Love Sick

Grace

MARCH, YEAR 2

The right thing is never easy.

We were so close to something good and it all went to hell.

Protecting Julian is the right thing, but it’s shredded me. I’m cut deep. Bleeding. My world is shattered, and I’m walking barefoot over the jagged remains.

The high of him was so wondrous, it shouldn’t surprise me that the crash is an untamed inferno of sorrow and torment.

No escape.

Life without Julian Santini is my own personal perdition.

I really did love him, didn’t I? Still do, I guess. I tried so hard not to fall for him, but the pervasive magic in his blood has called to me since the moment I met him. Even now, my attention drifts to him when he’s near.

He ignores me, and I can’t blame him for it. He’s in self-preservation mode.

I’m the person who broke his heart. Why would he spare me a glance?

I need out.

The weekend after our fight in the stairwell, I book a Saturday flight home and spend four hours in the air reliving every moment with him.

Can you promise me forever?

What if I could?

Would he? If I told him I wanted forever, would he give it to me? Could I trust it?

Matt promised forever, too…

But Julian is nothing like Matt!

My stifled tears turn into ugly sobs when I reach my mom’s arms. She rocks me on the airport sidewalk until the officer yells at us to move. On the forty-five-minute drive home, I spill everything. She listens without any interruption except to hand me tissues and whisper, “Oh, honey.”

“So that’s it. I broke up with him.”

She nods and glances in the rearview mirror before changing lanes. “I take it neither of you are happy about that decision?”

I shake my head. “But it’s the right thing.”

“Okay,” she says, remaining neutral. “If you’re sure.”

I narrow my tear-filled eyes at her. “What does that mean?”

“It’s just—are you sure you’re not using this as an excuse to beg off before he has the chance to hurt you?”

I turn away to stare at the car beside us. “Maybe. I love him, but I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to be hurt again.”

“But that’s what love is, honey.” She glances at me. “Giving someone a weapon to hurt you and trusting they won’t use it.”

My fingers curl into my sweatpants. Sparkle-silver nails mangle the fabric. “It’s the trust part I have a problem with.”

Mom nods. “ Do you trust him?”

A ragged breath expels through my nose. “Yes. No? I don’t know. I think I do, but I’m so scared. I’ve been wrong before. Really wrong.”

A short silence passes before Mom fills it. “Did you tell him what happened with Matt?”

“Of course not.” My voice goes diamond hard. “That isn’t something I ever want to discuss again.”

Her eyebrows pinch. “Oh, baby. If you ever want to be in a meaningful relationship, you’re going to have to share what happened to you.”

“Yeah.” My fingers twist hard into the fabric. “Maybe.”

At home, Dad has all my favorite movies in his streaming queue and a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table. The tears return as I fall into his safe arms.

He sighs. “Today, I focus on making my baby feel better. Tomorrow, I figure out how to kick this guy’s ass.”

I giggle-sob into his chest. “He didn’t do anything. It was all my fault.”

“Meh. Still feel like I need to kick his ass.”

In my childhood bed later that night, stomach full of cookies, I battle a raging case of insomnia. Scrolling through my phone, I force myself not to look at pictures of Julian, and instead open my messages to the one person who may still be awake.

Me: Well

Me: I made it safe to Cali

Kai: yayyyyyy hows the fam

Me: wonderful as always

I wait for him to answer, but nothing comes through.

Me: I can’t sleep

Kai sends a picture of himself holding a casino slot ticket worth $82.

Kai: me either!

I zoom in, smiling at Kai’s tipsy grin, but my heart clenches as the background grabs my attention. A blurry version of Julian stands with a girl in his arms. Her mouth is fastened to his neck.

He…he has another girl? Already?

Because I’m a masochist, I press and hold the live photo and a three-second loop plays. The girl backs away enough that I recognize her as that malicious nurse from Vincent. Julian smiles at her, and the photo freezes.

A spiky piece of barbed wire slips between my ribs and constricts my heart. It’s pain I deserve, but I wince and silently sob into my pillow.

About an hour later, I’m drifting in twilight sleep when my phone buzzes in my hand.

Julian: I miss you grace

My entire body hollows out and I’m a human-shaped shell.

Why would he be kissing other girls if he misses me?

Because he’s trying to forget.

The tears return, and my thumbs move before I can rethink it.

: I miss you too Julian.

When I arrive home Sunday afternoon, I throw my bag on the floor and fall face-first onto my bed. Being home with Mom and Dad healed some of the ache in my soul, but I’m still only half-living. I groan into my coverlet as I visualize the godforsaken schedule and how I’m slated to work the next twenty-six days in a row.

With a sigh, I push to my elbows and check my email—something I’ve avoided all weekend. My gaze catches on a message from Dr. Chen.

Dr. Rose,

This message is to inform you of the specifics regarding the meeting held by Steven Langston with the department heads this past Friday.

As you are aware, the negative impact of gossip in the workplace is far-reaching, and in an effort to quell the repercussions to both you and others who have been the victims of unfounded rumors, we have decided to assign a task force. This task force will make efforts to subdue the toxic culture which has developed, and create resident education programs to address the elements which are contributing to it. We would welcome you as part of this task force if you are interested, but if not, I do understand.

I hope this information serves to alleviate some of your stress. While we cannot take the current rumors away, we can at least try to improve ourselves moving forward.

Warmly,

Dr. Chen

I stare at the email until my eyes water, reading it over and over again, uncertain how to feel.

On one hand, a sense of justice envelops me. Here in my hand is absolute proof that the damage done to me is real, that these rumors about me are more than just idle gossip, that they have hurt more than just my feelings.

On the other, it can’t heal the scars that are already torn into my soul.

But at least it’s something—not something I ever want to be a part of, that’s for sure. Why should I spend effort trying to fix what someone else broke? But maybe it will be enough to stem the river of gossip against me. Maybe I won’t have to keep paddling upstream.

Someone pounds at my front door and I jolt. “Who is it?”

Instead of answering, the knocker pounds again.

Jeez. It’s either an angry neighbor or Kai. No one else is so aggressive. I push myself off the bed and head into the living room. The door swings open wide.

The girl on the other side freezes my blood.

“Hey, .” Tori Santini shoots me a fake, placid smile identical to Julian’s. “Can we talk?”

She doesn’t wait for me to open the door. Instead, she shoves her way in. I remain frozen as she slams the door and flops onto my sectional. With her silky hair pulled into a topknot, her black spike earrings serve as a warning. Her exploratory glare makes my hackles rise.

She looks so much like her brother.

“What are you doing here, Tori?”

“Oh. I came to visit my brother.” The fake smile reappears. “He’s sleeping, so I thought me and you could catch up. Girl talk.”

I cross my arms. “Sleeping off his fun night with some other girl?”

Fire blazes from Tori’s dark eyes, far more obvious than it ever is in her brother’s. “You don’t get to be mad about the way he heals what you broke.”

“This is none of your business.” The barbed wire constricts in my chest again, and tears rise to the surface.

Tori sits up. “You’re right. It isn’t my business. But he is my business.”

I collapse onto the opposite side of the sectional. “You here to give me a warning?”

“No.”

“Then what?” I reach for the box of tissues. What does it matter if she sees me cry? I probably won’t ever see her again after this.

“You might not agree, but Julian is great. He’s in pain because of you and that pisses me off. I’d love to wring your neck, but I won’t. I just wanted to say my piece.”

“Fine.” I motion for her to continue. “Say it.”

“My brother is a both-feet-first kind of person. I’m certain he told you how he feels, so let me highlight the gravity of that. When that boy loves, it’s fierce. I’ve never heard him talk about a breakup the way he’s talked about this one.”

My heart speeds, but I keep my expression neutral.

Tori stands, face sharpening into unadulterated fury. “That’s how I know this is the real deal for him. If you ever decide you want him, he’ll come back. I’m telling you right now that if you do that, you better be real fucking sure he’s what you want. If you break him again, I will cut you into pieces so small they won’t even know it’s human until they test the DNA.”

I blink.

Tori smiles the fake smile once more, eyes cold. “We good?”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

“Bye, y.” She slams the door.

* * *

Instead of the GYN surgery month I was originally assigned for April, I’m covering most of Raven’s L&D shifts. As I step into the resident lounge at TUMC for lunch, a familiar figure standing near the drink station makes me grin. “Hey, Asher.”

He looks up, usual smile in place. “Hey, y-poo.”

“What are you doing here?”

He grabs a coffee cup and slides it under the automatic machine. “Just finished a hyst with Levine.”

I eye the brew that comes from the machine. “You trust that stuff?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Better than nothing.”

“I disagree.” I pointedly snatch a foam cup and fill it with Mountain Dew.

He chuckles.

After I load a plate with a meager banana and dollop of mashed potatoes—the only part of the complimentary lunch offering that appears edible—I take a seat beside him. We’re early so the room is nearly empty.

“How have you been, Asher? I feel like I’ve barely seen you lately.”

He sips his coffee. “You’ve been a little preoccupied, I think.” He smiles when I shoot a curious glance his way. “I’ve been fine.”

“Good.” I take a bite of potatoes and grimace. Ugh. That’s awful.

Laughing, he leans forward onto the table. “Yeah. I avoid the food here when possible.”

“I heard you signed a contract near Houston. Private practice?”

He bobs his head. “Yep.”

“Aw.” I smile. “I’m so happy for you. I’ll miss you, though.”

He tilts his head. “Will you?”

I pause in peeling the banana to stare at him. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

He studies my face. His brown eyes have a ring of green at the outer rim. How have I never noticed that?

He gives his head a slow shake. “You have no idea, do you?”

Um. Huh? “No idea about what?”

The embittered laugh that follows my question raises the hairs on my neck.

“It’s nothing.” He sighs and drinks his coffee. “I thought there might have been something between us. Clearly, I was wrong.”

My mind stumbles over that piece of information. “Wait. What?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Just wishful thinking on my part.”

The door opens to let in a horde of family medicine residents.

I lean closer to him. “Asher, I thought you were teasing me. I had no idea you were serious.”

“Doesn’t matter, does it?” He sends me a shrewd stare. “You were into someone else.”

No longer hungry, I stare at my uneaten food. “I guess.”

“Hey. No hard feelings. I’m off to Houston in a few months, anyway.”

I try to smile. He does the same.

“Still friends?” I ask.

“Always, y-kins.”

The door opens again, and Dr. Levine wanders in. He nods at Asher and grabs some food before heading our way. “I guess you guys heard the news?”

He settles into his food while Asher and I trade glances. Asher sets his cup on the table. “Heard what?” he asks.

“Alesha married Steve Langston last Sunday,” Levine says, chuckling. “Crazy, right?”

My body stills.

Asher laughs. “What? You punking us?”

Levine shakes his head. “Saw the pictures myself.”

“That—” I let out an awkward laugh. “That can’t be right.”

Levine takes a bite of food. “Guess they’ve been together a while. Since before she was an intern. She’s the one who had a relationship with someone in GME.”

A flash of heat precedes an entire ocean of ice water spilling over my body. Asher’s stare pierces me, but I’m frozen. Not even my chest will move to let in air.

Levine laughs and matches my gaze. “And to think I thought it was you this whole time.”

He shrugs. He just…shrugs. Like none of it matters.

“, you okay?” Asher touches my shoulder.

I nod and force my breathing to a normal rate. My shaking hands drop beneath the table, and I stuff them under my legs.

Alesha?

It was Alesha?

Asher faces Levine. “So, Alesha was given a spot because she was in a relationship with him?”

Levine turns from his food. “Oh. No. Langston wasn’t involved in resident selection that year. He stepped back. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Now it makes sense, though.” He takes a bite of potatoes. “Alesha got in fair and square.”

So did I.

No apology is forthcoming. No remorse lines his face. He doesn’t care. Or maybe he doesn’t know enough to care. What I’ve gone through and how it affected me—it doesn’t matter to him. It affects him in no way. The slut-shaming and side-eyes I received are just a part of the culture. Business as usual. This man and all the ones like him are a part of the insidious underpinnings of medicine. The good old boys’ club.

It’s this moment that flips a switch in my mind, and I decide to join Chen’s task force. This is wrong. What happened to me is just…it’s wrong. If I can stop it from happening to even one more person, it will be time well served.

People tell me I put too much stock in the rumors. And sure, maybe I care too much about what other people say. Maybe I should let it all roll off my shoulders. But it’s been so hard when I know I’m innocent.

Like Matt, I allowed the rumors to take more from me than they deserved, but Alesha… Alesha had the power to stop it. She could have explained how they started in the first place, but she did nothing. She placed her transgressions on my name and walked away.

Since the fallout with Julian, my heart is like delicate spun glass, shattered. I’ve been painstakingly gluing the pieces back together, but this has knocked it off the edge. Smashed on the floor, it’s unrecognizable. Irreparable.

I thought I was broken before, but this is the true breaking point. This is proof that I continually place my trust in the wrong people.

Alesha is my best friend, and she screwed me.

“Why don’t you go home?” Asher says, touching my elbow. “I’ll cover the rest of your shift.”

My movements are leaden as I turn toward him.

He offers a comforting smile. “Go on, . Take the afternoon. You need it.”

I can’t say anything, so I squeeze his shoulder in thanks and leave the room.

* * *

Four days later, Alesha still hasn’t responded to my texts or calls, and I’ve had time to stew. When she didn’t appear in didactics on Thursday, I checked the schedule. She has the week off for vacation—something I’m certain wasn’t on the schedule the last time I checked it.

I’ve never been so pissed. Twenty-two months she’s had the key to stopping all these rumors. Why didn’t she? To protect herself?

I want to hear the truth from her mouth. Maybe she’ll have an excuse that makes sense, one that can set me on the path to forgiveness. Small chance, of course, but this anger is festering deep in my gut. Unhealthy. I need to talk to her.

Except she won’t answer her goddamn phone.

My twenty-four at TUMC that weekend is blissfully slow. I spend the majority of my time sleeping, rewatching The Office and answering pages.

Normally, a page details a phone number, a patient name and a brief reason for the page. The one I stare at now has me scratching my head. It gives me the phone number and patient name, but then says, WARNING. SHE’S A LITTLE ANGRY .

Hmm. Well, this should be interesting…

For the next twenty-five minutes, I serve as a bystander for some woman’s rant against an OB who works in a different city. She ends her tirade by asking whether our clinic is taking new patients.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say.

“Great. What’s your name? You sound like you could probably help me.”

A judge in my mind who craves justice blurts out a lie. “Alesha Lipton, ma’am. I’d be happy to take care of you. Be sure to ask for me when you call on Monday.”

“Will do. Just don’t screw it up like the last doctor.”

“I won’t, ma’am.”

She disconnects, and I shoot a sinister grin at nothing in particular.

A while later, I check out the few patients on the floor to Greg Kelly, hand him the pager and abandon the hospital. The parking lot is half-empty, so Alesha’s familiar shape sitting on the bumper of my Camry is visible from a long distance.

My gut twists, and I briefly consider turning around, but she hops off my car and beckons to me.

“Please, !” she shouts.

Shrugging my backpack on tighter, I march in her direction, then stand in front of her and cross my arms. “Congrats, Dr. Langston.”

She winces. “I didn’t take his name.”

“How feminist of you,” I say, dripping with disdain.

“, I can explain.”

In one fell swoop, my energy drains and I’m utterly exhausted. My shoulders slump under the weight of everything that’s happened, and I want to crawl in my back seat and sleep for the rest of time.

“You got married.” I head to my car. “What’s to explain?”

“—”

I slip into the driver’s seat and cut her off with the sharp slam of my door. She ducks into the back seat before I can reverse out of my spot.

My head falls to the headrest. “Fine. Explain.”

She meets my eyes through the rearview mirror. “Right before third year of med school, Steve came to talk to our class about the residency programs here. Afterward, I went to ask him questions, and we hit it off. I kept him at a distance at first. He’s fifteen years older than me, and it seemed weird, but the more I got to know him, the less that difference mattered.”

I shut my eyes. “I’m really glad you found someone, Alesha. I am. I just—”

“Let me apologize. I want you to know where I was coming from, even if you don’t agree with my choices.”

I roll my eyes.

“By the time I realized I wanted to actually date him, I was well into third year. I knew I wanted to match OB and in order to be close to him, I’d have to match here.”

“There are other OB residencies in this city, Alesha.”

She clicks her tongue. “This is the best one, and you know it.”

I say nothing.

Alesha’s voice softens. “So we agreed that he’d step back from The Match our year. I interviewed, and Steve found out I matched here at the same time I did. We celebrated so hard that night.”

I scoff.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that word got out about us until you mentioned that everyone thought it was you, that you’d bought your spot with sex. I mean…it doesn’t even make sense, really. The program directors have final say over the rank list. You’d have to have screwed Dr. Chen.”

“Ew!” I turn to shoot her a disgusted face.

“I know! But I couldn’t come out and say it was me, . Our relationship wasn’t exactly allowed, but… I loved him. I loved him so much, and I just couldn’t live without him. There’s no direct rules against us being together, but there’s vague wording in his contract about it. He could have been brought in front of the board of executives. It was his career…”

“It was my career.” My voice is barbed, and she flinches. “You let everyone think I did those things! One rumor spiraled into dozens of slanderous stories.”

“I didn’t know! I swear, . I didn’t know how upset you were by it. In the beginning, I’d always defended you, so I think people stopped talking trash around me. You always blew it off like you didn’t care, and I guess—I guess I wanted to believe it didn’t bother you. I’m your best friend, I should’ve—”

“You are not my best friend. A friend wouldn’t do this to me.” I spear a glare through the mirror.

Alesha’s shoulders slump. “Okay. That’s fair. But I had no idea how much it was all hurting you until you pushed Julian away because of it. You love that boy! You have for almost two years. Why did you do that, ? You two belong together.”

“It wasn’t just about the rumors.” I stare blindly out the windshield.

“He would weather any of those rumors with you, . He’d do anything for you. I would have too, if you’d have just talked to me, I could’ve—”

“What was I supposed to say? Hey, Alesha, did you hear the latest rumor about how I screwed an intern on an OR table? Yeah, pretty funny, huh? It kind of makes my soul want to curl up and die. Maybe you should have used a smidgeon of empathy and put yourself in my shoes. How would you feel if those things were said about you?”

“I know. I—I read it all wrong.” She stumbles over the words, tears thick in her tone. “I’m so sorry.”

My own empathy strikes. It goes against my nature to witness tears and not provide comfort. I stand strong, but my voice shrinks. “And I don’t know why you’re lecturing me about telling the truth when you’ve been keeping this secret for two years. There is no sorry for this, Alesha. You broke my heart. You broke my trust. I—I don’t know how to move past this.”

She leans back so her reflection in the mirror disappears. A shaky breath fills the silence before she continues. “Once Julian told me you broke up with him, I knew I couldn’t watch it anymore. Steve was in the middle of dealing with some ridiculous talk that you’d done something with an attending to get you a pass on a rotation. He knew none of it was true, and when I told him it was enough and asked him to fix it, he agreed. He set up those meetings and we agreed to marry so we could go public. It’s all—” she lets out a tired sigh “—so stupid, honestly. Anyone who knows you knows you wouldn’t do that.”

A derisive snort escapes my nose. “Thanks.”

“I wanted to protect both you and Steve, so I discussed it with him and we decided to marry. We’d planned to do it, anyway. His contract is very clear that married couples aren’t subject to those no-relationship rules. We made the decision two weeks ago and we married last weekend.”

A poisonous wrath stirs in my gut. “Congratulations.”

Her voice peps up. “No, don’t you see? This way, everyone will know it was me, and the rumors about you will fizzle.”

“How do you know they’ll fizzle, Alesha? Preconceived notions don’t vanish overnight.”

She climbs into the front passenger seat and faces me. Tear tracks stain her face. “Yeah, there will probably still be a little talk, but I’ve discussed this with Steve. He’s going to speak with all the program directors, set the record straight.”

I scoff. “It’s like you’re blind to reality. The rumors spawn on each other. There’s no stopping them. I’m a running joke, and you did that to me. This is your fault.”

“I’m trying to make it right.” Her gaze drops to her lap. “I’ll do whatever to fix this. I’ll listen if you want to scream at me, or if you want to tell me how it all made you really feel. Whatever you need.”

If she’d asked me to confide in her a week ago, I might have done it, but she never asked.

Because she didn’t want to know.

I can’t help but assume that her failure to ask was entirely selfish in nature. She didn’t want the guilt of knowing her actions hurt me.

But maybe I’m judging too harshly. I rub my eyes. Several silent moments pass until the wave of exhaustion rears its head again. “I need to think, Alesha. This is a lot.”

“All right.” She pats a quick rhythm on her knees, then faces me, eyes dewy. “I—we got back from our honeymoon this morning. I wanted to talk to you as soon as you got off. I do love you, . If I’d known what you were going through—”

“It’s fine.”

“You gotta talk to me more. Open up, okay?”

No thanks, hypocrite.

She takes my hand, and the giant marquis diamond on her finger becomes apparent.

I lean forward to study it. “This is beautiful.”

“You could have one, too.”

I spin my head toward her, brow lifted.

“ Please .” She scoffs playfully and wipes some moisture from her face. “You think that dork wouldn’t give you the world if you asked for it?”

Tears spring to my eyes and I shake my head. “He wouldn’t. I broke us.”

She squeezes my hand. “Broken things can be fixed, . Look at us. I’m going to fix this. I promise.”

Strong doubts rise to the surface. I’m not sure what she could do to fix it, or even if fixing it would be enough. I swallow down my tears. “I need time.”

Pulling away, she exhales a sharp puff of air. “That’s fair. Let me know when you’re ready.” She opens the door but pauses when I say her name. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for trying to fix it. But… I don’t know if it will be enough.”

Her mouth twists. “You’re my girl. No matter what, remember that.”

After she leaves, I stare blindly through the window and relive the conversation. Alesha’s naive hope that the rumors will fizzle is foolish, right? It won’t all magically stop because she married a higher-up.

But does any of that matter, in the end?

You two belong together.

Does she really believe that? Alesha may have gone about it the wrong way, but when she found her love, she jumped for it. Made sacrifices for it. Does she think I should do the same?

It’s something Julian would do for me.

The thought strikes like lightning.

He’d do it for me.

Julian would absolutely do that for me. I’m certain of it. Does that mean— do I trust him? Did I somehow learn to trust when I wasn’t watching? Somewhere on the narrow path between his unfailing constancy and my inability to resist him, did I set down my defenses and hand him my heart for safekeeping?

What have I done that makes you think I won’t keep loving you even when it’s hard?

Nothing. He did nothing. All he ever did was love me.

Gaze frozen on my steering wheel, I think about Julian. About his raspy voice whispering he loves me in the dark of night. His capable hands teaching me how to use laparoscopic instruments. His patience with my gnawing anxiety. His kiss and his no-smile and his perpetual kindness.

He is nothing like Matt. He is Matt’s antithesis.

If I believe that, then why am I still trying to convince myself I can’t trust him? It will always be true that I’m a mess of a human, but maybe I can learn to believe him when he says he loves me how I am, flaws and all.

I need to tell him what happened to me.

Because I belong to him, don’t I? He’s a part of me. I’m a part of him. Even the parts I don’t necessarily like. Once he knows, he can make an informed decision. He can accept me, or he can take the out I gave him. He’ll have the whole picture.

Matt doesn’t fit between us, and the rumors don’t have a place there, either. The ice queen? She’ll go to her grave before I let her squeeze into the space separating us again.

I love you, and I want you forever.

Oh my god. He said that, and I let him walk away.

What the hell have I done?