Page 100 of Clinically Bewitched
“Quite well, actually.”
“Quite well,” Fitz repeated.
“Yes.”
“Define ‘quite well.’”
“We’re very happy together.”
“Happy,” Nathan said. “He keeps using that word.”
“I don’t think it means what he thinks it means,” Gabriel muttered.
“It means exactly what I think it means.”
“Does it, though?” Fitz leaned forward. “Because the Julien we know doesn’t do ‘happy.’ The Julien we know does ‘satisfied with optimal outcomes’ and ‘pleased with surgical precision’ and—”
“That Julien was miserable.”
“WHAT?” they all said in unison.
“I was miserable,” I repeated calmly. “I just didn’t know it.”
Hayden pulled out his phone. “I’m calling neurology.”
“I haven’t had a stroke.”
“Tumor?” Nathan suggested.
“No tumor.”
“Possession?” Fitz tried.
“Not possessed.”
“Then explain,” Gabriel said, “how you went from panic attacks about staplers to showing up late insneakers, claiming you were miserable your entire adult life.”
“I met Athena.”
“We know you met Athena,” Fitz said. “We were there when she showed up and talked about your ‘divine masculine energy’ for forty-five minutes while you looked like you wanted to die.”
“That was last week.”
“It wassix days ago!”
“A lot can change in six days.”
“Not this much!” Nathan gestured at me. “This is a complete personality transplant!”
“I’m still me.”
“Are you, though?” Fitz squinted. “Say something only Julien would say.”
I considered this. “The proper organization of surgical instruments is essential for optimal patient outcomes.”
“Okay, that’s Julien.”
“But I don’t care if someone moves my stapler anymore.”
