mother to keep a positive outlook, I had to, also.

“Wanna have a study night in front of the TV with The Walking Dead as background noise?” Tasha called from the living room.

“Can’t,” I said from the open bathroom door where I studied my reflection. “I’m meeting Todd at the library. He has notes for our History class.”

I re-did my bun and then reached for my eyeliner. I made the blue line thicker on the top and bottom of my eyes. My gaze landed on the note Court had written on the mirror. I hadn’t been able to force myself to remove his words, Sweet dreams.

Somewhere along the way it had become his signature sign off to me and the words touched something inside of me every time. I shook my head, trying not to dwell on the fact I’d never hear him say those words again. And the blue scrawl on my mirror and the text messages on my phone history were the only proof that it had ever really happened at all. Court had touched so much of my life and yet left so little behind.

I left the bathroom and shoved my textbooks and notebooks into my backpack while avoiding Tasha’s disapproving scowl. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms waiting for an explanation. I hadn’t told her much about what had gone down between Court and me. I didn’t know how to explain without telling her everything, and everything felt like too much. Like it was Court’s story to share. Leika and I knew, but who else? I frowned as I thought about the people he’d let close to him. Only two. And now only one was still by his side.

“We’re friends and we’re just studying at the library with lots of people and me with mountains of work to do to catch up,” I said as I hefted my bag on to my shoulder.

“Alright,” she said by way of concession, but I knew she wasn’t going to drop it completely until I told her at least some of what had happened. I just hoped by the time she was done being patient it would hurt a little less to talk about.

Todd was waiting for me upstairs at the library. The same prime study spot as last time, but sans the friends.

“Where is everyone?” I asked as I sat my things down on the coffee table in front of the couch. The whole setting too intimate with just the two of us. Busy library or not.

“They all bailed on me to stay at the house and study.”

I moved to grab my bag. “Oh, well you should have called. Tasha was asking if I wanted to study with her anyway.”

He stood and lifted a hand in front of his chest in a gesture to stop. “No don’t go. Please. I lied. I didn’t invite anybody else. I wanted to talk to you.”

I sat hesitantly. “Okay.”

Todd raked a hand through his hair and took a seat opposite of me. The coffee table was between us, but it didn’t seem like a big enough obstacle to keep my heart out of his grasp. He brought both hands together and clasped them almost casually between his knees.

“Look, this is all really shitty timing and I know you’re set to move back to New York in a few weeks and I’m staying here for another four years and then who knows where I’ll have to go, but I’m not ready to say goodbye to you. I know you said you were sort of seeing someone else and I respect that, but if it’s only sort of then maybe there’s still a chance for us?”

I opened my mouth to speak and no words came out. He’d stunned me.

“Would you at least consider it – keeping me, or us, as an option. I’ll come to New York when I can, and you can visit me, we can talk and text. You’re going to be busy with work and your family and me with school so maybe it could work.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted finally when he looked at me expectantly.

“Will you just promise me you’ll think about it?”

I nodded and stood with my bag. “I think I should go back to the apartment until –”

I had no idea what I was going to say, but he nodded in understanding and stood. “I’ll walk with you.”

We walked in silence, me mulling over how quickly things had changed in the last week, and him giving me space, I assumed. When we reached the parking lot where his BMW was parked in a meter spot, he motioned to the shiny, red car. “Can I give you a ride?”

It felt like the least I could do, just a ride, not a promise of anything more, and I slipped into the passenger seat. It was only a few blocks to my apartment and Todd was pulling up outside the complex before I’d had little more time to think about what he’d asked. He put the car in park, but left the engine running. I swallowed hard and looked over at him ready to tell him I didn’t think there was any way I could get involved right now, but before the words could leave my mouth he captured my mouth with his. It seemed to be his signature move.

The kiss was soft, and I allowed his lips to guide the pace as he moved slowly. His hand moved to my chin and I stiffened with the additional contact before forcing myself to relax. To explore, to discover, to savor, and ultimately to judge. There was no jolt of electricity like there’d been with Court. His hand felt intrusive and forceful where Court’s had always seemed safe and loving. And when Todd finally swept his tongue into my mouth, I didn’t have the desire to tangle mine with his. I was analyzing, and I hated myself for it.

He pulled back and smiled at me, a lazy smile like a man who’d just given a girl a kiss she would never forget. And I wouldn’t, but for all the wrong reasons.