Chapter 35
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Life went on. Hospitals didn’t stop for heartbreak. They didn’t pause for moral dilemmas or messy personal fallout.
They just kept moving, one patient at a time, one crisis bleeding into the next.
Meanwhile, I stared at a cursor flickering on a screen at the nurses’ station, doing my best to focus.
Whatever this place had become, I still had patients who needed me, and if staying here meant I had to learn how to exist in the same building as the man who’d broken my heart and shattered my trust, then I could do it.
The whispers had been swirling around all morning though, making it even harder to concentrate. They slid through the hallway like antiseptic fumes. Conversations dipped as I passed and voices lowered just enough to make it obvious they weren’t meant for my ears, which only made them louder.
“Bree,” Jenna called, catching up beside me as I started pushing away from the counter. Her eyes flicked around nervously before settling on my face. “Is it true? You and Crowne had some kind of confrontation?”
I kept my expression neutral, but only because I didn’t want her to see how badly I was hurting. Although I’d briefly considered dismissing the rumors, I’d decided to not lie for him. These people had a right to know their lives were about to blow up in their faces.
Plus, if he was going to make this kind of decision, he was sure as hell going to have to own up to it. I lifted my chin slightly, needing something—anything—to give me the courage to say this out loud.
“There are more cuts coming and they’re going to hurt. All I did was tell him exactly what I thought about his brilliant ideas.”
Her lips parted. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
Another nurse leaned closer. “What kind of cuts?”
“The kind that affect people who’ve been here a long time,” I said, my voice flat. “He has no idea how fast this place to going to go to hell in a handbasket if he goes through with it.”
Both nurses nodded and took off, and the truth spread like wildfire from there. I could practically feel it catching, hopping from one staff member to the next. Someone squeezed my arm in solidarity as they passed by me a few hours later. Someone else muttered, “Good for you.”
I didn’t feel good about it. All I felt was hollowed out, and I kept my head down from then on, doing my best to go about my day and take care of my patients without getting distracted.
The last thing I needed was to become the unofficial spokesperson for hospital outrage.
I barely trusted my own emotions right now, let alone everyone else’s.
Naturally, that meant karma had to go out of her way to distract me.
Sullivan stepped out of an elevator at the far end of the hall in one of his crisp suits, his posture rigid and his presence instantly commanding attention the way it always did.
For a split second, my heart reacted on instinct, a stupid, traitorous flutter that hadn’t gotten the memo that we were over.
His gaze found mine almost immediately, but I pivoted before he could even take a step toward me, ducking into the stairwell and letting the metal door slam shut behind me. The echo rang through the concrete shaft as I leaned back against it, pressing my palms flat against the cool surface.
My chest rose and fell too fast, my entire being yearning to go to him. But no. Absolutely not.
I pushed off the door and climbed two flights before leaving the stairwell, weaving through service corridors like I was navigating a battlefield. As much as it sucked to feel like I’d had part of my soul severed, I was finished with him.
Finished with the charm, the excuses, and the way he could make me feel like I was the only person in the world while simultaneously dismantling this place piece by piece.
Honestly, the best thing he could do now would be to fire me.
If he could just do that, it would be a clean break.
I could walk away from this entire mess without having to watch him slowly destroy the hospital while pretending I didn’t know what he looked like naked or how his laugh sounded when he was genuinely happy.
It would hurt, but it would be simpler.
I spent the rest of my shift moving from room to room, running on autopilot, drawing on the professionalism that had been drilled into me since nursing school. I checked vitals, administered medications, and updated charts.
Mrs. Donnelly needed help adjusting her pillows. Mr. Reyes wanted reassurance about his test results. A new admission arrived with chest pains that turned out to be panic induced, which meant I spent twenty minutes talking him through breathing exercises while monitoring his heart rate.
My hands did their job flawlessly, but my brain felt like it was crackling with static.
I caught myself rereading chart entries three times before they made sense.
I forgot where I’d put my pen even though it was just in my pocket.
At one point, I walked into a supply closet and stood there staring at shelves of gauze and saline, completely unsure why I’d opened the door in the first place.
This place used to feel like home. It had given me purpose. Pride. A sense that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Now, it felt abrasive. Like wearing one of those thin paper gowns that had thrown me into his orbit to begin with.
Every page over the PA made my shoulders tense. Every time I glimpsed a dark suit at the end of a corridor, my stomach twisted before I could stop it.
By mid-afternoon, exhaustion had settled into my bones but not the physical kind. I could work twelve-hour shifts without blinking. This was different, an exhaustion that lived behind my ribs, pressing inward and making it hard to take a full breath.
The day dragged like it had weights strapped to its ankles, but I made it through my shift without crying, went home, and microwaved leftover pasta I barely tasted. Then I fell asleep fully dressed on top of my comforter.
When I woke up again, sunlight streamed through my blinds, bright and unapologetic. My phone had been mercifully silent, but when I checked it, I still felt a searing ache at not seeing his name on it anymore.
Logically, I knew he couldn’t reach me. I remembered blocking him. It wasn’t about that. This was more about the fact that I’d had to do it in the first place, but it was my day off and I was determined to deal with my emotions like a functional adult.
I had precisely one day to get my head back in the game, so instead of burrowing into my pillow and spending the day in the fetal position, I forced myself out of bed, showered, and drove across town to meet my dad at the walking trail he liked near the river.
He was already there, stretching one calf against a park bench when I pulled up.
He waved when he spotted me, his smile warm and immediate, like he hadn’t aged a day since I was a kid, running toward him after school. Tears sprung to my eyes at the realization. No matter what else had changed, he was here for me. So was my mom. Always.
My parents, but not Sullivan’s. I swallowed hard and shook off the thought. While I genuinely understood his drive and why his precious technology meant so much to him, I couldn’t excuse how he was going about achieving his dreams like they were the only ones that mattered.
“Hey, Peanut,” my dad said when I joined him.
I gave him a quick hug. “You know I’m not six anymore, right?”
“That doesn’t matter,” he said easily, falling into step beside me as we started down the paved path. “You’ll still be my peanut when you’re eighty.”
We walked in silence for a few minutes, the early morning air crisp and birds arguing in the trees. Usually, all of this would bring a smile to my face and the tension would start easing out of my muscles, but not today.
“You look like you swallowed a lemon,” Dad said finally.
I breathed out a laugh. “Am I that obvious?”
“Well, you have been sighing every third step, so yes. Yes, it is that obvious. Especially to those of us who love you.”
A lump appeared in my throat so fast, it caught me off guard. I focused on the grass snaking lazily beside the trail instead of responding. I didn’t even know where to start.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked gently. “You didn’t throw another cannoli at your boss, right?”
“No,” I said slowly. “This is more than that.”
Dad waited then. He’d always been good at that, giving me space to talk without prying.
I exhaled hard before I finally just said the first words that popped into my head, even if they did come out staggered. “Things got personal. With him. My boss.”
Dad’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t interrupt. We just kept walking like we always did, though our pace was slower today.
“We started seeing each other,” I said, the words tasting strange out loud. “Secretly. Because obviously, that’s a terrible idea, dating your boss, and I knew it was a terrible idea. I just did it anyway.”
He nodded once. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I repeated.
“Yeah,” he said. “People do complicated things when they have complicated feelings.”
I stared straight ahead, surprised he was taking it in stride like this. I’d thought for sure he’d be disappointed in me at the very least, but instead, he was just quiet, patiently waiting for me to tell him what happened.
“I thought maybe he wasn’t as awful as everyone thinks, and he’s not, Dad.
That’s the worst part. He’s thoughtful, and funny, and when he’s with me, he’s not this ruthless corporate bulldozer, but then he turns around and makes decisions that hurt people I care about, and I can’t reconcile those two versions of him. ”
Dad shoved his hands into his pockets. “Did he lie to you about what he was doing?”
“No,” I admitted. “He just didn’t tell me and I found out in the worst way possible.”
“Ah.”
I glanced at him. “That’s all you’ve got? Ah?”
He smiled faintly. “I’m gathering information before I dispense fatherly wisdom.
” We walked a few more steps before he spoke again.
“Relationships aren’t usually smooth sailing, Bree.
Even the good ones hit rough water. Your mom and I—” He shook his head, chuckling under his breath.
“We fought like hell about money when we were first married. About work schedules. About where to live. Loving someone doesn’t magically make you agree on everything. ”
“This feels bigger than disagreeing about where to live,” I said quietly.
“Maybe it is,” he conceded without arguing. “The question isn’t whether it’s hard, though. It’s always going to be hard. The real question is whether it’s healthy. Does he respect you? Does he listen when you push back?”
I thought about Sullivan standing in my kitchen, letting me argue with him about hospital morale. Rubbing my shoulders while promising to try. Agreeing to disagree without denying what was happening between us.
“Yes,” I said reluctantly. “He does.”
“Do you respect him?”
I hesitated a little longer this time. “I want to. I just don’t respect some of his choices.”
“That’s fair,” Dad said. “You’re allowed to hold someone accountable and still care about them.”
I swallowed. “I broke up with him. Pretty spectacularly.”
“Oof.”
“Yeah,” I said miserably. “I told him we were done and stormed out of his office after accusing him of not caring because it wasn’t his job on the line.”
Dad winced in sympathy. “That’s some pretty strong phrasing.”
“I was upset.”
“I gathered.”
We reached a bend in the trail where the trees opened up. Sunlight warmed my skin. He slowed slightly, glancing at me. “What scares you more? Is it that he’ll never change or that he might, and you’ll have to figure out how to make it work?”
The question felt like a sucker punch, but I didn’t have an answer, so I just stared at the trees swaying in the breeze. “I don’t know.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Here’s what I know.
You don’t have to figure it out alone. Your mom and I?
We’ve got you. If things blow up at work and you need to quit, you come home.
You stay as long as you need to until you’re back on your feet.
Don’t stay at that job simply because you don’t think you can afford to leave. ”
My chest constricted painfully. “Dad—”
“I’m serious,” he said, bumping his shoulder gently against mine. “You’re not trapped, Peanut. Never. You’ll always have somewhere safe to land.”
Tears blurred my vision before I could swallow them down. “You’re going to make me ugly cry on a public walking trail.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said cheerfully.
I wiped at my eyes, drawing in a long, steady breath.
I realized then that my dad was right. Because of them, I wasn’t trapped.
Quitting wasn’t my style and it would suck to be saddled with all that debt to repay to a place Sullivan was now in charge of—to him.
But at the same time, because I knew my parents really would always have my back, I had a choice, and right now, that meant everything.