Page 48 of Dr. Baby Daddy

The room grows smaller, the walls closing in around me. All the air is sucked out of the room as she finishes the book and sets it to the side. Normally, she would be rambling about her day right now, bouncing around with energy. She would ask how my day was, and then we would sit down and watch a movie together.

Tonight, she finishes her book and heads into the bathroom without so much as a mention of her day. As I slice the chicken into pieces, the shower starts in the other room.

Am I making the right choice?

Is hauling my career back to the forefront of my life the right choice to make?

Sooner or later, Izzy is going to realize that this isn’t the life she wants, just like everyone else has. She’s going to figure out that the job will always come first. It has to come first if I want to make a difference in the medical world.

And once she realizes that, she’s going to be better off. She’ll leave me in the dust while she chases her dreams.

Things are better this way, even if I’m ripping my heart from my chest in the process.

CHAPTER 22

IZZY

In the past week, I’ve seen Oliver twice. Once, the night he told me that we wouldn’t be going to the Hamptons after all. The second time was three nights ago when he came home, slept, and then went right back to work.

He’s barely answering messages, and when he does answer, it’s short statements. Yes or no. Sometimes a couple words at a time, but never anything longer than that.

He’s avoiding all conversation with me, no matter how hard I try.

This morning it hurts more than ever.

I throw the sheets back and get out of bed. The other half of the sheets are rumpled but still in place after making my bed yesterday. With a sigh, I make the bed again, knowing that I’m going to be the only one in it tonight too.

He’s ghosting me.

It’s the only explanation that I’ve been able to come up with over the last couple days. Even when I try to talk to him aboutour relationship, he shuts me down and tells me that there’s a patient he has to see to.

I’m starting to think he’s lost interest. Wasting my time trying to get in contact with him to figure out what’s going on between us is getting old. I deserve better than to be cast to the side like I don’t matter.

“He didn’t fall for me the way I fell for him. That’s fine. It happens.”

It’s the same mantra I’ve been repeating for the last two days now. Saying it to the empty bedroom that surrounds me doesn’t help, but if I keep saying it enough, I might be able to trick myself into believing it.

I should have known that he was only going to break my heart. I pushed too hard. I drove him away.

My mom always used to say that I was a lot to handle, especially after my other breakups. She would insist that the right man would be out there one day.

I thought that man was Oliver. He liked my ambition. It wasn’t hard work to keep up a relationship with him. We enjoyed the time we spent together, and then we talked when we could while apart.

That isn’t working for us anymore, and he doesn’t want to talk to figure out what will work.

I can’t keep doing this.

It takes nearly half an hour to drag myself to the shower and get ready to go over to Kate’s. By the time I’ve shimmied into my jeans, I’ve considered canceling on her half a dozen times.

Not that it would do any good. If I try to cancel on her, Kate will come crashing in here and insist that we go out. She will drag me out of the building and force me to have a good time whether I feel like it or not.

Instead, I walk down the hall to her apartment and knock on the door. She grins when she opens it, grabbing my wrist and towing me inside. Cinnamon sugar scents the apartment as breakfast sizzles on the stovetop.

“You didn’t have to make breakfast.” I follow her into the kitchen and start to pull down plates from her cupboards.

“Someone has to wine and dine you. If Oliver isn’t going to pull his head out of his ass, then I’ll be the one making you breakfast on Saturday mornings for the foreseeable future.”

Laughing, I pull her into a hug. “Thank you. I don’t know how I would have survived my first few months in New York without you.”