Chapter 52
CHAPTER
FIFTY-TWO
ASPEN
Everyone has moments they look back on in life and think holy shit, how did I do that. This feels like one of those moments for me. The nerves coursing through me alone are enough to make me want to throw up.
So much so that I almost didn’t come.
Crawling into my bed and hiding would’ve been preferable.
Jeremiah isn’t worth the paperwork, the looks, or the disruption to my life.
But I am.
The version of myself who made herself small and spared people inconveniences at her own expense, is done.
My comfort at work is more than a convenience, it’s a legally protected right.
Waiting for the elevator, I catch sight of my eyes, still a little swollen from crying. I straighten my spine, though, because if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it with my whole chest. I pull my phone from my pocket.
Jeremiah’s name sits in my notifications like a dare. Three unread messages. Two missed calls.
I don’t open them. It’s been like that all week. Instead of leaving me alone like I asked, he’s doubled down on his efforts.
Instead, I step into the elevator, not bothering to smile at the other passengers joining me, as I press my thumb against the three. The elevator lurches upward toward the hospital administration offices.
I asked Emmett to fight for his future.
It’s only fair I stop avoiding mine.
Caleb, the HR Generalist, smiles brightly when I step into the office. He takes the black-rimmed glasses from where they’re hooked on his knit polo, sliding them on his face and checking his calendar.
I’m not on it. This meeting is as impromptu as they come, but I’m too busy trying not to bolt out the door to feel bad about that.
When he looks up, he’s still smiling, “If anyone is going to just pop in for a visit, I’m glad it’s you.”
A nervously chuckle bubbles out of me. “You might not feel that way when I tell you why I’m here.”
That warm smile he’s known for falls as his eyes find me over the top of his glasses. “If you give your notice, I’m ripping it up.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat, my gaze dropping to the floor.
“Okay. Not a social visit.”
I glance around the offices. For an HR department, the layout is awfully public. “Can we—is there some place quiet we can talk?”
“Yes, of course.”
He slips into his polished professional tone and stands, popping his laptop free from the dock.
Caleb opens a glass-walled conference room and gestures me inside with a sweep of his arm. “Have a seat.”
If I were able to be put at ease, his warm, confident demeanor would do it. But I fear I’m nothing more than a raw nerve until I get this out in the open.
I take the chair closest to the door and set my phone on the table in front of me, then fold my hands in my lap before I reach down and adjust the chair.
My god. Stop fidgeting.
Caleb flips his notebook open across from me and then looks up. “Okay, Aspen. Tell me what’s going on.”
I suck in a lungful of air like it’s courage. “I need to file a complaint about Dr. Smith.”
His pen pauses just enough that I notice. “All right,” he says carefully. “I’m listening.”
“I want to start by disclosing that Dr. Smith and I previously had a consensual relationship.”
He jots down a note, each scratch of the pen seems to echo in the empty conference room.
“We saw each other casually a few times over the summer.”
“Okay. There’s nothing that prohibits that, but I’m guessing there’s more to this story?”
I roll my tongue against my cheek, nodding. Now that I’m talking, the nerves have turned to outright anger, and I have to work to keep my voice from shaking.
“I ended things with him, but he hasn’t gotten the message.
I tried handling it on my own, repeatedly telling him I was no longer interested in seeing him.
The last thing I wanted was for this to be someone else’s mess.
But keeping things professional is beyond challenging when he continues to make me uncomfortable.
He’s clearly not used to hearing the word no, or thinks it doesn’t apply to him.
” I exhale a deep breath and pause because I’ve said a lot.
“I can see that this is really upsetting for you. But I want you to know anything you say to me is confidential. We take all complaints very seriously.”
Relief hits me in a wave.
“Thank you.” It comes out in a whoosh.
“You’ve explicitly told Dr. Smith to stop contacting you outside of work?” Caleb asks.
“Yes. I have text messages.”
I reach for my phone, fumbling it a bit before I unlock it.
“He’s been texting and calling me outside of work. Frequently. Cornering me when I’m working for personal reasons. Hunting me down on shift. The last time it happened, I told him you would be my next stop and he threw our past relations in my face. Basically he slut-shamed me.”
Caleb looks up as I slide my phone across the table.
He doesn’t touch it right away.
“May I?”
“Yes.”
He scrolls slowly. The room is quiet except for the faint tick of the wall clock and the soft drag of his finger against glass.
He rubs his lips together, gaze leaving the phone long enough to pin me down.
“There are messages from today.”
And everyday this week.
When he finally sets my phone aside, his voice is lower and more serious than I’ve heard from him before. “Aspen, this isn’t okay.”
Emotion hits me so fast it almost knocks the breath out of my lungs.
I might have put off this difficult conversation, but not once did I think what Jeremiah was doing was right. Hearing it out loud, though, feels like permission to stop carrying it alone. I spent weeks imagining every possible reaction except this one.
Simple belief.
“Has he threatened you or your job?” Caleb asks.
“Not directly.” I think for a second. “But he acted like no one would believe me if I came forward—painted me as being difficult for saying no.”
Caleb nods again. “That’s coercive behavior.” He folds his hands and tucks his glasses back in the neck of his polo. “What outcome are you hoping for?”
“I’m not here to get revenge,” Although it would be nice. “I deserve to feel safe at work. I want boundaries. Documentation. Accountability. I don’t want this happening to anyone else either.”
Caleb studies me for a moment, then gives a single, decisive nod.
“That’s very reasonable.”
I get the feeling that I could have told him to throw the book at him.
Caleb takes control of the conversation with an authority I appreciate. “We’ll open a formal complaint—compliance gets looped in. We’ll collect statements, preserve the messages, and Jeremiah will be removed from your proximity while we investigate.”
Removed. As in I won’t have to deal with him.
My shoulders loosen a fraction.
“Will he know it’s me?”
“Yes,” Caleb says gently. “But retaliation is strictly prohibited. If he contacts you again, even once, you come straight to me.”
“I will.”
“You did the right thing, bringing this forward.”
The validation hits harder than expected.
“I want to block his number. Will that impact the investigation?”
“Not at all. Do what you need to to feel safe.”
I stand, sturdier than I felt walking in here.
Caleb stands as well, leading me to the door. “If you need schedule adjustments or coverage while this is active, you tell me. No need to explain yourself.”
“Thank you.”
When I step back into the hallway, the hospital noise filters in again—phones, carts, voices, life moving forward whether you’re ready or not.
I pause by the window at the end of the corridor and look at my reflection in the glass.
My eyes are still swollen.
But there’s a smile on my face. For once, I didn’t protect the peace at the cost of my own.
And as I head back toward the elevators my phone buzzes with another unwanted call from Jeremiah.
This time, I don’t flinch. I decline the call and block the number.