Chapter 19
Haley and I had gone back to The Rusty Anchor a few times since that first night a couple of weeks ago. It was easy if one of us had a rough day to grab a drink to unwind.
I didn’t have bad days, per se. I’d been in a better place than where I was a few short weeks ago, but even now, when I was alone, moments still crept in—moments when my thoughts became a little too loud.
And Haley…well, she seemed to be the key to quieting them.
I didn’t know what it was about her presence, but she was the rare quiet in my storm. With her, the constant noise in my mind faded into silence. It was almost unnerving how easily she could mute thoughts I never seemed to be able to escape on my own.
Even at work while precepting her, I found it easier to focus. It was a phenomenon I couldn’t explain, even to myself. I started seeking her out—messaging her on our days off just for a simple conversation, even if it was only a few words on a screen. It was something.
It was Friday, and we were midway through the first day of our weekend shift, and the ER was slammed.
We’d just run a code and had stabilized the patient when another came through the doors via ambulance.
I’d noticed since lunch that Haley seemed a little on edge, but I hadn’t had a chance to ask her if everything was okay because we’d been so busy.
We were in the room, getting report from EMS on the one they just brought in—shortness of breath and chest pain. I stood back, listening while Haley gathered all of the information.
I stepped up beside her when EMS finished. “Get them on oxygen, get an EKG, get a rainbow, blood gas, and put in for an X-ray.”
I nodded. “Good.” I looked at Marie, who was in the middle of hooking the patient to the monitor, and nodded for her to continue with what Haley said. “We’ll go get these orders in.”
We walked out of the room, and when we entered the doctor’s charting area and sat down, I glanced at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, focusing on the computer screen as she started to put in the patient’s orders before looking at me. “Why?”
“You just seem tense.”
She blew out a breath. “Anchor after work?”
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “I’ll drive.”
After our shift ended, Haley and I walked to my car and drove up to The Rusty Anchor. We walked inside, and she took up what had now become our table in the back while I went to the bar and ordered our drinks.
I’d texted Gabe earlier, asking if he could go to my house after work due to my plans.
My brother loved Maverick—who wouldn’t? He’d easily agreed to hang out with him the few evenings I wasn’t home right after work these past couple of weeks.
According to him, it was good for me to “socialize with my colleagues” to unwind, and he insisted he was always willing to help.
I’d left out the finer details about exactly who I was socializing with, though.
He could see through me most of the time, and the last thing I needed was him asking questions.
When I approached the table and saw Haley’s fingers drumming against it as she stared out the window, I sensed her tension. “So, what’s on your mind?” I asked as I slid her glass over and took the seat beside her.
I watched her take a sip of her drink. “Brett messaged me again today.”
“Oh?”
Haley nodded. “I didn’t answer his text from a couple of weeks ago, and he assumed the reason was that I knew he was engaged, so he wanted to let me know he called off his engagement. And then he asked if he could see me…”
There was a foreign burning sensation behind my ribs at the mention of this guy asking to see her, and my grip on my beer bottle subconsciously tightened. “What, uh…what’s the history there? I mean, I know he’s an ex, but what’s the story?”
She took a long sip of her drink before sighing and diving into what I quickly realized was a complicated history. She explained their three-year on-again, off-again relationship, the guy’s inability to stay committed, and his indiscretions that she overlooked and forgave time and time again.
He sounded like a grade-A prick, but I kept that thought to myself.
“But you finally called it quits…”
Haley nodded. “A year and a half ago. It just…I finally realized how toxic it was. I realized nothing was ever going to change. That he wasn’t going to change, no matter how much I wanted him to.”
My chest tightened with uncertainty as I asked my next question, surprised by the anxious knot forming, although I couldn’t quite explain why. “Do you…do you still have feelings for him?”
“No,” she replied without hesitation. “There is no part of me that misses him.”
I shouldn’t have felt the rush of relief I did at her answer, but it was sudden and undeniable. “So…” I trailed off, taking a sip of my beer, trying to appear unfazed. “If you’re not still hung up on him, why did his text throw you off so much?”
She took another sip of her drink. “I don’t know, honestly. I just…after all this time, I don’t understand why he’s reaching out. The first time, he was engaged. Now he’s telling me he called off his engagement, thinking that’s why I didn’t respond. It’s just...weird and confusing.”
“And did you say anything back?”
“No. I still didn’t respond.”
“Are you going to?”
“No,” she answered, again without hesitation.
“Good.”
She arched her brow with a chuckle. “Good?”
“Yes, good. Since you’ve already established this guy has treated you like shit before, responding would be a direct violation of the promise you made me.” That earned another laugh from her. “Plus, you already know that what he has to offer you isn’t what you want.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever find what I want,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“What? You want the fairytale?” I teased.
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I want…I want the little things.”
I arched my brow. “Little things?”
“Yeah, you know, like…lazy Sunday mornings. Dancing in the kitchen. Getting in the car for random drives. Impulsive trips, even if they’re not far. Those kinds of ‘things’…”
I stared at her. She had this wistful look in her eyes, shadows of longing for something she’d never experienced but wanted so desperately to.
Her vulnerability in that moment was clear, and I felt a wave of empathy.
And I suddenly found myself wanting her to have that, too, simply because she deserved it.
I tilted my beer bottle towards her. “To the little things.”
Haley smiled, clinking her glass against my bottle.
The next day, the chaos in the ER continued. We were hit with one patient after another, but luckily, most of them were easy in-and-out cases.
Haley and I had just rounded the corner from discharging a patient when Marie called out, “We got one coming in hot.”
We had no time for questions. The ambulance bay doors opened, and they rushed in, doing CPR on the patient. I nodded at Haley. “It’s all you.”
I trailed behind her as she hurried to the bed while they quickly moved the patient and continued CPR. “What do you have?” she asked.
“Thirty-year-old male. Became short of breath and collapsed at the finish line of the Cove Runners Marathon. No known medical history. BLS given en route…”
I looked at Haley, watching as she quickly assessed the patient and processed the information they were providing.
At the same time, Marie and the CNA, Sarah, hooked him up to the monitor and defibrillator.
In my head, I was saying the steps mere seconds before she called them out herself—stop compressions, check the rhythm, shock, epinephrine.
She was doing everything she should be. And the monitor began beeping when she got the patient back.
I could see her relax slightly as she slung her stethoscope around her neck. “We need labs–”
“I’m already here,” Natasha said as she stepped toward the bed.
Haley nodded, then looked at Marie, rambling off instructions for a portable chest X-ray, oxygen, EKG, blood gas, and fluids.
She looked at the monitor once more before turning back to me, a question in her eyes. “You did good,” I said.
We walked back to the physician’s charting area, and Haley got right to work, documenting and entering the official orders. While waiting for the labs and X-ray results on that patient, we saw a couple in between—an abdominal pain, and another that came in with chest congestion.
Back in the charting area, she’d just put in an order for a CT for the abdominal pain patient when the collapsed runner’s lab results came in. She scanned over them, her brow furrowing. “His potassium is seven, magnesium is three, and creatinine is four…”
I looked at her. “And what does that tell you?”
“Severe kidney dysfunction.”
I gave a nod. “And what else?”
“With his lytes that high, it’s going to affect his heart function. That’s why he coded.”
“Good,” I said. “So, what are your next steps from here?”
Her lips parted to respond, but she didn’t get a chance before the monitor at the nurses’ station alarmed. “Guys, he’s in VT again!” Marie called out as she flew up from her chair.
We were both up, hurrying toward the patient’s room. Sarah was already starting compressions as we walked in, and both our eyes snapped to the monitor—his vitals were tanking.
I stayed back as Haley moved, amping up the defibrillator to two hundred. “Clear!” Everyone stepped back before she gave the shock, watching the monitor. “Push one of epi, continue compressions.”
Marie grabbed the epinephrine from the code cart while Sarah continued compressions. After a few minutes, Haley called for a pause in compressions to check the patient’s rhythm.
“He’s still in VT. Clear!” They stepped back as she gave another shock and called for another push of epinephrine.