Chapter 15
My eyes darted from my lunch to where Haley sat across the table in the breakroom, notes and index cards strewn around her, not a crumb of food in sight.
I couldn’t help but watch her—the way her brow slightly pinched in concentration, the way her lips moved ever so slightly when she read to herself, the way she closed her eyes when trying to retrieve some piece of information from her mind.
“When’s your exam?” I asked.
“Two weeks,” she answered, not even looking up from her notes.
“You feel ready?”
“No.” She let out a derisive laugh as she finally looked at me. “Am I supposed to?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t think anyone ever feels truly prepared for boards, no matter what kind they are or how much you study.”
“That wasn’t very helpful,” she quipped.
“Do you have a study group or any friends you’re studying with?”
“No. Just me, myself, and I.”
“I always found studying with others easier. It took some of the pressure off in a way.”
“I tried that once with Marie, and we ended up bullshitting the whole time.” She chuckled. “Fun, yes, but not very productive on my end.”
“Well, based on how I’ve seen you two act around each other here, that tracks,” I jested.
Haley snorted before looking back down at her index cards.
I knew how boring it was, studying alone, quizzing yourself in silence with barely a break.
“I could help you study.” The words just slipped out, freezing me in place. Why the fuck did I just say that?
And when she lifted her gaze back to mine, she seemed just as surprised as I was by my offer. “You…you would do that?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said, but it sounded more like a question than an answer. “Yeah, I could help. If you want, that is.”
When she smiled, I knew I was fucked with getting out of it.
“I mean, yeah. That—that would be great, actually. Only if you’re really feeling up to it. You don’t have to.”
I hesitated, unsure if I should backtrack because something told me this might not be the best idea, but I forced myself to answer. “No, I don’t mind.”
“Okay,” she said with a smile. “Maybe next week? I took off work to study, so I’m off all next week.”
I nodded. “Yeah, next week will be fine.”
That night, while sports highlights played on the television, I found myself barely paying attention.
“I mean, what the hell was I supposed to say? I just offered to help her study. I couldn’t look at her and be like, ‘Oh, actually, you know what? Never mind.’”
I looked over at Maverick, who was sitting on the couch beside me, staring at me. I swore if I didn’t know better, he was actually trying to understand what the hell I was talking about.
Then he barked.
“Exactly,” I said as I reached over and scratched behind his ear.
Maverick seemed to be adjusting well to being with me.
He followed my every move—if I got up, so did he.
I took him on runs and, at times, let him off the leash to see how he would behave.
Even with other dogs passing, he never left my side.
He was definitely a beach dog. I took him down to the empty, driftwood-scattered one my house overlooked, and I swore it was heaven to him—he was free to run, played in the water, and there were giant sticks everywhere.
Having him around did seem to help a little. I knew it wouldn’t be an overnight thing, though.
Noah was still heavy on my mind. My brain seemed to want to recall every conversation we had, no matter how big or small.
At work, the memories didn’t plague me as often.
When they did appear, they were faint, quick, and easily extinguished by keeping myself busy.
But at home, they seemed relentless, looping without end.
Each time I remembered something Noah and I planned to do, or something he’d mentioned about Melanie and the twins, guilt over what he’d never experienced stabbed at me.
I was still struggling with sleep, too, feeling restless and unsettled at night.
My emotions swung between numbness and anxiety, like living on a string that was constantly being jerked back and forth.
I’d lie in bed staring at the ceiling or out the window for what felt like hours, mind racing and unable to get comfortable.
The lack of sleep made my thoughts spiral, and I was starting to worry that it would bleed into my work days.
Each night, I felt a bit more worn down and distant.
All I could do was stick to my routine and hope I might eventually even out.
Monday evening, I pulled up along the curb and parked out front of Haley’s townhouse.
I saw her the day before, since we worked the same weekend, and she reminded me she’d taken the week off and asked if I’d be available today.
A part of me had hoped she would forget or not ask about it at all, but I wasn’t going to back out since I was the one who offered.
I knew I was feeling odd about being alone with her like this because of what happened between us, but there was no reason to feel that way. It happened three months ago, and we hadn’t brought that night up to each other, not even once. We both acted like it never happened.
It was going to be fine.
I got out of my car and locked it as I walked up the stairs to her front door, letting out a breath before knocking. As I waited, I turned my head, my eyes shifting around, taking in my surroundings.
The door opened, and I whipped my head back to her. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Haley greeted me with a smile. “Come on in.” She stepped aside, and I walked in, lingering in the entryway as I slipped my shoes off. “We can go in here,” she said, gesturing to the living room before walking ahead of me.
As I followed, the faint scent of something floral with a hint of vanilla hit me, and my eyes shifted to the hallway. I could almost see us that night, her stumbling into the wall with a laugh—nope. Not going there.
Haley had a laptop open on her coffee table surrounded by books, notes, and index cards scattered around it. “Have you been studying all day?”
“Pretty much.” She smiled sheepishly. “You can have a seat wherever. Can I get you a drink? Water? Soda? Or I have coffee made because I’ve been living off that and Alani.”
I chuckled as I sat on the couch. “Water is fine, please.” She nodded and disappeared around the corner, returning a minute later with two bottles of water, one of which she handed to me. “Thanks.”
She sat down beside me and glanced over. “I really appreciate you offering to help. Especially because, you know, you went through your own boards, even though yours were much longer and more complex, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, they weren’t exactly fun,” I quipped. “And I remember studying like crazy just like you are now.”
“Did you find certain studying habits more helpful than others when it came to the boards?”
“Not really. Honestly, I focused more on practice exams for the written portion. I found any and every practice exam I could and just went over those.”
She chuckled. “Well, I have lots of those.” She grabbed her laptop and unlocked it, turning to show me the screen with ten different tabs she had open, each one a different practice exam.
“Are you doing ACNP or FNP?”
“Dr. Tomblin wanted me to have the FNP for the position in the ER.”
“That’s right—Wes told me they made a position for you.
So, Tomblin wants FNP because it focuses on care for all age ranges?
” Haley nodded. “Makes sense.” I took her laptop from her.
“Well, if you want, I can run through some of these practice exams, and if there’s anything you’re not sure about or have questions about… ”
“Yeah, that’ll work.” She shifted on the sofa, turning to face me as she sat crossed-legged. “Hit me.”
I spent two hours with Haley that night, quizzing her and helping her study. And it wasn’t weird at all. If anything, it took my mind off of everything else that usually filled my head.
I went back on Tuesday for another couple of hours, and we exchanged numbers at the end of the night so I could let her know about the next couple of days.
On Wednesday, I had to work, and instead of going to her place after my shift, she met me at mine. We didn’t get too much studying done that night, however, because Maverick decided he wanted all of the attention, and she seemed happy to indulge him.
On Thursday, I got stuck working late, but I told her I could come to her place on Friday.
I had therapy on Friday afternoon, and when I left there, I was a little on edge.
I talked to Nate about how I’d been thinking of Noah a lot more than usual, and not just Noah, but Melanie and the twins, wondering how they were doing.
He suggested that I finally consider visiting them.
He said talking to her was part of my “healing journey” because of the guilt I carried.
I told him no.
I didn’t know if Melanie knew the details of what happened that day, if she’d heard them from someone else in my unit, possibly Colonel Lawson. If she did, she probably hated me, and I wouldn’t blame her. Not one bit. And if she didn’t know and asked me, I didn’t think I could tell her.
It’d been nearly ten months since the deployment, and I still hadn’t talked to anyone about what happened—not my family, not my friends.
I told Nate the bare minimum of what happened for the sake of my therapy, but even then, I didn’t go into too much detail, only explaining in a way that would make him see that I was right in placing blame on myself.
He pieced everything else together over time.
I knew I’d eventually have to face her, but I just wasn’t ready. Not yet.
After the session, I almost messaged Haley to tell her I couldn’t make it, but I didn’t want to go back on my word to help her. So, that night, I was back in her living room, quizzing her from the practice exams we didn’t get to before.