I woke Sunday morning to someone knocking on the door. It had been a long and arduous two weeks. Ansley treated me like any other second set of hands in her OR and left all of us feeling a bit uncomfortable. I played that shit off as no big deal. What choice did I fucking have?

"None," I mumbled as I dragged myself out of bed and walked to the door. I pulled on a pair of jeans and rubbed my eyes, wondering who the hell would be stopping by so early on the weekend. I didn't know many people in Boston, and the ones I did weren't really the visiting type.

Aiden Crawford stood on the other side of my door, surprising me a little.

"Hey. Wow. What the fuck are you doing here?" I extended my hand as worry raced through me. Was something wrong with Ansley? Why was Aiden up from New York?

He shook my hand and pulled me into a quick hug. "I came up to have a late lunch with my sisters yesterday. I crashed at a hotel near the medical center thanks to a meeting at Harvard this morning. I figured I'd look you up and come by." He moved back and gave me the once over. "You doing alright?"

"Couldn't be better." I backed up. There was no way in hell I was letting on how I really felt. For one, I wasn't sure. I was ready to head back home, but I had a few more things to check off my to-do list before I packed up. Aiden would be checking the list if I knew him at all. Better to wrap things up professionally and get back to my life.

"Really?" He chuckled and walked in. "I brought you some notes for your Clay Kade surgery tomorrow."

"Did you shoot these to Ans?" I took the file and pulled it open as I walked to the kitchen to start some coffee.

"Since when did you start calling my sister, Ans?" He stopped at the opening to the kitchen, and I turned and shrugged.

"Since we've been working together nonstop for three weeks."

"She still giving you hell?"

"Oh yeah. Well, that's not true. She was, but she's crawled back into her shell." I turned around and worked on the coffee. "I wish there were something I could do to help her, but there's not. I'm tired of trying to think through it."

His hands clamped down on my shoulders from behind. "She's not your concern, Parks. I didn't send you down here to fix Ansley. I sent you down to train the hospital on a few things, to show them some new tricks and to assist Ans with her residents. You've done that. It's almost time to come home."

"Good." I snorted and pulled out of his grasp. "I'm ready. These people here are way the fuck different than New Yorkers."

He smiled as I turned to face him. "Most people would agree that them being different is a good thing."

"By different, I mean serious and boring as hell." I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair. I wanted to tell him that I had feelings for his sister, but it was irrelevant. Whatever happened between me and Ansley was all but buried somewhere in our silence. "So why the involvement in the surgery tomorrow? Nolan call you?"

"Nope. I just know what it's like to deal with these high priority surgeries. There's a lot of added pressure. I wanted to make sure both you and my sister were good to go." He slipped his hands into his slacks pockets and studied me. "I'm not happy with Nolan putting you in charge."

"Instead of Ansley?" I'd learned a long time ago not to take anything Aiden said personally. He was a great guy, and always seemed to be watching out for everyone around him.

"No. I don't like the thought of either of you doing it, but that's the big brother coming out in me." He shrugged. "It should be Ansley leading it because it's her hospital and she's more comfortable there than you are. He's covering her ass because he's still hoping to win her back."

"Fat chance of that shit. He fucked up royally."

"I agree." He sat down at one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "I wish I could get her back to New York with us."

"Don't ask for my help with that, Aiden. She can barely stand me."

"That's cause she's attracted to you."

"Whatever." I walked back into the kitchen and got a cup of coffee. "Even if she is, she's not going to do anything about it."

"Because of me?" He called after me.

"Because she's scared to breathe too deeply, brother." I walked in and offered him a cup. He took it, and I sat down across from him. "She's a beautiful, brilliant, strong woman, but she's going to be lonely until someone knocks that chip off her shoulder."

His expression tightened, and I was worried that I'd gone a little too far. "Are you offering to do that?"

"Nope. She's your family, not mine. I'm ready to wrap this shit up and get back home. I haven't slept with a slutty, hot nurse in three weeks. I'm surprised my balls haven't rotted off."

He rolled his eyes. "You never fail to shake up a conversation, do you?"

I laughed. "What? I'm being serious."

"And why haven't you played the whore here in Boston's halls as you have in ours?" The smile on his face let me know that he didn't look down on me for my lifestyle. Something told me that perhaps it was the same one he lived. Years and years ago.

I shrugged. "I don't know, but enough about me. Let's look over this file, though I feel like it's a waste of your time. It's a pretty routine surgery."

"But a less than routine or average person that you're performing it on. That's where the concern comes in."

"A body is a body, Aiden. You taught me that."

He pursed his lips and nodded, pulling out the file and walking me through everything I already knew. I was glad it was him and not Ansley doing it. The conversation could have easily been misconstrued to leave me feeling the need to defend my intelligence and experience, but it didn't.

He cared. I just wish his sister did.

* * *

Aiden left just before lunch, and I piddled around the house, trying to think through how to spend my day off. Not being at the hospital left too many hours open in the day. I dropped down on the couch and watched TV until late in the afternoon, feeling like a slug for not doing something more constructive.

Back in New York, I would have haunted the halls of the hospital, helping out or looking for a new girl to take back to my place. A smile played at the side of my mouth at the thought of getting back home. Boston had been a mistake, and I was mature enough to realize that. Aiden might have offered the opportunity to me, but I jumped on it like stink on shit. I wasn't sure what I was hoping for. Recognition? Grandeur? Respect from another set of colleagues.

My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my reverie. My dad.

"Hey dad. What's up?" I leaned back and stretched my free arm in the air.

"Hey, buddy." He sounded like death. I jolted up. "I'm not feeling so well."

"Where is Missy?" I walked to the bedroom and found some clothes. Something was wrong. I could tell by the sound of his voice.

"She left a few days ago. I guess she and her ex are going to try and work through things." Sadness filled the room around me. His combined with mine.

"Okay. Well, I'm on my way down there. Just hang tight, and you and I can spend the evening together."

"I think maybe I should call the hospital. I feel hot and can't think straight."

"Yes. Call them. I'm headed that way. Make sure you tell them to call me, okay?"

"I promise. See you soon." He dropped the call, and my heart almost stopped.

Why the fuck hadn't he called me a few days back when Missy left? And why the hell would she getting back with her ex stop her from cleaning and cooking? I grabbed my keys and raced down to the parking lot to find my bike.

It wasn't about the services she was providing. My father had taken the fucking pictures of my mother off the wall. He'd worshiped that woman for the entirety of my life. She was his everything.

"He thought he had a chance at happiness again. Fuck." I got on the bike and drove like a bat out of hell the whole hour to his place. I assumed he was already at the hospital, but something inside of me nagged me to make sure. If he were already there, they were taking care of him. If not... I stopped my train of thought as I pulled up to his house.

I barely got off the bike before half-falling off of it in my attempt to run up to the house. I opened the door and called out. "Dad? You in here, man? It's Parks."

The sound of someone groaning down the hall had my heart in my throat. I pulled out my phone and ran down the hallway to see him on the floor of his bedroom, his skin deep yellow.

"9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

"This is Jacob Parker. My father is suffering from Jaundice due to liver failure. Please send an ambulance to three-twenty-two Fallen Stock Lane." I knelt beside him and reached out to grip his hand.

"An ambulance is on the way."

I dropped the call and moved down to my knees. "Dad? Can you hear me?"

He mumbled something as his eyes fluttered closed. Beer cans littered the bedroom, and the stench of alcohol rolled off of him in thick waves.

"Just hold on, okay? I'll get you to the hospital, and they'll help. This is fixable. No problem at all." I pulled him in my lap and cradled him, talking to him softly until the ambulance arrived. The EMS worked quickly, and before I could blink twice.

"He's an alcoholic. I'm not sure how long he's been in Jaundice. The last time he had someone around him was three days ago," I let the words fall from my lips, answering every question as best I could as they got him in the ambulance.

The EMS asked a million questions, and I worked hard to focus on the guy’s voice and nothing else. I told them I’d follow on my bike just so I’d have some way to get my ass back home. It wasn’t like I had anyone near that I could call.

We got to the small hospital and I moved out of the way and let the doctors and nurses take over.

Standing in the waiting room, pacing the floor gave me a new respect altogether for family and friends of the loved ones I worked on. It had been forever since I'd been given a reality check, but the one in front of me was more than enough.

"Mr. Parker?" An older doctor walked toward me, his hand extended. "I'm Doctor Jeff Jones. Your father is resting peacefully and the yellow levels-"

"I'm a neurosurgeon. Just shoot it to me straight. Please." I shook his hand hard before moving back and trying like hell not to wrap my arms around myself. Everything seemed to be closing in on me. I knew what liver failure looked like in the early stages and in the advanced. How the fuck had my dad gone without treatment or me noticing it?

"Right. Sorry." He nodded. "He's in the advanced stages of liver failure. We're going to do what we can, but I'm not able to give you much hope."

"I'm sorry?" I wrapped my arms around myself. "There are a million treatments for this."

"Yes, and you're at the stage of a transplant. He'll go on a list."

"How long is the list?" For the first time in my adult life, I lamented my decision to be single, to protect myself. Standing there alone with no one to turn to was the darkest moment of my life.

"Longer than he has." He glanced down and took a shallow breath before looking up. "We'll make him comfortable, and you can come see him whenever you're ready."

"Thanks. I need a minute." I turned and walked out of the hospital, got on my bike and drove until I ran out of gas. I dropped down in a field in the middle of nowhere and cried until the sun broke over the edge of the earth.

My dad had been given the shitty end of the stick a million times, and he was a good man.

If he couldn't find peace or love, what hope did I have?

Right. None.