Chapter Text
Admitting your shortcomings was never easy, especially for someone like James Ogilvie.
James prided himself on being knowledgeable, a fast learner who was able to pick up skills quickly and strived for perfection. He must, however, acknowledge that his social skills tended to be lacking. Not that they were bad per say; his mind just ran a thousand miles a minute and his mouth moved faster than his brain could catch up, often getting him in trouble.
He wasn't the best at reading people either. Sarcasm often flew over his head, and it was hard to tell what people were saying to him with looks alone. Despite that, James thought he had a pretty good read on Dennis Whitaker, but now he’s not so sure.
Logically, James knew that the time he spent away from Dennis would put a damper on their relationship. A year was a long time to speak only sparingly, and he expected to have some awkwardness when they met again as they readjusted to each other. What he hadn't anticipated was the near total reset of their friendship.
Whenever they interacted, Dennis was reserved, a bit stiff in conversation and a far cry from how James remembered him. His behavior made more sense when James learned that there was something going on between him and Dr. Robby. Of course he would move on, it would be ridiculous to think the man would wait around for someone he had no guarantee would return.
As sounds as the logic was, it doesn't keep the disappointment from eating at him.
When Dennis asked to walk home with him, James took it as an offer to rekindle their friendship; if nothing else, he could be satisfied with just being friends with Dennis. He genuinely liked the man, and would much rather have him in his life, in whatever capacity, than not.
Still, there was something that hung heavily in the air between them, remnants of words unspoken begging to be let out. Javadi had asked him once if there was something going on, to which James denied. While she didn't seem to believe him, it was the truth no matter how much James wishes it wasn't.
Perhaps there once was something budding, but the time for that had long passed. And yet, James irrationally holds onto hope anyway. Dennis Whitaker had wormed his way into James’ heart, and the man was reluctant to let him go. Selfishly, he allows himself to toe the line, to see if there really was nothing more to be had. Feelings were hard to bury when the ghosts of what was and what could have been haunted him daily, and as foolish as it may seem, he finds comfort in those memories, proof that he meant something to the man he held most dear.
As the two had gotten to know each other over the course of his rotation last year, James felt himself falling a bit more in love with Dennis each day. The man was kind, intelligent, compassionate to his patients with such an ease that James was envious of. He had a way of lifting others up, believing in them even if they didn’t believe in themselves; James got to experience this firsthand when he lost Mr. Green, a case that would haunt him for the rest of his career.
When Dr. Shamsi finally called it, James could hardly breathe, mind numb to the sound of the machine flatlining in the ER. He doesn’t remember how he got out of the building, running on instinct to get himself somewhere safe, away from his failures and away from mocking eyes he’s sure will follow him.
James didn’t know how long he had been sitting outside when he heard a voice call out to him, pulling him out of the fog. Slowly looking up he sees Dr. Whitaker’s concerned face come into view; visage blurred through the tears that can’t stop pouring out. The man was about to say something when he snaps his mouth closed, looking around until he spots whatever it was he was looking for. He holds out his hands to James; it takes him a moment to reach out and allow himself to be pulled from his spot on the ground.
He’s led to an empty ambulance, Dr. Whitaker gesturing for him to take a seat and looking him over once he’s settled before taking a seat next to him. The man goes on to tell the story of the first patient he lost, similar to his own, where the patient had a gallstone and needed minimal supervision after his diagnosis — a simple issue to be corrected by following the routine standard of care. He explains how the man went into cardiac arrest in the hall and despite his best efforts he was forced to call it after 30 minutes of chest compressions.
“Do you ever get used to it?” James asked, too numb to wince at how weak his voice was.
“No, never,” Dr. Whitaker shakes his head. “And I don’t want to. Grieving the dead is what makes us human and makes the difference between a good doctor and a great one. The day I stop is the day I need to hang up my stethoscope.”
Nodding, James mulls over his words. “I don’t know if I can take another day like today, primary care specialty sounds way better. Pedes maybe.”
Offering him a small smile, Dr. Whitaker replies, “Yeah, maybe. But emergency medicine is special — we meet people on the worst day of their lives and do the best we can to make it better. Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we fail, and sometimes our success looks like failure, but we push on anyways because we love our patients and want to help them in any way we can.”
“How do you deal with it? The failure?” James looks at him with tear filled eyes.
“By reminding myself that each failure is a lesson, a really sucky one,” the corner of his mouth quirks up. “And taking it one day at a time. We’re here for a reason: we’re competent, we’re skilled, and we care. That’s enough to keep coming back.”
Letting out a shuddering breath, James takes some comfort in the man’s words. It’s hard to not take his failure so personally, but perhaps the man is right. Failure often precedes success, advances in science and medicine were built upon a thousand failures before someone finally got it right. Maybe James’ own failures could be thought of the same.
Tonight though, James doesn’t want to think any more, the sweet oblivion of sleep was the sirens call he was desperate to answer. It’s then that he realizes that he’s still in the bloody gown from the OR. He’ll need to go back inside to dispose of it but, god, he doesn’t know if he can face anyone else after today.
“I’ll get rid of it,” Dr. Whitaker offers kindly. “And I’ll grab your stuff from your locker if you want.”
“Thank you,” James whispers, letting his clenched hand finally relax on the ambulance floor.
“Anytime,” Dr. Whitaker replies, resting his hand next to James’, the sides of their hands barely touching. “Do you need a minute?”
“Please,” James nods. Carefully, he reaches his pinky over, lightly tapping Whitaker’s own. The man responds by brushing his own pinky up and resting it on top of James’. Taking it as permission, James locks the finger with his own, giving it a gentle squeeze to which he receives a squeeze back.
James didn’t know how long the two of them sat quietly in that ambulance, certainly longer than appropriate for a resident to disappear for. James is appreciative for it nonetheless, doubly so when the man come back with his bag and his number on a slip of paper, promising to talk with James whenever he needed.
As James watched his retreating figure walk back into the hospital, he knew he was in trouble. He feels almost blind-sided; getting attached to a resident was never a part of his plan, and yet it was nearly impossible for James not to be drawn into the genuine and kind Dr. Whitaker.
If there’s one thing he’s learned from his few days at PTMC it was that you had to be flexible, and he could stand to learn to be a bit more adaptable.
While James had expected things to be awkward after that day, it was anything but. Dennis was gracious enough to not bring up James’ breakdown and the one time he heard whispers about his episode Dennis had quietly shut them down.
By the end of his rotation, James was heartbroken to be leaving the man behind with his impending departure. Despite having his number James barely used it, the two only exchanging a few messages after yet another difficult day to check in with the other. James knew that when he left, unless he managed to match at PTMC he would likely never see Dennis again, and they could never explore the tension that had been slowly growing between them.
At the farewell outing for the med students, James had to step out late into the night. It was overwhelming being one of the main focuses of attention, and he needed the air. Seeing a man struggling under the neon lights of the sign, he notices that it was Whitaker, fumbling with his lighter. Taking pity on the man, James searches through his pocket, grabbing his own lighter out. Approaching the man, he watches as he sways, nearly falling over when James calls out to him.
“Oh! Hey Ogilvie,” he slurs, leaning his body against the building for support.
"Dr. Whitaker…everything okay?" James asks hesitantly.
The man makes a 'psh' sound at him, hand flopping in a wave. "'m fine, just can't get this stupid lighter to work," he mumbles under his breath.
Letting out a quiet sigh, James flicks his lighter to life, offering it to the man, "Here."
"Thanks," Whitaker holds out his cigarette, hand just as wobbly as the rest of him. James reaches out to hold him still, memorizing the feel of Whitaker's hand in his own.
The man gives him an appreciative smile, taking a long drag and releasing the smoke into the air above.
"Shouldn't you be inside for your party?" Whitaker asks, eyeing James.
Shrugging, James replies, "Too many people."
"Fair enough," Whitaker replies with a nod. After a few minutes of them sitting in silence, Whitaker breaks it with another question. "Are you excited to go home?"
"Not really," James admits, leaning back on the wall next to Whitaker. "It's been a few years since I've been home proper, can't say I look forward to it."
"Having a hard time with family?" Whitaker watches him with unfocused eyes.
"Something like that," James confirms.
"Been there," the man snorts, snuffing out his cigarette on the wall. "I'd tell you it gets easier, but I'm not a liar."
James feels the smile crawl on his face despite himself, "Appreciate it."
Letting a moment of quiet pass, James continues the conversation with, "I'm gonna miss it here."
"Really? The Pitt didn't scare you off too bad?" Whitaker asks with a grin.
"The place is a nightmare, but the people make it worth it," James laughs.
Whitaker lets out a laugh of his own, "They sure do! Who're you gonna miss the most? Myrna?"
That startles a cough out of James. "Oh my god," he laughs out. "Yes, absolutely. I'm devastated that I'm leaving Myrna behind." Laughter subsiding to giggles, James licks his lips, debating on if it would be appropriate to say what he wanted to next.
"You're a close second," he says softly, looking out into the sky above. When he doesn't receive a response, James looks down to see the man staring back at him.
"You mean that?" Whitaker whispers into the air between them. James didn't know when the man got so close, but the smell of alcohol and nicotine was prominent.
Nerves get the better of James and all he can do is nod his head. Before he realizes what's happening, hands grip onto his shirt as lips crash into his, Whitaker's warm body pressing close into his own. For a moment James doesn't move, heart soaring at finally knowing what Whitaker's mouth felt like against his own and mind screaming at how wrong this was. The man was obviously intoxicated, heavily so, and as much as James wanted nothing more than to kiss him back, he knew better than that.
Hearing the sound of the door opening behind them spurs James into action, pulling himself away from Whitaker despite the whine the man gives in protest. Looking up his stomach drops when he sees it was Santos and Mohan who stepped out, eyeing them curiously. Even though he knows he did nothing wrong, James feels the need to explain anyway.
"He's, uh, I think he needs to go home," James stammers out frantically. "He can barely hold himself up."
"'m fine," Whitaker slurs, taking a step away from the wall to prove his point and almost falling over until James caught him.
Santos mutters something under her breath as James handed her roommate over to her, not making eye contact with either woman as he rushes past back inside. It's the coward’s way out, and a familiar voice rings in his head about how pathetic he was. It mocks him as he gathers his belongings and gives a final farewell to those still lingering, it follows him back to the room he was subletting, echoing louder against the bare walls and packed suitcases.
What James wouldn't give to have one more day to tell Whitaker how he felt, to see if the man truly returned his affections or if it was all a drunken mistake. He would need to make peace with this loss for now, but he wouldn't consider it a failure, only a setback. He still has Match Day to look forward to, and if he needs to apply for every viable residency in the Pittsburgh area, then so be it.
One more day would become one day soon, of that James was certain.
Working at the Pitt full time took toll on both mind and body that left one completely drained at the end of the day. Despite how numb his mind felt most days, James likes to think that his memory was still very good, even if it wasn't photographic like Joy's. Enough to at least remember if he did or said anything to Dennis that would make the man uncomfortable, but for once he draws a blank.
At first, he thought Dennis was embarrassed about being caught smoking weed by Dr. Robby, but that was over a week ago now and the man still seemed to run the other way every time James so much as looked at him. Then he thought that perhaps there was something going on with him personally and he was being weird with everyone, but when he asked Javadi if she thought he was acting off, she didn't know what he was talking about. Evidently, James was the only one Dennis was avoiding for some reason.
It was disheartening really, James thought the two were building a solid friendship, one unconstrained by a time limit or distance. If he could just figure out what it was that he did, he would apologize to the man immediately, and hopefully he could be forgiven for taking so long.
Letting out a sigh, James exits the patient's room in search of a more senior resident. He spots Dennis immediately at central looking over the patient board. If past experience was anything to go by, the man would likely pass him off to someone else, but James needed to try; this was a special patient, and he would really like Dennis' expertise.
"Dr. Whitaker, may I consult you on a patient?" James asks, startling the man.
"Can you find someone else? I was just about to grab the one in North 3," he responds, not bothering to glance at James' way.
"You're the only one available, and I would appreciate your review," James deflates at the dismissal.
The man lets out a sigh as he holds his hand out. James passes over the chart to him and presents the case: 52-year-old male arrived with complaints of dizziness and confusion, all vitals normal. During his wait both symptoms had cleared up, and he was asking to leave.
"And you want to keep him here because…?" Dennis looks up at him with a raised brow.
"He's a farmer, and he brought himself in," James explains, watching as Dennis' eyes widen comically.
"Jesus, you didn't want to start with that?" Dennis admonishes, rushing over to the patient's room.
When they enter, the man was gathering his coat insisting he was fine and needed to get back to tend the farm. Dennis convinced the man to sit back down, instructing James to take vitals one more time before he left. As James did as he was told, Dennis speaks with the man on his history — when the symptoms started, have they gotten better or worse over time, and why he sought treatment now.
The man explains that he was feeling off for some months now but didn't have the time to get checked out and as the symptoms came and went, didn't feel it was necessary to make the trek out. Today the spell lasted longer than normal, causing his vision to blur so bad he couldn't read the labeling on the feed bags. When his vision recovered, he made his way here due to the local clinic being closed, with the dizziness starting to come back the closer he got to the hospital. Now though, he insisted that he was okay, and asked James for the time so he could figure out how long he had to get his work done for the day.
That was odd. The man had his own watch on his wrist and even looked at it a few times. When James asked if his watch was broken, the man replied that it was brand new and working perfectly. Catching Dennis' eye, James asked the man if he could read it, and after a few attempts he was unsuccessful.
From there Dennis took over, giving the man a full work up and noted the left eye and visual and sensory inattention. He convinces the man to wait for an MRI, promising to push him to the front of the line. When he gets back, they noted a large infarction on the scan; it was incredible the man was even standing let alone working. The man was quickly hooked up to an IV and administered anti-clotting medication and given a referral to cardiology.
"Good work, Whitaker," Dr. Robby praises, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Not many would have caught that," he shoots a look at James, "Keep it up."
"Thank you, sir, but—" Dennis responds, getting cut off as Dr. Robby walks away when called over by Dr. McKay for a consult.
"Sorry about that," Dennis offers an apologetic smile. "It was a really good catch."
Before James can say thank you the man was off, likely back to central to pick up another case and get back to avoiding James. At least when he's called over to help with MVC he can focus his mind on something else. And it's a good reminder that he was at work, friendship drama can wait.
James may have spoken too soon.
After the farmer from earlier that morning, things between him and Dennis seemed to get progressively worse. When the man wasn't avoiding him, he was either passing him off to other residents or rushing through his cases. It even got to the point that Dennis had undermined his treatment plan as soon as he walked into his patient's room.
As soon as the two walked out of the room, James turned to him. "Why did you do that?"
Taken aback, Dennis asks, "Why did I do what?"
"Disregard my treatment plan in front of the patient," James feels his eyebrows come together. "We agreed when I presented to test for HG and then prescribe ondansetron. You walked in and sent her on her way with the prescription."
"That was before I saw her," Dennis explains, "Based on the history HG was likely, but with the state she was in the results wouldn't matter when she needs something for nausea regardless."
"And what about the fluids?" James questioned.
"From the lab results she wasn't technically dehydrated; it would be better for her to get home and rest." Dennis replies.
Mouth forming a line, James understands the reasoning, however it feels uncharacteristically insensitive. "She's pregnant and said she had been vomiting non-stop for three days. You saw how she was laying there; we should've given her a boost to help her recover."
The smaller man lets out a frustrated sigh, "Alright fine, if you think you're right then find someone else to present to."
"What is your problem?" James crosses his arms, eyes narrowing.
"I'm sorry, what?" Dennis raises his brows.
"Whatever I did to make you upset, I'm sorry," James starts. "But if you have an issue with me that's between us, don't take it out on my patients."
Jaw dropping, Dennis' face contorts in indignation. "I don't have a problem with you, and I'm not taking anything out on patients!"
"You're not?" James looks at him in disbelief. "Ms. Coleman was lying out flat, barely responding and you didn't think it was necessary to give fluids? You didn't want to run tests while she was here so we could send the results to her OB to follow up on?"
Seeing Dennis open his mouth to respond, James cuts him off. "You're never this callous to patients and you've been annoyed whenever I needed you. Again, I really am sorry for upsetting you, but I'm not putting up with this. Come find me when you want to talk."
James turns away, leaving a speechless Dennis behind as he finds a nurse to see if they could catch Ms. Coleman and give her fluids anyways. Hearing another set of footsteps fall in line with his own, he turns his head and sees Javadi's wide stare.
"So, that was something," she draws out.
"You heard all at?" James winces, already thinking about the rumors that were sure to be circulating.
"A little hard not to," she confirms. "Are you okay?"
Letting out a sigh, James replies, "I guess. I just wish I knew what was going on."
"You and me both," Javadi laughs out. "I'd ask Santos, but she'd probably kill me if I tried to get her to spill her roommate's secrets."
"I'd rather he just tells me what the problem is," James replies, defeat evident in his voice. "We're adults, we can talk it out."
A snort comes from behind them. "Hate to break it to you Shank, no one around here knows how to communicate," Santos laughs, patting his arm as she walks past, missing the wide-eyed look the two interns gave each other.
How long had she been standing there listening to them? Either she didn't hear them talk about Dennis, or she didn't care and James knew better than to ask her to find out which it was. One thing was for sure — his argument with Dennis was going to be the hot topic of the week.
Later that evening, James receives a text from Dennis telling him that he was sorry about today and would like to talk with him in the morning before shift to clear the air. James agrees easily, eager to move forward and put all this nonsense behind them.
The next morning James arrives 30 minutes earlier than usual. Meeting Dennis by the entrance, the man was already waiting for him with two to-go cups in hand, greeting James with a nod when he spots him and holding a cup out as a peace offering.
“Black, from the shop down the street,” Dennis answers before James could even ask.
Fluttering fills his chest at the fact Dennis knew his coffee order, as simple as it was. Though he forces the feeling down; of course he would know, they were the only two black coffee drinkers in the department. He grabs the cup in thanks, taking a sip and letting the liquid warm him. He watches as Dennis shuffles his feet, glancing at James and then away again. James could start the conversation, but Dennis said he was ready to talk, it was up to him to make the first move.
“I’ve been acting really shitty to you,” Dennis starts. “And I’m sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just…” the man trails off looking conflicted.
“Just what?” James asks.
Biting his lip, Dennis looks away for a moment before taking in a breath. Steeling himself he turns to James and says, “I found out how things ended last year and got embarrassed.”
Last year? Oh.
Blinking at him, the words fly out of James' mouth. “Wait, you didn’t remember that?”
Shaking his head, a flush drapes the man’s cheeks. “No, Santos made a reference to it and had to explain when I had no idea what she was talking about.”
Thank god James listened to his brain back then. “That must’ve been a shock,” James says carefully.
“Yeah, a little bit,” Dennis laughs out humorlessly. “I’m really, really sorry I did that to you, and that I acted like a jerk instead of just talking about it. I completely get it if you don’t wanna be friends and keep things professional and —”
“We’re friends?” James cuts him off, stopping Dennis in his rambling.
Mouth agape, Dennis blinks back at him. “I, thought we were? Was I wrong?” he says, unsure.
“I didn’t think you liked me enough to consider me one,” James admits.
“Didn’t— what?!” The man in front of him sputtered. Looking at him in disbelief, he continues, “Why would you think that? Of course I like you!”
Picking at a loose thread of his sweater, James responds, “Sometimes it’s hard to tell if someone actually likes me or is just being polite.”
A look of understanding dawns on Dennis’ face. “No, I do genuinely like spending time with you. Before I started avoiding you, I was hoping we could make walking home together a habit,” the man finishes bashfully.
James feels his heart soar at the admission. In the few days after the initial walk home, Dennis seemed to seek James out in hopes of catching him before he left for the two to walk together. It was the highlight of the day for James and he sorely missed it.
“If I say I forgive you, can we start those again?” James asks hopefully.
A wide, relieved smile spreads across Dennis’ face, “Absolutely.”
And how James missed that smile — the toothy grin showing off the tiniest gap in his teeth, the crinkling in the corner of his eyes, unabashed joy lighting up his entire face. It was his favorite feature of Dennis, and it was contagious; James couldn’t help but give his own smile in return as the two promised to resume their walks that evening.
When they finally clock out, hours after their scheduled end time they make the trek home in near silence, content with the other’s physical presence. As they reached the end of the bridge, instead of saying goodbye they grab dinner together for the first time at the Thai place around the corner. James also offers Dennis his couch to crash on, seeing how late it was.
“Don’t you need to clear that with your roommate?” Dennis asks.
James waves off his concern. “She’s gone for a business trip; besides she brings her work friends home all the time.”
Setting up the couch with a blanket and a pillow, James lets Dennis shower first and gives him some spare sweatpants and t-shirt. It was a little funny, seeing how the pant legs pooled around his feet and shirt hung slightly off him. Teasing the man about taking care to not trip made it easier to not think about how good he looked wearing James' clothes.
The next morning when Javadi knocks on the door to head in together, she raises her brow at the sight of Dennis but graciously doesn't say anything about it as the three make their way in for another chaotic shift.
A few days later James was chatting with his roommate, catching up on her latest work trip when they heard someone knocking on the door.
"Were you expecting anyone?" Salome asks, glancing at the door and back to James.
"No, were you?" James asks in turn.
Before she could respond a familiar voice calls through the door, "It's just me!"
"I'll get it," Salome rolls her eyes playfully. "What's up, Vic?"
"Sorry to barge in here but," Javadi pauses for effect. "I. Have. Tea."
Shutting the door behind her Salome responds, "Should I break out the wine?"
As Javadi nods her head James takes a look at the time and asks, "Couldn't this have waited until tomorrow?"
"No," "No!" the two women respond simultaneously.
Alright, so much for going to bed early. Letting out a defeated sigh, James dutifully grabs the wine glasses from the cabinet above the sink, setting them on the coffee table as the three gather around.
"Alright girl, spill," Salome says as she pours everyone a glass.
"So, I was talking with Emma today and she asked me if Whitaker, sorry Dennis,” she quickly clarifies, “Was alright after Dr. Robby yelled at him in the stairwell last week," Javadi starts. "Apparently, he reamed into Dennis about a patient flirting with him and ever since, Dennis has been walking on eggshells around him."
"Wait, you mean Mr. Thurman? The guy that would flirt with a paper bag?" James pauses in his sip.
"I guess so, but that's not all," Javadi leans in with wide eyes. "Remember how you said Dr. Robby’s been acting weird around you? The nurses have been talking about how he’s been excluding you from cases and they've been instructed a few times not to help you with procedures. I think he heard the rumors that you two had a fling last year and he's jealous," Javadi concludes.
Tightening his grip on his glass, James feels no satisfaction in the knowledge that he was right. At least he wasn’t the only one that saw something was off when Dr. Robby interacted with him, but jealousy?
"We didn't have a fling last year, although Dennis did kiss me," James admits, ignoring the gasps from the other two in the room.
"Dennis kissed you?" Javadi practically screamed, leaning over the table.
"It was a drunken mistake, he didn't even remember it," James shakes his head. "Besides, it shouldn't matter since he's with Dr. Robby now anyways, right?"
"Not exactly," Javadi pauses, face contemplative. "I overheard Dana mumbling about Dr. Robby’s flings in other departments stopping in to see him, so they’re not exclusive."
Salome pours herself a refill, topping off James' and Javadi's glasses. "Sounds like a nightmare of a situationship," she winces sympathetically.
"Exactly," Javadi nods enthusiastically. "Which is why you need to make your move!" she points at James.
Choking mid-sip, James puts down his glass, coughing into his arm. "Me?"
"Yes you," Javadi rolls her eyes. "You guys always have this longing look whenever you watch each other. And that walk into work the other day? I saw how you two kept brushing hands, you're not slick." She finishes with narrow eyes, taking a long drink from her cup.
"It is pretty cute watching you talk about him," Salome adds, offering a kind smile.
James opens his mouth and closes it again. He knew how he felt about the other man, but did he feel the same? They just got on the same page about being friends, was James willing to risk it based on a bunch of rumors?
"I won't deny that I like him, but," he cuts in on the two cheering. "How would I know that he feels the same?"
"Trust me, he does," Javadi responds. Seeing the blank stare from James, she continues. "I'm serious, you should've seen how upset he was when he saw you and Miles together. Wait," a grin crawls on her face. "Next time someone flirts with you in front of him, watch how jealous he gets."
It's a compliment, really, that Javadi thinks he gets flirted with often enough to try her suggestion. Even if he did, he would need to be able to recognize that it was happening; unless the person makes their intentions abundantly clear, James assumes they're just being friendly. But it was an option to keep in mind, unlikely as it was.
"Fine, if it comes up, I'll give it a shot," James concedes. "I still don’t understand what a situationship is. Are they together or not?”
"Somewhere in between," Salome hums, "It’s just an undefined relationship with what sounds like a whole lot of mess. But that’s not your problem to worry about, you can’t be a homewrecker if there’s no home to wreck."
Gathering the empty glasses, James mulls it over. It was a big risk, but the reward would be worth it a thousand-fold. And why shouldn't James go after what he wants? He's never stopped himself before, so why should he start now if Dennis reciprocated his feelings?
Saying goodbye to Javadi, likely off to give Joy a recap, James retires to his room.
The more he thought it over, the more he believed that Salome and Javadi were right. It was obvious Dr. Robby was squandering what he had, and he already didn’t like James so it’s not like he had anything to lose in that regard. Besides, Dennis was a grown man, if he decided he needed something more than what Dr. Robby could provide, he was well within his rights to find it somewhere else.
Honestly, if the man truly wanted to keep Dennis to himself, he should have committed. He can only blame himself when Dennis slips through his fingers and falls right into James’ hand.