The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) by Bella Forrest (ebook reader for laptop TXT) 📗

Especially since it had been a week, and Violet still hadn’t come by to see me.

Not that I could blame her—I had been an unmitigated jerk to her. It wasn’t her fault that I was having a hard time coping with the transition after surgery. It had just taken me a little bit to process what I was feeling, and a lot of reminding myself that I could get better—that I would get better.

Now I was more than determined: If she wouldn’t come to me, I was going to go to her. Under the power of my own two feet.

And then I was going to make it up to her, even if I had to apologize three hundred times a day for a year.

The entire process had been miserable without her. I wished I had realized it sooner, but having her around would have made it more worthwhile. Because while I knew I felt good at my own successes, nothing would’ve beat seeing the pride in her eyes. Her happiness at my progression might even have spurred me on faster.

My right leg started shaking but I held it steady, waiting for the doctor to give me the go-ahead to lower it.

“And now,” she announced, clicking her pen.

I lowered my leg to the bed quickly and shook both legs back and forth, trying to ease the burn in them. I sat up on my forearms and looked at her. “So?”

“We’ll give your legs a bit of rest, and then get you started on the rails,” she announced.

I grinned in genuine pleasure. “Thanks, Doc,” I said.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet. I get to be there when you go walking back to Violet. I am going to enjoy that particular evisceration. I might even patch you up afterward.”

She said this with a wink, but I sighed, resting back on my hands. “I know, I know. I was an arrogant, self-centered… Patrian.”

“Yes, yes you were,” she agreed amiably as she sashayed back to her desk.

She had been pretty vocal about reminding me of all my shortcomings, but in spite of that, I had come to like Dr. Tierney. With Violet so angry at me, I had come to rely on the doctor for information and conversation. No one else came to visit me—I had yet to even meet the mysterious Desmond who apparently led these people. I had gathered that she was supposed to be brilliant but beyond that, I knew more about the doctor, Owen, Quinn, and some girl named Amber I had yet to meet, than I knew about Desmond. She was an enigma, and I was looking forward to meeting her and getting to the heart of the matter.

After I patched things up with Violet, of course.

There was a sharp knock at the door, and Dr. Tierney went to open it. I saw Owen and an older woman with grey hair in the hallway through the window—anyone else who might be there was being blocked by the doctor’s body.

The doctor spoke in a soft tone, and then stepped aside to let a young man I hadn’t seen before enter. I froze when I realized he had gray eyes, just like Violet’s.

Suddenly nervous, I pushed myself up to a sitting position so that I could see the boy better. He stared at me, and then stepped into the room slowly, taking care not to brush against anything. Owen and the woman stayed in the hall, and Dr. Tierney stepped into it, closing the door behind her.

I stared at the boy I was certain was Timothy Bates, unsure of what to say.

“Hello,” he murmured.

“Hello,” I replied. “You… you must be Tim.”

Tim nodded and took a step toward me. “Sick,” he said, nodding toward the machine.

It was my turn to nod. “Yes, but getting better.”

“Lucky,” he replied, tilting his gaze around the room.

I frowned and leaned forward. His head snapped back to me, eyes studying me intently. “Why?” he asked finally, and my frown intensified in confusion.

“Why what?”

He gave me an irritated look. “Violet—why?”

Comprehension dawned on me and I blew out.

This was… not going to be easy.

“Tim, it’s… complicated,” I hedged.

Tim frowned and then shook his head. “Love?”

I stalled, clueless as to how to answer the question. The feelings I felt for Violet were deep… and complicated. I didn’t know where we’d stood before my little tantrum, and I was even more uncertain now.

“I… uh.” I gulped. “I care a lot for your sister,” I managed, and he nodded.

“Good,” he replied. “Tell her.”

I let out a breath and shook my head. “It’s not so… simple,” I replied and he shook his head.

“No. Tell her. Say sorry. It’s enough.”

“That’s what I’m planning to do,” I protested. “I’m just trying to get my feet under me so I can do it.”

Tim frowned, then shook his head again, more vigorously this time. “No. Now. She’s… sad.”

“But I—”

“Violet talks about you,” Tim said, interrupting me. “Told me stories. ‘Viggo is brave, Tim. He’s so good, so kind, so caring. Treats me like a person.’” Tim’s eyes met mine, and I could see tears in them. “Not a person,” he whispered, touching his chest with his fingers. “Monster. But you… you’re… a person. She’s a person. She needs you. You need her. So, now!”

I opened my mouth to reply, but the words stuck in my throat as he abruptly turned and walked out of the room. I watched as he stopped in front of the older woman. She asked him something and he nodded, holding his head high. Then the older woman flashed a glance at me, and I gaped at her… This was Desmond. The resemblance between her and Lee was too clear to me as I caught sight of her eyes.

She said something to Owen, who then left with Tim. Desmond let herself in and I settled back into my pillows, studying her.

“Mr. Croft, we haven’t met yet, but I’m—”

“Desmond Bertrand,” I announced for her, and she smiled, the lines beside her eyes crinkling.

“Indeed. How are you