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As the people worked around him, grim and efficient, he had to admit it. Something was wrong. He couldn’t deny it any longer.
“Your EKG looks good.” The doctor jotted something down on a clipboard. “We need a few tests.”
Relief left him feeling numb. That meant it wasn’t a heart attack, right? He’d been fairly certain it wasn’t—it hadn’t been last time. But the pain had been so fierce, he’d started to wonder. It was probably just stress again. He would stop working on weekends maybe and get more exercise. That ought to take care of it, right?
A light tap of heeled shoes sounded on the tile floor near the door. Julie? He hoped so. This place was feeling lonely, and he wouldn’t mind seeing a familiar face.
The shoes hesitated on the other side of the blue curtain, then a chair rasped against the floor. “Sarah,” a stranger’s voice said to someone else on the other side of the curtain on the other bed.
Noah stared at the partition. So, it wasn’t Julie. He wasn’t disappointed, really. He didn’t mind being alone. She’d probably become bored and went back to the party.
That was okay. Alone was his choice. It was much better than the alternative. He believed that with his whole heart. All he had to do was remember his parents and their marriage. Their fighting and their constant discord.
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