It was a long time before Blake spoke. “I don’t mean to look at you that way.”

“I know,” Trevor replied. And he did know that. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you do, just like no matter how far I go, it will never change what I’ve done.”

***

“Alan asked me to marry him. I said yes.” Simon’s fork fell out of his hand at Heather’s statement. He wasn’t sure why it surprised him so much. It shouldn’t. They’d been together for a while now. They worked well together.

She was that independent woman again because she knew Alan loved her. He was a successful, highly respected doctor, but he still never put that above Heather.

“Wow.” He picked up his fork again. “That’s great.” Jesus, why the hell did those words sound so forced?

“You sound like you’re constipated,” she said dryly.

“You’re not my doctor or my wife. There’s no reason we should discuss my digestive tract.” Simon took a drink of wine. It reminded him of Trevor and he set the glass back down. It had been easy for him not to drink around his friend. He wasn’t much of a drinker, and now he felt almost guilty for having a glass. “I’m happy for you, sweetheart. I really am. You deserve someone who treats you right.”

Heather smiled at him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “Thank you. Your opinion means the world to me, Simon. We didn’t work out, but I spent some of the best years of my life with you. You’re my best friend, which is why, despite knowing it will piss you off, I’m going to tell you that you deserve someone too. I want you to be able to operate again. I want that more than anything, but you have to know...it’s not the only thing out there.”

Each of her words were a knife into his chest, ripping him open.

“You’re a smart man, but just because you’re smart doesn’t mean your brain is all you need to use. You’ve spent years working on other people’s hearts...what about your own?”

Simon tossed his napkin on the table and leaned back. “Romance is the last thing on my mind right now.”

“Ha! Like that’s new! It’s always been the last thing on your mind. I’m pretty sure you approached our relationship more like a business proposition than love.”

Had he done that? Had he really?

“We got along great for the most part, and we both know the sex was good.”

He caught Heather’s eye and she smiled. She was right, it had been.

“But you married me because you thought it would be easy. My dad was a doctor, and you knew you would always be married to your work. And if that’s what you want, you still can be. Surgery or not—”

“I’m a surgeon, Heather.”

“Yes, you are. And you’re a cardiologist. You can still practice. Or don’t. Write your book if you want, but you need to stop wasting away. Meet someone. Have a one-night stand, fall in love, find another surgeon who thinks they can fix your hand. Just do something.”

This conversation was entirely too emotional for him. “How do you know I haven’t had a one night stand?”

She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t about sex. It’s about your life. You deserve to be happy, Simon. Alan has this friend, Debbie...”

“Jesus. No. No way. Don’t you think it’s a little strange that you’re marrying one of my old business colleagues and now you’re trying to set me up with his friend? I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m writing my book and renovating a home. I’m fine,” he said again. But he wasn’t fine. Not really.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Two weeks into the remodel and Trevor had hardly spoken to Simon. It wasn’t that they were unfriendly or anything. Simon would get progress reports on the house, or stop by to check things out as they worked. He finally met Blake, so some of the back and forth went through his brother now (even though he still went to Trevor first). And maybe it should. Maybe Blake had been right. If they hardly spoke just because they stood too close to each other and Simon held his wrist, being friends while doing this remodel would be a huge mistake.

Or maybe he’d just been reading too much into the friendship. They hung out for a few weeks and now they didn’t. Shit like that happened all the time.

So, Trevor moved on with his life. What else did he have to do? He started hitting up more meetings because sitting around the house drove him bat shit crazy. He got up earlier every day so he could run before work. It was dark half the time he was out there, but he didn’t mind that. He liked it when the rest of the world was asleep. A year and a half ago¸ he would have just been going to bed, if he’d slept at all.