Page 48 of The Embers That Remain

Cali.

She stood near the front desk, just off to the right, dressed in navy scrubs, her hair pulled back in a braid over her shoulder and a stethoscope hanging around her neck. She looked different. More grounded. More certain than the girl I’d known or thought I’d known. Everything else about her was painfully familiar. Her shoulders were squared, but there was tension in them.

I could still turn around. The doors hadn’t even finished closing behind me. I could walk out, come back later, pretend I hadn’t seen her. Instead, I stayed because I refused to tolerate another day of this awkward avoidance thing we had going. Because history didn’t disappear just because you’d spent years refusing to examine it.

She was talking to someone.

A guy stood too close to her, his hospital wristband visible, with what were probably discharge papers folded in his hand. He leaned in as if he had every right to be in her space, and heat climbed the back of my neck. He was a little shorter than me but had obviously spent time in a gym.

Cali angled her body slightly, and her face came into view. Her smile never reached her eyes. I ignored it. The guy said something I couldn’t hear, and her expression softened. My throat burned because I’d seen that smile before. Once, I’d been stupid enough to think it belonged to me. The guy laughed, too easily, as if he thought he was already winning. I moved closer again, close enough now that I could hear, but still out of sight.

“—just saying.” He grinned, his tone light but insistent. “Feels like I should get a better follow-up than just a pamphlet and a ‘take it easy.’ You owe me one after stitching me up.”

Cali let out a small laugh, the sound easy and unforced. For a second, I saw the girl who used to laugh at my stupid jokes. Once, I’d spent an entire afternoon trying to make her laugh like that.

“Pretty sure not overexerting yourself is solid medical advice.”

“Yeah, but what if I need motivation?” he pressed.

My teeth ground together. Cali shifted her weight to one hip, crossing her arms loosely. She smiled again, and this time there was something more deliberate in it.

“Motivation, huh?” she said.

The guy’s grin widened. “Yeah.”

She stepped slightly closer, just enough to close the space between them by an inch or two. “And what exactly are you proposing?” she asked. There was a lightness in her tone that didn’t sound clinical anymore. It sounded playful. My fingers curled into my palms.

“Dinner,” he said. “Nothing crazy. You, me, somewhere that doesn’t smell like antiseptic.”

Cali laughed again, glancing down briefly before looking back up at him. “Tempting.” The word echoed louder than everything else in the lobby.

“So that’s a yes?” he asked, clearly encouraged.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she studied him for a second, her expression unreadable. “Maybe,” she said finally. Maybe. That one word was enough.

“I’ll take maybe,” he said, straightening slightly.

The corners of her mouth lifted again, but this time it didn’t hold as long. “You should probably focus on not landing yourself back in here first,” she said. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your chances before they start.”

He laughed. “So I do have a chance?”

She shrugged, that same subtle tilt to her posture. “I didn’t say that.” She didn’t say no.

The guy leaned in again, lowering his voice in a mock whisper. “Give me your number. I’ll prove I can follow the doctor’s orders.” That should have been the end of it.

She hesitated. “Persistent,” she said.

“Determined,” he corrected.

She huffed out a quiet laugh. Then she reached for his discharge papers. She pulled a pen from her pocket. No. She flipped the papers over and started writing.

“There,” she said.

The guy lit up immediately. “Is that your number?”

She smiled.

He grinned. “Guess I’ll have to call and find out.”