Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nash
The trauma bay smells like bleach, blood, and burn-out.
I’m charting behind the nurse’s station when the day’s fourth patient with vague chest pain rolls in.
It’s not even noon, and I’ve already ruled out one heart attack, one pulmonary embolism, and one anxiety spiral in a college kid who thought his internet research trumped my medical degree.
After I talked him down, he thanked me profusely for staying with him.
Said I was the first person who looked at him like he mattered, listened to what he was saying, and helped him see what was really happening without belittling him.
I should feel good about that but instead I feel angry over the state of things. He’s barely twenty and so stressed he came to the ER because he thought he was dying. Something in this world is broken. Something is missing. Something is wrong.
I glance at the board. It’s stacked. All the rooms full. Hallway beds filling.
“Mornin’!” Talia says, breezing up beside me. “You look like someone who opened the fridge five times and still can’t remember what he’s looking for.”
“Thanks,” I mutter with a grimace.
“Rough day?”
There’s no way to politely express the frustration of trying to help people in a system designed to take advantage of them. Not in public. I offer a grunt and a shrug instead.
She gives me a look. “Want me to bring you coffee or call a therapist?”
“Neither will help. But thanks for playing.”
“I offer caffeine and therapy… you choose despair.” Talia leans against the counter, braids swinging, watching me with narrowed eyes. “You’re not usually this grumpy until at least three. What gives?”
I’m about to answer, just lay it all on the table, when my phone buzzes.
Lucy
If the offer still stands, I’d love to take you up on the spare room
For me and my stuff
I stare at the screen for three full seconds before it fully processes.
And for the first time all morning, something in my chest lifts. Like a jammed door cracking open.
Talia tilts her head. “Damn. You’re actually smiling.”
“I’m not.”
“Oh, you are.” She taps my temple. “Right here. It’s in the eyes.”
And, suddenly, I find myself explaining and I don’t understand why.
Maybe it’s because I almost told her about my frustration about work in the parking lot the other day.
Maybe because Talia seems to get me in a way others don’t.
Or maybe it’s because Lucy’s presence in my life is too big to keep to myself.
“Remember that cute twenty-something you thought might help my bedside manner?”
Her eyes glint with mischievous glee. “You didn’t…”
“You’re right. I didn’t.” At least not yet, and if I’m smart, I’ll keep it that way. “But I did offer to help rehab her ankle, seeing as she has no insurance and can’t go through the normal channels.”
“Because that’s not crossing any kind of ethics barriers at all.”
I glare. “Don’t you have people to save?”
“Yeah sure,” Talia says, already walking backward down the hall. “But watching you squirm is way more fun.”
Once she’s gone, I turn back to my phone and reply.
Still stands
The room’s yours
Lucy doesn’t respond right away, and the silence is a trapdoor under my ribs. Then my phone buzzes again.
I wasn’t sure if you were hardcore regretting the offer
If you are, just tell me
All is good
I type. Erase. Type again.
I’ve got you.
Three little words that feel bigger than I meant them to.
I pocket the phone and scrub a hand down my face, then head to Room 4. The patient in there is a single mom who sliced her hand open on a broken dish and waited six hours because she couldn’t leave her toddler with anyone. She’s pale from shock but more worried about daycare pickup than stitches.
We patch her up. Call a cab. Give her a protein bar and a bottled water because the vending machine ate her last dollar.
She thanks me three times. Each one makes me feel a little worse.
Back at the desk, Talia reappears with a sandwich in hand. “Eat. You’re losing color. Except for the purple streaks you keep under your eyes. Those are practically glowing.”
I lift my hands to tell her I’m fine and she physically places the sandwich in one of them, wrapping my fingers around it and moving it towards my mouth.
“If you insist,” I grumble, then pause to say “Thank you” around a mouthful because I’m not a monster.
“So,” she says after a moment. “You gonna tell me why this girl’s making you stare off into space like a kid at prom?”
“She’s not.”
“She is.”
For the first time since Jadelyn left, I have something in my life to look forward to. Lucy’s a break in routine. She’s color and motion, lighting up the darkest corners of my life without even trying and giving me something to think about that isn’t work related...
Oh, dear God…
Does that mean Bennett was right when he implied I’d fallen into a rut that day at the Lantern? He must never know.
I refocus on Talia. “She’s unexpected.”
“She’s sunshine,” she says knowingly. “You’re Eeyore with a stethoscope. It’s bound to be confusing.”
“It’s not about that.”
Talia waits, brow raised expectantly.
“She’s got this fire,” I say eventually. “Like she wants the world to think she’s fine, even when she’s not.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“And she’s stubborn. So stubborn.” I quirk a brow in warning as Talia opens her mouth to respond. “But she’s also good,” I continue. “Kind. Smart.”
“And hot.”
I shoot her a look.
Talia holds up a hand. “What? I have eyes. And a brain. I don’t need a fancy medical degree to see what she’s doing to you.”
Normally I’d make a snide remark and walk away, but for some reason, I find myself speaking honestly. “Lucy’s young. Too young really. Not just in age, but life hasn’t killed off that spark in her. That fire. Being with her makes me feel alive again.”
“And that scares you.”
“What happens when she leaves?” The words are quiet, but spoken from the deepest part of me, and I regret them immediately, but that doesn’t stop me from continuing. “I don’t want to want her.”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Talia shrugs with the energy of a woman quickly running out of patience. “Then do.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that simple either.”
“Sure it is.” She scoffs, taking me to task in a way no one else but Bennett would dare. “Set a boundary. Stick to it. Or don’t. Go all in. Enjoy the moment. Get naked together if that’s what you both want. Care less. Live more.”
I open my mouth. Close it again. There’s no comeback for that kind of honesty and I deeply regret having this conversation. I make a mental note to never open up again.
Talia shrugs. “I’m full of wisdom today. Do with it what you will.”
I finish the sandwich and go back to my rounds, but the edge I’ve been carrying all morning has dulled. The rest of the shift drags. A broken collarbone. A toddler with a bead up his nose. A woman in her sixties who’s sure her neighbor is poisoning her cereal and demands a tox screen.
Through it all, Lucy’s text lives in my back pocket like a beacon.
I check my phone again on a bathroom break.
Lucy
Just double, triple checking you’re good with this before my roommate ships my stuff to your address
Still good. When you moving in?
I think Stella’s ready for her living room back as soon as you’re ready for company
Come on by tonight then
Say 7-ish?
I’ll clear the dresser and get you a key
You’re officially in the top five nicest people I know
Only five?
And here I thought kindness bombs had more impact
LOL
Okay. Top three
But don’t let it go to your head
And there it is. A real smile. Good thing Talia’s not here to see it.