Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: New Adult Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The whole thing is just so confusing to me. She obviously doesn't know him. It's just so strange that he's here, especially when Danny, the only person he claims to actually know, isn't here himself.

I have so many questions just ready to spill from my mouth, just waiting at the tip of my tongue to pour out of me.

"Ramona dear, would you get me a bottle of water?" Gran says, bringing my focus away from Doctor Frost and my questions surrounding his appearance here.

"Sure, Gran," I say simply.

I head back to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and the whole while, my mind remains preoccupied with Dexter Frost.

When I return, the corridor is empty, and neither of them is standing there anymore. I look around for a few more seconds, frowning slightly when they're still not in sight.

I hear Gran's voice coming from the living room, and I dash in there. Mr. Dickson is still going on about some story involving an oak tree and a three-legged sheep, and I try to block out his incessant rambling. I look around, but there's still no Dexter Frost.

"Here," I say, finally handing the bottle to Gran. "Where's Doctor Frost?" I ask.

"Oh, he just left, dear," she says. "He seemed to be in a hurry."

I realize, with surprising disappointment, that he's gone. I don't know why, but hearing that makes my shoulders slump slightly. I can't believe he left without so much as another word.

Whatever. It doesn't matter. It's not as if he owes me anything.

But as much as I tell myself that, for some reason, the little stab of disappointment doesn't go away.

With a sigh, I head back into the kitchen and immediately dial Trixie. I need to talk to someone about something else—anything else—entirely and get my mind out of its current funk.

I know we're not going to be talking about anything important—mostly mindless chatter that'll probably focus on her and Jordan—but that's the whole point. I need to keep my brain busy so that it won't resort to thinking of Dexter Frost and the weirdly disappointing feeling he just left me with

***

It's a little after midnight. Everyone's finally gone, and the day really is over. The house has been completely quiet for some time now.

Gran called it a night almost two hours ago, but I decided to stay up and clean up all the aftermath of today despite her insistence that I follow suit and head to bed as well. It's not like I could've fallen asleep if I did, anyway.

I feel way too restless right now. I've been on edge ever since I got here, but seeing Doctor Frost again, and so unexpectedly, has made me even more scatterbrained.

With a sigh, I finally place the last dish in the dishwasher and set it to run right before I haul the very full trash bag out to the back porch. It's way too cold and I'm way too exhausted right now, so I decide to take it to the dumpster in the morning before I leave instead of doing it now.

I lock all the doors, and just before I turn the kitchen light off, I notice one of the drawers is ajar with a few envelopes sticking out of it. I head over to it, nudging the drawer so it can slide back in, but it won't budge.

I try shoving it a few more times, and on my last exasperated attempt, I finally get it to move, but not in the direction I intended. The entire drawer slides off its support rollers and comes crashing onto the kitchen floor along with everything it contains.

Piles and piles of paper and envelopes are flying everywhere, scattering themselves all over the place. I can't stop the frustrated groan that leaves my throat.