She rested a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Ron. I know that must have been embarrassing. But everyone makes mistakes. Dr. Cudahy and Dr. Prickett know that. I’m sure they’ve made more than a few, themselves.”
Her words didn’t seem to help much. She could still see bitter self-recrimination in his expression. “It was such a stupid thing to do. Any moron should have known to apply pressure. They probably all think I’m an idiot.”
“They don’t think you’re an idiot.”
“I am an idiot. Damn it.”
He was taking this relatively minor setback much harder than he should. Haley knew Ron had a streak of insecurity hiding behind his wisecracks and devil-may-care attitude. It had made an appearance during an outburst in the study group when he’d accused himself of holding the others back, implying that they’d all been carrying him through the first two years of classes and exams. He’d even offered to leave the group if they’d thought he wasn’t up to their level, to everyone’s shock.
They’d firmly assured him that he was as valuable a member of the group as any of them, and that not one of them had ever considered him a liability. Not even Haley, even though she’d occasionally complained that he didn’t take his studies seriously enough and that he was too willing to accept the possibility that he could wash out before the end of medical school. She’d challenged him to be more positive, to stop playing the clown and be more serious and more determined to succeed against all odds, but she’d never even suggested he didn’t belong among them.
She’d wondered ever since what lay behind that deeply buried self-doubt. From the very few remarks he’d made about his family, she strongly suspected the lack of confidence had been instilled years earlier. Setbacks like this, though more galling than significant, just seemed to reinforce his own self-doubt. What he needed more than the sympathy she’d already offered, she decided, was a metaphorical slap to rouse him from the self-pity party.
“You screwed up, Ron,” she said, keeping her tone matter-of-fact. “It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last. Suck it up and get over it. You won’t make that particular mistake again.”
He blinked a couple of times, then frowned. “Yeah, you wouldn’t be so casual about it if you’d given Dr. Cudahy and your resident a blood shower.”
“I’d want to find a deep hole and climb into it,” she admitted frankly. “But then I’d tell myself to keep going and do better next time. It’s what I always do when I make a mistake—and I’ve made my share.”
He nodded, his expression hard to read. She wondered if her words had really made an impression or if he was just placating her when he said, “Yeah, okay, thanks. You’re right, of course.”
“Ron—”
His mouth tilted into his usual cocky grin and he shrugged, cutting in with a dry laugh. “Hey, I got a good story out of it, right? Connor and James are going to love this. Hell, by the time I embellish it a little, it’ll be hysterical. Wait until I tell them about the looks on Prickett’s and Cudahy’s faces.”
She knew he would give no further insight into his feelings about the incident. She’d just happened to see him before he’d had a chance to erect his usual barriers, to hide his true emotions behind what she thought of as his jester’s grin. Had she run into him a couple of hours later, she’d have heard the funny story and completely missed the distress beneath it.
It bothered her that he still felt the need to hide those feelings from her. From all his friends, she corrected herself quickly. There was no reason to think he’d be any more forthcoming with her, in particular, than with the others.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” she felt compelled to ask.
There was no reading the expression behind his eyes when he replied, “Oh, sure. I just need some clean clothes and a big ol’ chunk of chocolate cake. Wouldn’t have any on you, would you?”
She forced a little smile in return. “Not at the moment. But I’ll make you one later, if you like.”
“A pity cake?” He gave a short laugh and patted her cheek in a gesture that made her go from wanting to comfort him to wanting to punch him. “That’s our Haley. Always there to boost the morale.”
Before she could answer, he dropped his hand and moved toward the doorway. “I’d better go finish my assignments. See you tomorrow, Haley.”
He was gone before she could respond.
Ron parked in the lot of Haley’s apartment building Wednesday evening, then sat looking at her window for a few minutes. He was there to study for the shelf exams they would take at the end of their medicine rotation. They’d invited Hardik to join them. He’d agreed, but he’d said he might be running a little late and urged them to start without him.
It annoyed Ron that he was oddly hesitant to be alone with Haley until Hardik arrived.
A few days earlier, he’d been irritated with Haley for letting her matchmaking patient’s teasing put awkwardness between them. Now he was the one feeling awkward because he’d let her see his chagrin at the careless mistake he’d made in front of his resident and attending.
They hadn’t discussed the incident since, though there had been some ribbing from his resident during rounds Tuesday morning. Haley had not joined in the teasing, and she’d been quick to change the subject as soon as she was able. She’d considered herself rescuing him, he supposed.
He shouldn’t be so perturbed that Haley knew about his gaffe. As she’d reminded him, they all did something wrong at some point in their training. Not that he’d heard of her doing anything as stupid as he had that afternoon. What galled him the most was that she’d seen him before he’d had a chance to hide his embarrassment and resulting self-doubt.
Telling himself he would just laugh it off if she brought it up this evening, turning the whole incident into a self-directed joke as he always did, he exited his vehicle. She probably wouldn’t even mention it, unless she felt compelled to give him another bracing pep talk.
As he walked toward her door, he found himself hoping she’d made that chocolate pity cake. He wouldn’t turn down chocolate, no matter what the motive behind the offering.
Already wearing his usual practiced grin, he rang her doorbell. The grin faded when he saw her face. She was smiling, and her makeup looked freshly applied—neither of which deceived him. He knew her too well. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Come on in, I made that cake I promised you.”
Even cake couldn’t distract him from this. “You’ve been crying. What happened?”
She sighed. “I didn’t think you would be able to tell.”
He closed the door behind him without ever taking his gaze from her face. “I can tell. What’s wrong?”
If she told him this was a personal problem and none of his business, he supposed he would have to let it go. But he wanted her to know he was here for her if she needed a shoulder.
He saw her throat work with a swallow and sensed her internal debate. And then she sighed and shrugged. “Kylie Anderson called me a few minutes ago. Mr. Eddington went into cardiac arrest and died suddenly this afternoon. Half an hour after I left the hospital.”
Ron grimaced. “I’m sorry, Haley. I know he was one of your favorites.”
She blinked rapidly. “Yes. He was a sweet guy. Always smiling and teasing. Though he knew he didn’t have long, he was hoping to go home in the next few days to spend a little more time with his family.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. But don’t forget the burn-out lectures