Work Text:
“…um…again…I'm sorry, Katie -”
The blonde woman scoffed. “For the last time, my name is Kathy. KA-THY!”
Robby sighed as the door slammed in his face. He couldn’t say it wasn’t warranted. He also couldn’t say he was sad to be leaving.
The neighbor across the hall cracked their door open, peeked out, and smirked at Robby before shutting the door again.
Robby ducked his head and rushed down the hall to the elevator, desperate to get out of there. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as he eyed his reflection in the mirrored door and scoffed at the man staring back at him: a restless, 50-year-old man whose lines on his face seemed more prominent than they had that morning.
The elevator dinged, and he stepped in, his head fell back against the wall, suddenly exhausted.
He’d met her at the gym. She always made sure to work out on the treadmill next to his, throwing him smiles. There had been no subtlety in her flirting, but Robby had tried to ignore it. He'd only been going to the gym because his therapist suggested it would help him work through his depression, anxiety, and a half-century of regrets. He wasn’t looking to date anyone, but when she found out he was a doctor, her interest tripled. She was a biology professor and insisted they should go out to dinner because they had so much in common.
He didn’t know why he agreed to go, but he did.
The first date went fine. He didn’t hate it, and it led to a second. After dinner at an Italian restaurant, he walked her back to her apartment. She had been giving signals that she wanted to sleep with him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her, but he went with it. Who am I saving myself for?
She’d led him to her bedroom as she stripped off her clothes and pulled him in for a kiss. She slid her hand inside his jeans, trying to get him aroused. He'd kissed her back and moaned out a name into her mouth.
Heather .
She'd recoiled away from him like he’d turned into a venomous snake.
He didn’t know why he said it because Katie, Kathy, whoever she was, was nothing like Heather. Her scent wasn't intoxicating. She didn't have soft, beautiful skin that felt like silk and glowed like the sun. Her smile didn’t light up any room she was in, and she didn’t have that perfect voice that could both soothe and eviscerate in the same melodic tone.
She was nothing like Heather.
But all he could think about, in that moment, was how much he wished it had been her in his arms.
He’d been trying to move on ever since they broke up years ago. But every time he dated someone else, slept with someone else, all he thought about was her and compared everyone to her: her laugh, how her eyes danced when she was excited, how she bit her lip when she was close to the edge, how she ran her fingers through his hair, mussing it on purpose, how a simple peck on the lips and her arms wrapped around his waist was a balm to his soul at the end of a rough day.
Most of all, he missed their quiet intimacy: lying on the couch watching old game shows, reading their books in comfortable silence, whispered conversations late at night, when it felt like it was only them in the world.
No one had ever come close to her before or after.
How was he supposed to move on when he still saw her on more days than not? He spent at least 12 hours a day with her, working to save lives, and had come to crave that undeniable tension between them of what used to be, what could have been, and what was. It held him together most days. Just seeing her face across the chaos made his whole body exhale in relief.
He looked for her when he was stressed, or when a loved one’s grief overwhelmed him and he needed someone to ground him. He watched her to make sure she was okay, to see if she ever needed him as an anchor.
How are you supposed to get over someone you loved that deeply?
“Or still love,” he muttered to himself as he exited the elevator and walked out of the apartment building.
The streets were lively with the energy of a Saturday night. Cars rushed by, and college-aged adults talked loudly as they headed into various bars. Loud music drifted in and out through the night air. He wandered around, directionless. He didn’t want to be around people, but he also didn’t want to go back to his empty house. A house that still held the memories of his relationship with Heather like a time capsule that refused to be buried.
Robby felt ancient walking these streets, leaving from a bad hook-up like he was still in his 20s. He had never really dreamed of a wife and kids, but his younger self thought he would have it eventually. It was drilled into him that it was just something people were supposed to do.
There had been a few long-term relationships before, but he never felt ready to buy a ring until Heather. He’d go to jewelry stores just to look, he told himself, wondering if he would find a ring worthy of her, wondering if she’d say yes if he ever asked.
But then he let his bullshit get in the way of what could have been a beautiful life together.
Since she told him about the abortion, he’d lie awake with thoughts of a life lost. Dreams of making a home with Heather and a little girl. They always had a baby girl in his dreams. One who looked just like Heather, brilliant like her, but sarcastic like him. He thought about it so often, dreamed about it so vividly, the fantasy had almost become real. He’d wake up, startled to find Heather wasn’t in bed beside him.
At his age, the constant tick of his biological clock was starting to haunt him. Jake had been a great addition to his life. He loved the kid and was grateful for him, but Jake was nearly an adult now, and their relationship still had its ups and downs after PittFest.
Now, in quiet moments when he couldn’t hide from himself, he spent his time grappling with his choices, wondering what could have been if he’d made different decisions, if he had been mentally healthy.
He stopped walking, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Tilting his head back, he looked up at the stars and wanted to scream, but instead, a choked, humorless laugh escaped.
“You’re an idiot, Robinavitch,” he said to himself.
Sometimes, he was so tired of going deep into his own head. So tired that therapy made him think and contemplate more than he wanted to, instead of simply burying his feelings like he had for so many years.
He thought about ducking into one of the emptier bars that lined the street, grabbing a drink, drowning his sorrows. A wave of déjà vu hit him as he looked up and down the street he was on.
It dawned on him.
Heather’s apartment was only a few blocks away. When they were together, they used to walk to this neighborhood often, usually to her favorite jazz bar, for a few drinks and to unwind.
As if it were kismet, he looked into the window of said bar across the street and there she was. Standing with a couple of her girlfriends, framed by the big picture window.
She looked incredibly beautiful in a fitted black top tucked with a matching long skirt with a high slit up the side, revealing glimpses of her thigh-high boots. A red leather jacket was draped casually over her shoulders. Her hair looked freshly cut, shorter than when he’d seen her just the day before. Soft coils framed her perfect face, accentuating her high cheekbones.
He watched greedily, like a man who hadn’t eaten in weeks, as she hugged her the two women and waved to them as they left through the back entrance. She picked up her phone, and as if she somehow sensed eyes on her, she looked up. Their eyes met through the window.
The corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk, and her eyes widened. He didn’t know what to do, so he just waved.
And then her face erupted into that beautiful smile, the one that never failed to fill his heart with joy.
She slid her phone into her purse and pointed toward the front entrance of the bar. He hurried across the street to meet her.
The smile was still on her face as she stepped outside, folding her arms over her chest as the cool air rustled around them, pushing her top up just enough to expose her belly ring.
He tore his eyes away before the image stirred too many memories, memories she probably wouldn’t appreciate him having in that moment.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she said, her voice cutting through the energy of the night.
He nodded, digging his hands deep into his coat pockets. “Yeah. I forgot this was close to your neighborhood.”
“Mmm,” she leaned back against the brick of the building. “I guess it’s been a long time since you’ve been to my apartment.”
“Two years, three months, one week, and six days,” He shrugged. “But who’s counting?” He took a small step closer to her.
She tilted her head to the side and met his stare. “Are you serious, or are you just making up numbers?”
He wanted to tell her how often he’d thought about the last time in her apartment. The last time they gave in to their undeniable physical attraction. The last time he whispered I love you into her ear. And the last time, she told him it could never happen again. That she couldn’t keep going back to him.
It may not have been the exact number, but it was close. Because living with regret like that makes you remember every detail.
But instead, he said, “Making things up. It’s been over two years, though.”
She nodded, her eyes drifting into a faraway gaze. He wanted to believe she was thinking about their last night together too. He wondered if she ever thought about it as much as he did.
She focused back on him, eyes narrowed in curiosity. “So, what are you doing out tonight?”
“Just out,” he said. “How about you?”
She gestured back to the bar she was leaning against. “They have great tapas here. Had some good drinks with my girls, Lynn and Toni.”
Robby thought back to a few parties and get-togethers he attended with Heather. “I remember them. How have they been?”
“Oh, they’re good. It’d been a while since we got to chance to hang together. It was nice to catch up.” She reached out to straighten the lapel of his wool jacket. His breath caught at her touch.
“You’re wearing your good coat,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “Your good shirt and jeans too. Just to walk around and look through bar windows?”
He just smiled and shook his head as he looked down. “Just out,” he repeated.
She raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. “Out on a date?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d call it much of a date. Pretty sure I won’t ever see her again.” He shook his head again and looked down. “But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that.”
“Mmm. I don’t mind hearing about your dating life, Robby,” Heather saidwho.
“Well, that’s where we differ,” he replied. “Because I don’t think I could take hearing about yours.”
“We hadn’t been together for so long —” she started, but Robby cut her off.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Aren’t we at the part of this back and forth where we’re friends and can tell each other these things?” Her voice was low, and her eyes were searching. He didn’t know if she was serious or giving him some kind of test, because she knew him better than anyone. And she knew he was still desperate for her.
Robby’s mouth opened to reply, but he was surrounded by a group of drunk young women. Their wardrobes clued him in that they were a traveling bachelorette party. The bride-to-be wore a short white dress with Bride written across the front and a veil perched on her head.
They had obviously been partying for a while and were very drunk.
One of the women stopped, looked Robby up and down, and said, “You’re a cute one. Definitely a DILF.” She turned to another woman. “Tara, look at him. Look how hot he is.” She grabbed his bicep. “Oh, you’re a big and strong one,” the woman said to him.
Robby’s neck turned the color of a ripe tomato. Heather looked on, amused, and quirked an eyebrow at him as he scratched behind his ear, clearly flustered, silently praying for those ladies to move on quickly.
Heather took pity on him and stepped in. “Now you ladies know you shouldn’t touch strangers like that. It’s harassment, and that’s no good.”
The woman looked over at Heather. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I’m just drunk as fuck. Didn’t mean to.”
The bride glanced from Robby to Heather. “Oh, wait, Krista. I think they’re together. Is she your girl? Y’all are hot together. Forgive us for intruding!”
“Very hot,” Tara said. “I’d watch a sex tape of you two. Make an Only Fans!”
The women whopped and cackled, as they rushed down the street before disappearing into a bar a block up.
Robby and Heather stared at each other in disbelief before cracking up themselves.
“Umm… was that real?” Robby asked, glancing toward where the women had disappeared.
“I think it was surreal,” Heather said, shaking her head.
“Thanks for the save, by the way.”
Heather threw up her hands. “Oh, I meant it. That was harassment. They shouldn’t have done that to you.”
Robby nodded, his eyes locked on hers. He knew he stared at her a lot. Dana once told him he was always too obvious that he stared holes into Heather’s soul every time she passed by him in the EC. But he couldn’t help himself. Her beauty, her expressions, her essence , he got so lost in her, it was hard to look away.
Heather stared back at him. Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore he saw her breath hitch saw the slight rise and fall of her chest quicken, her posture stiffen. His own heart began to race. She could read him better than anyone, and he knew she saw everything in his eyes.
She broke eye contact first, bit her lip, and looked down. He exhaled deeply at the sight, wishing he could brush his lips against hers.
“Are you ever going to answer my question?” she asked softly.
Robby shook himself out of his trance. “Question?”
“What I asked you before you were accosted. Aren’t we friends?”
He chuckled quietly and looked away from her. “Friends,” he repeated. “You’re probably my best friend. Or was. Before I ruined everything, but I can never be just friends with you. You know that.”
“Do I?” she asked. “After all we’ve been through. We can at least be friends.”
“You really think I could just be friends with you?” Robby said.
His eyes moved down her face to her lips, then back up again. The heat and fire between them turned into an inferno.
Heather closed her eyes and took a step back. She exhaled slowly, as if trying to gather her wits. When she opened her eyes again, she looked straight at him, then diverted her gaze down the sidewalk.
Her phone buzzed, breaking the tension. She took it out of her purse and checked the messages.
Robby studied her face as her mouth slowly downturned into a frown. She sighed and shook her head, typing something quickly on the phone before tossing it back into her purse.
“Everything okay?” he asked. He knew the look she had on her face too well: disappointment.
She shrugged. “Yeah.” She looked at him as if she didn’t know if she should say more, “It’s,” she hesitated, “someone else I'm meeting here…my date, Daniel. He’s running an hour late.”
“Oh,” Robby said. A smack upside the head with a brick would be less painful at that moment than learning Heather was waiting for a date.
Heather nodded. “Not a good first impression, though.” She exhaled again and muttered something under her breath he couldn’t discern.
“You okay, Heather?” Robby asked, eyeing her closely
“Why wouldn’t I be? You okay?” she shot back.
“Did I do something to upset you…” Robby trailed off, sensing something was off.
Heather shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.” She gave him a small smile. “It’s not you. You know how I feel about people not keeping their word, not showing up on time.”
“I know it well.” He stepped a little closer and lowered his voice. “But I don’t know,” Robby said. “I don’t think it’s a good sign that he’s running late, leaving you here like this. That’s not how you treat someone you’re trying to court.”
Heather raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “ Court ? What century are you in, Robby?”
“I finally made it to the 21st century,” he quipped. “But I’m just saying I would’ve never done that to you.”
Heather tilted her head, narrowed her eyes. A beat passed. “Do you really want to go there, Robby?” she asked.
Robby froze, unsure of what to say. From the look on her face, he knew she had a very specific moment in mind when he’d messed up similarly, but he wasn’t sure which one. Still, he had the good sense to look contrite.
She shook her head. “Never mind. Since my date is running late, do you want to join me in the bar?”
Robby met her eyes with confusion. “You want me to sit and wait with you? Until your date gets here?”
“Take it or leave it,” she said. “It’s cold out here. I’m going inside.”
Without another word, she turned and walked through the door.
Robby hesitated for a moment, then followed her inside.
A welcome nostalgia hit him as he walked in. The bar was as upscale as he remembered. A mix of jazz and R&B played softly, just Heather’s style. The crowd was diverse in age but skewed older. He probably never would’ve gone there if not for Heather, but somehow, it felt like coming home.
He tried not to leer at the sway of her hips in her tight skirt as he followed her as she weaved through the tables. He was close enough to smell her signature scent. He subtly breathed it in.
A couple of people waved to her as they passed. Robby wasn’t surprised. She was loved wherever she went.
She didn’t stop until she reached the spacious back room where the pool tables were. It was far more upscale than your typical pool hall. The tables were crafted from deep, dark wood, and the green felt tops looked immaculate like they were replaced regularly.
Robby smirked as he followed her in. “You wanna play pool?” he asked, running his hand over one of the tables. “Remember the last time we played? I beat you.”
Heather scoffed. “You must be losing your memory. You’ve never once beaten me at pool.”
“I’m pretty sure I won once or twice,” Robby said with a grin.
“Nope,” Heather replied. “I used to keep a tally of my wins in my journal. I know for a fact you’ve never beaten me.”
“That’s such a Heather thing to do,” Robby said, shaking his head and laughing. He missed those little quirks more than he cared to admit.
“Exactly because winning…”
“...never gets old,” he finished for her. “You’ve told me that plenty of times. Still, I’m convinced I won at least once.”
“You must’ve dreamed it, because it never happened in the real world.”
“No, no. I swear I beat you at this exact table in the summer of 2019. August, I think.”
Heather wrinkled her nose. “No, you didn’t.”
“Pretty sure I did.”
“Not even once,” Heather said. “I don’t think you’ve ever beaten me at anything. Cards, Monopoly, Scramble, Wheel of Fortune - ”
“You mean when we’d stay up late watching reruns on the couch?”
“Exactly. I solved all the puzzles first. I’m just a winner,” she said, smirking.
“I can’t argue with that,” Robby said, staring at her in open admiration.
A petite woman with an accent that reminded Robby of his residency days in New Orleans came by to take their drink orders. Heather asked for a glass of Bordeaux and a separate glass of water, and he ordered Whiskey neat.
“So, are you ready for your butt-whooping?” she teased.
Robby raised his eyebrows and looked her up and down suggestively as he leaned over the pool table. “If you’re offering.”
Heather threw her hands up. “Ugh, I can’t with you. I hate you.”
“I know you do,” Robby said with a smile.
“So, what are we playing for?” Heather asked.
Robby grinned. “Your heart.”
Heather groaned, rolling her eyes. “I should’ve never let you watch Love & Basketball with me.”
Robby handed her a pool cue before grabbing his own. She leaned over the table, carefully lining up the white cue ball to break the rack. With a sharp, clean strike, the balls scattered across the table in a perfect break.
She straightened up, shot him a look, and said, “See? Always a winner.”
Heather stalked around the pool table like a big cat eyeing her prey. Her expression was intense as she studied the layout, contemplating which ball to hit next. Robby moved with her, not to compete, but to admire, watching the way her eyes narrowed in focus, the way she celebrated with a grin when she sank another shot, the way she teased him every time he missed a shot.
The heel of her boots tapped in rhythm against the hardwood floor. Every so often, she’d lightly sing or hum along with whatever song played through the speakers, her voice melodic, intoxicating, reminding him of the way she used to whisper in his ear when their bodies were tangled together.
He followed her movements, memorizing every tick, every feature, every little expression. And though he was standing right beside her, though she was close enough to touch, he missed her. Missed seeing her like this every day.
“So, what does this Daniel do?” Robby finally asked. He couldn’t keep his curiosity about her date at bay
“I thought you didn't want to hear about my dates.”
“Humor me. So what does Daniel do?”
“It’s Dr. Daniel,” Heather corrected.
Robby just nodded. “Another doctor, huh?”
“Mmhmm. We met at a mixer one of my friends put together,” Heather said.
“Which one?” Robby asked. “Joan? Mya?”
She paused, surprised. “I can’t believe you still remember all my friends.”
“I remember everything about you,” he said softly.
She looked at him for a long moment, like she wanted to say something more. But instead, she focused on chalking her pool cue.
Robby filled the silence. “I never liked those mixers.”
“I know,” Heather said with a knowing smirk. “You hate small talk. Getting to know new people has never really been your thing.”
“You really do know me,” he replied, offering a small smile. “So what kind of doctor is Daniel?”
“He’s a dermatologist.”
Robby scoffed. “Ah, so he took the easy way out.”
“Robby,” Heather warned, her tone sharp. “Don’t start.”
“What?” he said, holding up his hands. “I’m just saying.”
“Enough about Daniel,” Heather said, pivoting the conversation. “Tell me more about your date.”
Robby shrugged. “Not much to tell. We went out a couple of times. After tonight, we both realized we’re just not compatible.”
Not even a pack of wild prairie dogs could drag the truth out of him that he’d accidentally moaned her name during an almost-hookup with Katie…Kathy.
Heather nodded slowly. “Okay. That’s it?”
“She’s a biology professor at the University of Pittsburgh,” Robby offered.
“That’s interesting,” Heather said.
He shrugged. “Not really.”
“Tomorrow’s a new day,” she said gently. “Anything can happen. Maybe you’ll feel differently and decide to call her again.”
Robby rubbed the back of his neck, irritation flaring up at her trying to push him towards another woman.
“Doubtful,” he muttered.
Heather glanced at him, then asked, “So what made you two incompatible?”
He paused, debating whether to tell her the truth. Then, quietly, he said, “She just wasn’t the person I wanted to be with.”
His eyes met hers, and in that moment, the air between them shifted: charged, electric, impossible to ignore.
“And who is it that you do want to be with?” she asked softly, barely above a whisper.
Robby folded his arms and gazed down at his feet. “You really gonna make me say it?”
“Yeah,” Heather said. “Say it.”
“She’s not you,” Robby said. “None of them are you. And none of them could ever be you. I’m ruined for anyone that’s not you.”
He exhaled, his voice thick. “I’m just wasting away in limbo. Can’t be with the love of my life, and don’t want to be with anyone else. You’re it for me, Heather, the only future I want is with you.”
“Robby—” Heather began, then shook her head and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s fine,” Heather replied. “It’s just…”
She let out a short, humorless laugh. “It’s just you’re unbelievable.”
“What?” he asked, brow furrowed.
“When we were together, I practically begged you to let me in. To just talk to me. To say how you felt. But you didn’t. You shut down. And in the end I felt completely alone. Even when you were sitting right next to me, I was alone.”
She drew in a breath, steadying herself.
“And now…now you show up saying all the things I needed to hear back then. But I’m not in that place anymore. I’ve been trying to move on from everything. The miscarriages. The guilt. The abortion. The pain we never talked about. All of it. And now you come back with this .”
She turned away from him, taking her glass of water and drowning in a few short gulps. He watched the back of her, how she tensed up. He felt the guilt of how he had treated her gather in his chest like a boulder.
“I was wrong,” Robby said. “Maybe I finally realized just how badly I treated you. It was awful, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I probably still don’t deserve you, but I want to try. I want another chance. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn that.”
She turned back toward him and he held her gaze, steady and unflinching. “And whether you give me that chance or not, nothing will ever make me stop loving you.”
Heather exhaled softly. “And I hate that I still love you.”
Robby’s heart twisted. Part of him shattered at her pain, but another part lit up at the confession proof that she hadn’t let him go completely.
But he didn’t see it as a win. He knew love wasn’t enough. There was a long road ahead, one filled with real change and healing. If he ever wanted a real future with her, he’d have to become the man she truly deserved.
Still, she loved him. And that gave him just enough to keep going to try to become worthy of her and her love.
“Is it the hate or the love that’s stronger?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Depends on the day and how much you’ve pissed me off.”
“So, most days, you hate me?”
That got a genuine laugh out of her. “You really do know me,” she said, echoing his words from earlier.
She set her pool cue down and met his gaze. “Seriously, Robby. I don’t want to hate you, and I don’t want to fight with you. I do love you. But…” she sighed, her voice tight. “But I just don’t know if I can do this with you again. Even if I still think about the what-ifs. Even if I still believe I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you.”
She paused, blinking back tears. “That kind of heartbreak…I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
Robby’s eyes filled with tears. Her pain, raw, honest, radiated off her and hit him straight in the chest. And all he could feel was that he had caused it.
She wiped at her eyes. “At least I had the sense to put on waterproof mascara tonight.”
“I’m sorry,” Robby said. It was all he knew how to say right now.
“I’m sorry too,” she replied.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said gently.
“I had my own secrets I kept from you,” she admitted, her voice soft, referring to the abortion.
“And I forgave you for that. Not that you ever needed my forgiveness,” he said, wiping at his own eyes.
She let out a short laugh. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”
“We are.”
She sighed. “But I can’t say this wasn’t a good night before all the tears. It almost felt like old times.”
“Best night I’ve had in a long time,” he said.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I missed this.”
“Heather—” Robby started, but he was interrupted.
A man who was the definition of tall, dark, and undeniably handsome stepped into the pool room. His skin had the same rich, dark tone as Heather’s.
“Heather,” he said, his voice smooth and commanding.
Heather turned around. “Oh. There you are. You’re here.” Her tone was light, but Robby caught the subtle surprise in her eyes as if she almost forgot she was waiting for a date.
Suddenly feeling like the third wheel, Robby slipped his hands into his pockets.
Daniel leaned in and kissed Heather on the cheek. She smiled up at him, though Robby noted it lacked its usual warmth. Still, it was enough to make his heart clench.
Heather gestured toward Robby. “Daniel, this is a friend… a colleague. Colleague and friend. Dr. Robby. Robby this is Dr. Daniel Jackson.
Daniel extended a hand, already recognizing the name. “Ah, Dr. Robinovitch. Yes, I’ve heard of you. Read a few articles about how you handled that mass shooting a few months ago. Impressive work.”
Robby accepted the handshake. “Thanks. It went as well as it could have, given the circumstances. But honestly, it’s something I wish never happened.”
“Understandable,” Daniel said with a nod. “So, you two were just playing pool?”
“Yeah,” Heather said quickly. “While I was waiting, Robby kept me company.”
“You know, since you were running late,” Robby added casually, with a hint of bite.
Heather shot him a warning look.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Daniel said. “Got caught up.”
“Dermatology emergency?” Robby asked, unable to resist.
Heather’s eyes narrowed on him, clearly catching the sarcasm.
The air between the three of them grew awkward, charged with something unspoken. Daniel glanced between them, picking up on the subtle tension even if he didn’t understand what was going on.
Heather looked at her watch. “We should probably get our date started.”
Robby nodded. “Guess that’s my cue.” He turned to Daniel. “Nice to meet you.”
“Heather,” Robby said, his gaze lingering on her. “I’ll see you Monday.” He extended his hand for a handshake.
She hesitated for a beat, then bit her lip to hide a hint of a smile as she took his hand. He held it a little longer than necessary. “Monday. That’s a new day, isn’t it, Dr. Robby?”
He held her gaze and gave a small, knowing smile. “Yes, it is, Dr. Collins. There’s always a new day.”
Outside, the chill had deepened. Robby tugged his coat closed and shoved his hands into his pockets.
As he reached the sidewalk, he couldn’t help but glance back through the window. Heather and Daniel had emerged from the back and made their way to a table. Daniel studied the menu, but Heather wasn’t paying attention to him.
She was looking at Robby.
Their eyes met. And they smiled.