Chapter 35 Snow
SNOW
“Did Mr. Thomas at any point ask you to keep your relationship a secret?”
“By my own choice, I did.”
“At any point during your relationship, did Mr. Thomas threaten you?”
“No.”
“At any point during your relationship, did Mr. Thomas threaten your position in the department?”
“No.”
“At any point during your relationship, did Mr. Thomas make you feel like you were obligated to sleep with him?”
“No, this is… this is getting ridiculous.” Question after question grates on me just as they have for the past two hours.
I was discharged to go home earlier this afternoon, and that’s when H.R. swept in to put me through the wringer about Xander.
Talking about him hurts.
I’d much rather feel the tenderness of my incisions or the bruises from the crash.
“This is important, Miss Montoya. I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you how serious this is.”
“You don’t but you’re blowing things way out of proportion. Xander didn’t threaten me, he didn’t make me feel unsafe, he did nothing but help me and look out for me.”
“Can you be sure that it wasn’t part of his manipulation?”
“To do what?” I throw my hands up in frustration. “What did he have to gain from sleeping with me?”
“Power? A sense of control?” The woman taps her pen against the clipboard in her lap. “These kinds of situations are difficult as often, the victim doesn’t realize they’re a victim.”
“I’m not one!” I meet her gaze steadily. “It was a consensual, safe relationship and the only reason we didn’t tell anyone is because we’re both private people and didn’t want to become the hospital’s gossip topic.”
A failed attempt, really, but telling her the truth hardly matters now.
Maybe a week ago, it wouldn’t have mattered because back then, I really was worth Xander’s career in his eyes.
Now?
I replay the heartbroken look on his face as he left my room for the last time and a hot band tightens around my chest.
I want to go home, curl up, and forget I even exist.
“One more thing, Miss Montoya. While your answers are understandable, I will need all of this written in your own words and signed. But you must understand that once you do that, there’s no going back.”
My brow twitches into a slight frown. “What do you mean?”
“If you plan to sue the hospital for what happened in regard to harassment at work, your written confession—”
“No!” I cut her off with a loud yell. “I’m not going to sue anyone because nothing wrong happened! The only thing wrong that’s happened is that you’re depriving yourselves of an amazing surgeon. I’ll write what I need to and sign wherever, I don’t care. Just please let me go home!”
It works. She finally seems satisfied and the exhausting hours of questioning finally come to an end.
Did they do the same to Xander?
Did he answer the same as me?
Or did he let his hurt get the better of him?
June drives me home since the prospect of getting in a taxi is too terrifying, and she’s silent for most of the ride until we pull up outside my apartment.
“Thanks, June.”
“Snow?”
I pause, my hand on the door, and look at her. Worry tilts her expression and she chews nervously on her lower lip. “I’m fine,” I say. “Just tired.”
“It’s not that. I mean I’m glad you’re okay, but… you and Xander?”
My eyes close briefly. “If you’re going to judge me, please, I can’t take any more.”
“No, not at all!” Her hands tighten on the steering wheel. “It’s more that… you two were dating in secret. Did you ever worry about getting caught?”
“All the time.”
“And now that people know… are you in a lot of trouble?”
“Why are you asking me that?” I remove my hand from the door and inch carefully back into my seat. “Has Jen been gossiping?”
“Yes, but when does she not? No, I’m just…
seeing this all play out is kind of scary, don’t you think?
I mean, they tell us that interpersonal relationships are against the rules, but can you really be blamed for falling for someone that you spend so much time around?
We spend more time at the hospital than we do in our own homes, and even then, dating prospects are the guy from the grocery store or the one delivering take-out food. ”
“I can’t tell whether you’re trying to justify my actions or not,” I say with a tired smile. “I don’t even have a justification.”
“Aren’t you scared?” When she looks at me, there’s more worry flooding her eyes than I’d expect.
“Not really, no. I’m more… hurt. And annoyed.
At myself. Bad choices led to this, but it’s not that I’m mad at the hospital.
I’m sad that I ruined things with Xander because if we were still together, then this wouldn’t be so terrible.
” Warmth stings behind my eyes while something knots in my throat, making it hard to swallow.
“Still together,” she repeats. “I understand.” June looks away out the window but the worry doesn’t leave her face.
Suddenly, something clicks in my mind. “You’re not really talking about Xander and me, are you?”
When she looks back at me, her brows knit together into a singular line. “No,” she whispers.
“Are you… dating someone in the hospital?”
She nods.
“Are they in your department?”
She nods again. “Technically. We move in the same circles, but they’re not my boss. Although if I get assigned to help them in an emergency, they become my boss.”
I want to give her advice, to tell her that everything is going to be okay, but with my dark, empty building looming up against a backdrop of snow and darkness, I’m as empty as the hollowness oozing from my windows.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” I say softly. “But I can tell you that you need to make sure he’s worth it. In the end, that’s all that matters.”
June nods once, then again until she smiles shakily. “Thanks. Sorry. This is hardly appropriate.”
“It’s fine.”
“Do you need help getting inside?”
“No. Fred said some light exercise is good so that my muscles stay loose, so I'd better walk. Thank you for driving me.”
“If you need anything, just text me.”
“I will. Can you text me when you reach the bottom of the hill? I don’t want you to crash.”
“Sure.”
“Okay. Bye, June.”
I remain on the sidewalk until she drives around the bend.
Cold steals across my shoulders and cuts through the warmth of my coat, stealing away the lingering warmth from June’s car.
I stare after her and wait until she sends me a text telling me she’s safe.
Still, I don’t move.
The street is eerily silent and covered in a blanket of white, marred only by the tracks left by June’s car.
The Christmas decorations on the apartments across from me seem lackluster now, with lights not quite as bright and dull colors.
The snow falls slowly around me, drifting like a strange fog and illuminated by a single yellow street light a few feet away from me.
This street, this world, is as quiet as the cavernous ache deep inside me.
I miss Xander.
It was never supposed to go this way.
His face when he accused me of thinking he’d make a bad father will haunt me forever.
Breathing deeply, I follow the chill of icy air down my throat and into my lungs, clinging to that sensation as if it can numb me.
It takes me twenty minutes to turn from that quiet spot in the street and head inside.
My apartment isn’t much better.
Since the heating hasn’t been on in weeks, it’s almost as cold inside as it is outside.
There’s no festive warmth, no homeyness, and nothing about this place makes me feel welcome.
I’m a stranger in my own home.
I stand in the kitchen, quietly pouring myself some ice-cold water, when my phone buzzes once with a text.
[Mom] Snow! You still haven’t told us when you’re arriving! Christmas is in four days!
[Mom] If you’re planning on surprising us, don’t. I need numbers, not a heart attack.
Shit. I forgot all about that. I can add terrible daughter to my ever-growing list of failures. Picking up my phone, I slowly text back.
[Snow] Sorry, Mom, there was a sudden change of plans. I can’t make it.
[Mom] Again? Snow, I thought this was important to you.
[Snow] About as important as you all coming to New York and not telling me.
[Snow] We could have seen each other then.
[Mom] Don’t start. I already explained that.
[Snow] Sure. You could fly me out.
[Mom] We don’t have the money to spare, darling.
[Snow] Saving for another concert?
[Mom] Not that it matters, but yes, they’re playing in Brazil at New Year’s. Your father’s trying to get tickets. He says hi.
My heart sinks.
It’s just like her to imply that seeing each other is important and yet in the same breath, tell me it’s not as important as their passion for the band they’ve been following for years.
[Snow] I really can’t make it, Mom. I’m sorry. I’ll try next year.
[Mom] You’ve really upset me, Snow!
“Yeah, get in line,” I murmur, trudging through to my bedroom with water in hand. It’s just as cold in here so I climb into bed, wrap the covers around me like a burrito, and pop my painkillers.
I crave sleep, but it doesn’t come.
My mind doesn’t stop running so to distract myself I end up on social media.
Somehow, these apps know I’m pregnant because within a few scrolls I’m swarmed by baby ads.
Clothing, diapers and strollers, toys and more.
Not the kind of distraction I want.
A notification pops up, bringing me to Hannah’s page, where she’s posted a picture of herself wrapping presents for Christmas with a bright smile on her face.
Presents.
I need to get them all gifts, even though our last time together didn’t go smoothly.
None of them have checked in on me.
None have asked about the baby.
Are we even friends at this point?
It’s too easy to wallow in my pain and without some form of distraction, I’m going to go crazy.
Sitting up and remaining bundled in my blankets, I call Hannah.
She doesn’t answer.
I call her again and she immediately hangs up, then texts me to tell me that she’s busy with her man.
Fine.
I call Gemma and it just rings out.
I call her again and the same thing happens.
My thumb hovers over Phoebe.