The hospital lot wasn't crowded. Foreman knew all the tricks for getting to his parking space in the least amount of time. Amber had only repeated what he'd tried to tell her in the first place. It wouldn't be fair for either one of them to act like the entire relationship was 'up to them'. He wasn't alone in this, or at least, he hoped like hell he wasn't. Amber's feelings counted too, no matter if she was doing her best to hide what those were. Compared to her vivacity when they were out, or alone, she'd retreated to the cool, collected queen, not letting a single emotion cross her face.

Letting out a defeated breath, Foreman pulled into his parking space. He checked his watch--they didn't have time to draw this out. It would be unprofessional, anyway. Leave their personal shit at the door and act through the day like nothing was going on. Fine. Amber wanted time. What else could he say to that? He'd tried to say as much and it felt like Amber had let his words slip past her without letting them touch her. His chest felt heavy, all those weights that had lifted when he'd first met Amber returning with a vengeance to tie him down, making it difficult to breathe, to walk, to hold up his head. "I do want this," he said quietly, shutting his car door firmly. Without waiting for an acknowledgment, he walked away from her, into the hospital.