Chapter 7 #2
Hope your day is going well. Mine is crazy as usual.
Must be nuts if you aren’t answering. Get in touch when you can.
What was the name of that spice blend we found at the specialty market?
Are you okay?
I feel like a creepy stalker at this point, but I’m worried about you.
It feels so strange not to talk to you for an entire day.
I don’t like this at all.
I can’t stop wondering what I did to make you ignore me. Whatever it is, give me a chance to apologize.
Now I’ve blown past Worried Boulevard and come to the intersection of What the Fuck and Terrified.
Fuck this. If I don’t hear from you within the next hour, I’m coming over.
I checked the time on the last message and then gasped when I heard a faint banging sound from outside. I looked out and saw Roscoe standing on my porch with his phone in one hand and the other rapping on my front door.
I hit the button to call him, and he looked down at his phone before he answered. “What’s going on, Serana?”
“I’m not hurt or sick, Roscoe. I was just . . . having a moment.”
“Let me in,” he ordered.
“I just needed some time, but I’ll be . . .”
“Let. Me. In.”
“I’m not at my house,” I explained. I walked out of the greenhouse and said, “Look to your right.”
Roscoe saw me and hopped off the porch before he started striding across the grass. As he got closer, I could see the determined look on his face and found myself wondering if I should be worried for my safety. I’d never seen Roscoe angry before. Upset? Yes, but never angry.
It didn’t take him long to get to me, and even though that sliver of fear was still there, I didn’t shrink away. The second he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest, I knew I should have never doubted him.
“I don’t like this at all,” Roscoe said as he held me tight. “I don’t know if you’re angry at me for something I’ve done or if you’re just having a day, but I do know that I don’t like going that long without talking to you because it makes my world unimaginably dreary.”
“That’s sweet,” I whispered as I held him just as tight.
“Talk to me, Serana. What did I do? What’s going on?”
“You haven’t done anything but be wonderful, Roscoe. It’s me - I’m the problem.”
“But what a wonderful problem you are,” Roscoe murmured into my hair before he kissed my head. “Talk to me, Serana.”
“I’m not much of a talker.” When Roscoe scoffed, I added, “I’ll talk about pretty much anything but what’s bothering me.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“Bullshit. I know that you’re funny, responsible, driven, stubborn, loyal, wonderful, and a master at avoiding important conversations.”
“Other than my sister, my family is all alive and well as far as I know.”
“You just gave me more information in that one sentence than you’ve given me in months.”
“I don’t want to talk to my friends about my family because I worry that you’ll think I’ll let you down just like I did them.”
“Serana,” Roscoe said as he lifted his head and looked down at my face.
“I know you’ve put me so deep in the friend zone that it’s almost impossible to see me anywhere else, but I’m head over heels in love with you, and have been hoping that someday you’ll reassess our friendship and see if you might be able to feel the same way about me.
If not, then I’ll be content with what we have because I don’t think I can live without you in my life. ”
“That sounds very much like an addiction, Dr. Hamilton,” I tried to joke.
“It is. I’m addicted to your laugh, your smile, the scent of your hair when you turn your head and it goes flying around your shoulders. I’m addicted to you.”
I tried to stop my heart from racing at his admission and whispered, “I made a vow.”
Roscoe frowned before he asked, “What was it? Don’t tell me you want to become a nun!”
His exasperation took me by surprise, and I started to giggle uncontrollably. Considering all the naughty thoughts I’d had about him in the last few months, a life of celibacy was not something I would ever consider.
I finally got myself together and wiped the corners of my eyes. “Not that kind of vow.”
“Then what kind?” Roscoe asked as he pulled me close again.
I rested my head on his chest with a sigh. Until now, I had no idea how much I’d missed physical contact and how it would affect me to finally touch someone again. Not just someone - Roscoe. It felt right somehow, as if I were made to fit against him.
I remarked, “Although, I guess it’s a lot like that in a way.”
“Tell me.”
“While I was in prison, I saw women who had been there before and come back, and what I took away from their stories was that they got out of prison, found someone and fell in love, trading one addiction for another and letting their sobriety fall lower on their list of priorities because they were focused on other things.”
“Other things?”
“The giddy feeling of a new relationship, the excitement that goes with that, the roller coaster of emotion when things start to change from exciting and new to mundane and regular, the heartache of a breakup. I promised myself that I’d take a year after my release - and maybe even more, if I needed it - to focus on myself and my path in life.
I can’t let myself get sidetracked, because I’m never going back to prison, and I’m especially never going to fall back into a pattern of addiction. ”
“That sounds very rational and reasonable, although the timeline sucks for me.”
“That’s the thing, though! I met you and wanted to throw my plans out the window.
You’re everything a woman could ever want in a man, and you’re right here in front of me!
The way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention tells me that if I let my guard down, you’ll swoop in and make me forget everything I promised myself. ”
“It doesn’t have to be like that, Serana.”
“It can’t be like that. I have to do this, Roscoe. It’s not just that I want to. I have to prove to myself that I can. If I’m strong enough to stand alone for a year, then I’ll know I’m strong enough to face whatever obstacles are thrown at me when I open myself up to the possibilities ahead.”
“The possibilities? You mean a relationship.”
“That’s what I meant, but then I met you. You’re the possibility, even though you’re everything I swore I was going to avoid.”
“I know I’ve got my quirks, Serana, but I’m really not that bad.”
“No!” I said as I pulled out of his arms and walked back into the greenhouse. I could feel him behind me, so I hurried around the table to put some distance between us before I said, “You’re a doctor.”
“And?”
“I was a nurse. As a matter of fact, when I listen to some of your stories about labor and delivery, it’s all I can do to not burst into tears. I remember all of those scenarios, but I’ll never get to experience them again.”
“You worked in L&D?”
“It doesn’t surprise you that I was a nurse?”
“Not at all. You never questioned some of the things I said.”
“What do you mean?”
“I knew that you were either completely uninterested in what I was saying and didn’t care for an explanation or you were involved in the medical field somehow because you understood the abbreviations and terminology I used.
To outsiders, it’s an entirely different language, but you clearly didn’t need an interpreter. ”
“I miss it.”
“You were an RN?”
“Yes.”
“And now you can’t be licensed?”
“No.”
“That’s years of hard work down the drain.”
“You’re right, but there’s no going back now. Instead of feeling my heart nearly burst with excitement as I watch a woman get her first look at the baby she’s been waiting so long to see, I decorate cakes and cookies.”
“Maybe you could find another way to use your degree. There’s always . . .”
“I can’t work in the medical field in any capacity, Roscoe. The only time I should ever walk into a hospital or doctor’s office is when I’m ill or visiting a friend. Even then, whoever is running the place should keep their eye on me.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“I cared for women who trusted me to have their best interests at heart when I was so jittery that I felt like my bones were made of glass and were going to poke out of my skin. I administered less meds than prescribed because I was using my patients’ meds to take the edge off so I could finish my shift.
I stole from the hospital, my patients, my friends’ medicine cabinets, my doctor’s office when I went in for the sniffles, and the clinic where I volunteered just so I had further access to drugs.
While I was high, I made life-altering decisions for women who had trusted me to take care of them and then drove my car home and risked the lives of everyone else on the road until, early one morning, I crashed into a house and almost killed an innocent little girl who was asleep in her bed. ”
“Oh, Serana,” Roscoe mumbled before he pulled his lips in between his teeth and looked down at the table between us.
“I never told you because I didn’t want to see that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“Disgust.”
“Disgust is not what I’m feeling right now, sweetheart.
It’s understanding. You’re not the first person in the medical field to become an addict.
Sadly, it’s a lot more common than people realize.
We’re surrounded by meds that we know exactly how to use to take away someone’s pain, and it’s way too easy for us to get our hands on them. ”
“Exactly. That’s why I swore I’d never date a doctor or anyone else who has access to the things I still crave.”
“And the man you asked to dance that day just happens to be a doctor.”
I laughed bitterly before I said, “It’s like I have radar or something.”
“I didn’t plan on being there that evening. As a matter of fact, I almost called Josh on the drive to the studio to feed him a lie about a patient needing me just so I could get out of it.”
“We probably would never have met if you’d done that.”
“I don't know about that. Regardless of its actual size, Rojo is still a small town in a lot of ways. I’m connected to Zoey and Emerald, who are a big part of your life here. I’m friends with Farrah’s boyfriend and often see her in social situations.
Since you’re friends with Farrah, you might have been included in some of those.
But even if we didn’t have connections like that, I still think we would have met. ”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because sometimes things happen with no explanation other than that they were inevitable. The saddest moments can lead to the happiest situations.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“How did your parents meet?” Roscoe asked, suddenly changing the subject.
When I didn’t answer right away, he said, “The change that comes over your face at the mention of your family tells me that there’s a story there you’re not quite ready to tell, so I’ll tell you about mine.
However, I’d rather do that over a good cup of coffee and a plate full of artery-clogging breakfast.”
As soon as Roscoe mentioned food, my stomach roared to remind me that I’d eaten the bare minimum to get it to shut up yesterday - two energy bars and the stale crumbs in the bottom of a chip bag.
“Have breakfast with me while I tell you three sad stories that turned into seven wonderful ones.”