(Revised 6/15/22)

Chapter 8: Diagnosis

With his lips being pried apart by Julie's probing hands, Donovan lay on her cot. Pain shot from his gum line to where the cheek connected in front of his eye tooth. He got a whiff of whatever perfume Julie had sampled at the store as she leaned close, dabbing at the cut with a swab doused in antiseptic.

Donovan stared straight into those beautiful blue eyes, the ones that sparkled with anger when she was mad or looked glazed over when she had been happy. He found it difficult to accept how much he had grown apart from her these past few months. Sean could not be more wrong about Julie's feelings for Donovan. But Donovan hoped Sean was wrong about what Diana had said…

If Juliet Parrish could never have kids, then Donovan thought maybe she should know that now rather than later. He wondered how she would take it, even though he knew finding a partner and settling down was the last thing on her mind.

"Well, I don't think you'll need stitches, but I don't think you'll be eating grapefruit anytime soon." She drew away and placed the swab on top of the trashcan, overstuffed with papers, by her desk. "I'm not even certain you'll want spaghetti either. Maybe we'll have something else for dinner."

"What do you have?"

"What do you want?" she asked.

He thought if she were not in such a serious mood, he would tease her about getting back together.

He winked at her. "What do you have to offer me, Julie?"

She paused, as if she realized he was toying with her, then slowly asked, "What kind of food do you want, Michael?"

Michael… she had not called him that since they were together. Maybe she was not so opposed to getting back together.

But how would it work with Sean?

Julie turned and placed the cotton swabs back in a plastic container, then put the antiseptic on the nightstand by her bed. Donovan watched her intently as she moved about.

"What happened to the Beef Burgundy?" he asked.

"It's in the fridge. I thought I would save it for tomorrow."

"Well, I can help you make it if you want me to."

"Would you um…" She stared at him, "Finish peeling the potatoes and carrots."

"I owe you one." Donovan stood, and without a warning, he bent down and pecked Julie on the cheek, then muttered, "Thanks."

For a brief few seconds, Julie looked stunned. "You're welcome."