Page 73 of Paging Dr. VanRyan

And I feared the outcome of this weekend.

I fell asleep while studying, then woke up with a start, looking at my phone. There was a text from Matthew confirming dinner, but it was over an hour ago. There were two others asking me if we were still on, and a missed call. With a sinking heart, I realized it was past nine. I had only meant to study until eight, then get ready. Instead, I had fallen asleep over my books and missed dinner.

He was probably livid.

I raced around and threw on fresh clothes and tugged a brush through my hair. I called an Uber and went to his hotel, hoping he would be there. I spotted him in the bar, sitting in the corner, a glass of something in his hand and an untouched burger on the table in front of him.

I stood by his table, and he glanced up, his eyebrows lifting. “Ah, sleeping beauty.”

“May I join you?”

“You have time?”

I ignored the gibe and sat down, leaning toward him. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep while studying.”

“I know. I went by the house, and Jill checked on you. I told her to leave you sleeping. You needed that more than dinner with me.”

I sat back, his words hitting me.

“Is that what you think?”

He huffed a sigh. “No. That’s my frustration talking.”

“Matthew—” I began, but he held up his hand, cutting me off.

“You’re exhausted, Maddy. Pulled, as you told me, a hundred different directions. I was the same way at the start of residency.” He shook his head. “And I had already done the learning. You’re doing both.” He took a sip of the liquid in his glass. “I was selfish coming here. I should have called and checked.”

“It was⁠—”

Again, he interrupted me. “It was selfish. If someone had done that to me in the middle of exams or when I was practically living at the hospital, I would have told them to fuck off.” He tilted his head. “But you are too sweet to do that, even though it’s exactly what I deserve.”

“No,” I said, not letting him say anything else. “I should be thrilled you’re here. That Sue came. But it feels as if someone added more balls to the ones I’m trying to juggle, and I know I’m going to drop at least one, maybe more.” I looked past him to the gathering darkness. “One of my professors told me I wasn’t trying hard enough. Not giving enough. I don’t know how much harder I can try. I feel like a failure all the time. I push and push, and my marks are good, but they are so hard-won, it feels like it’s killing me.”

Matthew said nothing, letting me talk. “I love that you cared enough to come, but I don’t have the bandwidth, Matthew. I can’t come to the hotel and fuck you for a few hours and assure you all is good, because I’m not sure it is. I never expected to feel this constant anxiety. I never⁠—”

He held up his hand again. “I understand,” he said quietly. “I really do.”

Our eyes met, and what I saw in his expression made me tear up.

“I love you, Maddy. And I know you love me. But we can’t do this.”

The tears came faster.

“I don’t want to be a source of anxiety or worry for you. I don’t want you to feel as if turning your attention from your education to me is going to cause you to lose your dream. I never wanted that.”

I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe. My chest was tight, and it felt as if the nerves were outside my body.

“You said something once about meeting the exact right person at the exact wrong time. That’s us. We’re both reaching for our dream. I’m further along than you, and you need the space to get yours.” He paused. “Without me,” he added gently.

“Matthew,” I sobbed out.

He leaned forward, taking my hands. “It’s okay, baby. I want you to have your dream. If we had met a year or two down the line, we’d be ready. But we didn’t and we’re not. I can’t give you what you need, and I don’t want you to hate us if we keep trying. I don’t want to be a source of anxiety for you. I want to part on good terms. I want you to know I will always love you and I’m there if you need me.”

I put my head down, letting the tears fall. My heart wanted me to argue with him. My head knew he was right. I needed to concentrate on this with no outside distractions. Matthew needed to go and be the great doctor I knew he was becoming without constantly trying to be strong for us both.

“I failed you too,” I whispered.

He crouched in front of me, shaking his head. “No, Maddy. You didn’t. We’re just not meant to be. Not like this. But I will forever be grateful I got to love you.” His voice caught. “And I will miss you more than I can say.”