by Marni Mann
But I couldn’t leave Rebecca like this. She needed help; she couldn’t carry the entire unit by herself.
“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“I love you, and I owe you big-time,” she said and hung up.
I watched the screen turn black before shoving my phone into my pocket. When I looked at Caleb, he was finishing his beer. He set it on the table and poured my wine into his mouth like it was a shot.
“You’re leaving?”
I walked back over to the couch and sat next to him. “I know the timing isn’t good, but I have to. Rebecca needs me.”
“I need you, Whitney.”
His words were like a knife to the back of my throat, a statement I’d never heard him say unless my clothes were off, the connotation much different than this one.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“When are you going to stop feeling all this guilt? If they call, you answer. If an extra shift becomes available, you take it. This has to end.” There was anger in his eyes, and I didn’t recognize it.
“I’m working on it … you know that.”
His exhale vibrated through my ears.
And my chest was tightening in the most wicked way. “Caleb, just so you know, I’m upset by this too. It hurts me to have to leave.”
“You sure about that?” He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed another beer before leaning against the counter to look at me. “If you’re so torn up about it, then why the hell did you answer if you knew what she was going to ask?” He tossed the metal cap on the island.
“Because it’s my job.”
“Your job isn’t to pick up everyone else’s pieces and clean up their mess. Or to answer your phone every time the goddamn thing rings. Or to work yourself to death, too exhausted on your days off to barely even eat, like tonight. But you do all those things, Whitney.”
My hands began to shake. “You took a client’s call in the middle of sushi. You’re just as married to your job, probably even more so than me.”
He sighed. “That’s different.”
“Oh God.” I moved to the other side of the kitchen, holding the corner of the counter. “Now, we’re going to play double standards?”
“I own a company. I have hundreds of employees depending on me, and I control the wealth of every high roller in New England. Yes, it certainly is different.”
“So, wealth takes precedence over health? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” I crossed my arms over my chest, knowing his shit day was the reason for this fight. The more I fed into it, the worse it was going to get. “Don’t answer that. I’m done with this argument. I have patients to care for.”
“Fucking ridiculous.”
“Would it be ridiculous if you were in the hospital, pounding on your call button and no one answered? Or you were screaming out in pain and no one came to help you? Something tells me, if that were you, you’d have a much different opinion about this.”
Instead of waiting for a response, I walked into the bedroom, locating my scrubs in the corner of his closet, and stripped off my clothes to put them on. My feet went into a pair of clogs, and I situated my workbag across my body, resting it on my hip.
When I returned to the kitchen, he hadn’t moved, and I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, intending to attempt to flush out the glass and a half of wine I’d had with dinner. “I’ll be back when there are enough nurses to relieve me,” I said and turned to leave.
“Don’t go.”
I took another step toward the elevator before turning to face him. “Don’t ask me to do that.”
“Then, I’m going to ask you to quit your job.”
My chest filled with air, as though there were a balloon inside and it was threatening to pop. “Caleb, stop.”
When he placed his beer down, the sound of the glass made me jump. “The one time I told you I needed you, and you’re walking out the fucking door.”
I felt like my body was being carved down the middle, both pieces so severed that I didn’t know which one would survive. “I’m sorry.” Tears were moving into my eyes, my hands squeezing the strap of my bag. “But I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Maybe then you’ll be ready to put this relationship first.”
My feet halted, and I glanced at him over my shoulder. I could no longer hold them back, the drips quickly falling from my eyes. “How dare you say that to me.”
“Thanks for ruining our first night. It’s a memory I’ll cherish forever.”
Each drop felt like fire on my cheeks, burning their way into my skin.
I gritted my teeth together, knowing anything else I said would just goad him more, and I rushed into the foyer. When I got off the elevator and hurried through the lobby, I took out my phone, pressed a button, and held it to my ear.
“Em,” I cried when she answered.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
“We had our first major fight.” Once I was on the sidewalk, I held my arm into the air, hailing a taxi. One pulled over almost immediately, and I climbed in the back. “Mass General,” I told the driver.
“You’re going to work?” Emily asked. “After that whole dinner you planned for him? Oh boy.”
“You have no idea …” I sobbed, holding my forehead, the aching inside far too much. “He was just the biggest asshole.”
“That happens sometimes. They get their periods, like we do. Now, tell me everything, woman.”
Thirty-One
Caleb: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I took everything that had happened at work out on you. That wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. I hope you can forgive me.
Me: You were the biggest dick tonight.
Caleb: I know, and you didn’t deserve that. I wish I could take it all back. I haven’t been able to sleep. All I keep doing is replaying the things I said to you.
Me: I can sympathize with having a bad day, and I accept your apology, but my God …
Caleb: Knowing that I hurt you is tearing me up.
Me: Did you honestly think I wanted to leave? Of course I’d rather be there with you. I would always choose you over my job. I love you, Caleb. But the things you said really stung.
Caleb: You have every right to be upset. I was out of line.
Caleb: Do you have a second to call me?
I read his last message and jogged down the hallway to the break room, holding the phone to my ear.
“Whitney,” he said as the call connected.
“Hi.” I fell into the corner of the couch, knowing I was going to need all my strength to haul myself back up.
“Listen to me. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“What happened between us was beyond awful.” I gripped the armrest, sinking my nails into the material. “I know fights are inevitable, but you have to fight fair. That was a complete shutout, like you were after blood.”
“Fuck …” There was so much remorse in his voice. “I was wrong. I can’t say that enough, and it’s been eating at me since you left.” Each of his exhales sounded more painful than the last.
“You need to understand that Rebecca and Fiona are my work family. If they need my help, I have to be there for them, the same way I would want them to be there for me. And as long as I’m employed at the hospital, that will always be the case.” I tucked my knees into my chest. “Helping people is all I know. If that’s what someone needs from me, it’s impossible for me to say no. I just don’t have it in me.” I stared out the window, the reflection of the room reflecting in the glass.
“That’s one of the reasons I love you, Whitney. I shouldn’t have used it against you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” I wrapped an arm around my knees, holding them tightly. “But some of the things you said about my job weren’t all that far off. I recognize I need to make changes. I’m not happy here, and I haven’t been for a long time. I’m just asking you to be a little patient while I figure this out.”
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“I can do that.”
I leaned my head against the rough cushion, glancing up at the stained ceiling tiles. “Good.” I felt the anxiety start to leave my chest; the last few hours had been almost unbearable. “We need a redo that includes flowers in the Jacuzzi and chocolate-covered strawberries and champagne because that’s what I had planned for us.”
“Dammit, we’ll make it up, I promise you.” He was quiet for a few moments and asked, “What time can you leave the hospital?”
I yawned, feeling the weight of the next nine hours. “Around seven thirty tomorrow morning.”
“How about I pick you up? If you’re not too tired, I’ll take you to breakfast. Then, we’ll come home, and I’ll tuck you in.”
I was envisioning our bed and how amazing it would feel to be under the comforter, my head sinking into the fluffy pillows. “You’re not going into the office?”
“I’ll go in late. I think we could use some time together first.”
I sighed, knowing he liked to be there extra early after his run, especially following a blow like he’d had today.
But he was doing it for me.
We weren’t perfect. We were going to have problems like every other couple, and there would be tears and harsh words, but somehow, we’d make it right again.
There was too much love between us to consider any alternative.
“That sounds like heaven,” I whispered. All I wanted in this moment was to wrap my arms around his neck and tell him how much I cared about him. It would just have to wait until the morning. “I’ll shoot you a text if I’m running late.”
“Sounds good, baby.”
My work phone began to ring from inside my scrubs. “Shit, I’ve got to go. I’m sure they’re calling me about one of my patients. Good night, Caleb,” I said and hung up, holding the other phone to my ear. “This is Whitney.”
“The patient in room 614 needs you. He’s in extreme pain,” the unit secretary said.
I pushed myself off the couch, trying to find enough energy to hurry out of the room. “I’ll be right there,” I told her and disconnected the call.
As I was on my way down the hallway, my personal phone vibrated from my pocket, and I pulled it out and read the screen.
Caleb: Good night, Whitney. I love you.
Thirty-Two
“How are you feeling?” I asked Lindsay, the nurse who was supposed to be on last night but had gotten into a car accident and called in.
She stood next to me inside the nurses’ station, rubbing her neck like it was sore. “Ugh, girl, my husband broke his arm, and we spent most of the night at Newton-Wellesley Hospital’s ER. I’m fine, just a headache from hell and some tenderness. Nothing a little Tylenol can’t handle.” She patted my shoulder. “Thanks for covering for me.”
“Of course.” I smiled, surprised I still had the energy for that. “I’ve updated all the charts. The patients in 602 and 614 have been awake for most of the night. Their pain isn’t improving, so I paged their doctors to up their meds. Still no response from them yet. The patient in 627 just had her bandages changed, but you need to keep an eye on her incision. I’m worried an infection is brewing.”
“Got it. Anything else?” When I shook my head, she draped her arm around me and walked me out from behind the counter. “Now, scooch your buns out of here before another crisis pops up and we keep you for another twelve hours.”
I squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t survive.”
She grinned, watching me take a step back. “Go get some sleep for the both of us.”
“Will do.”
I made my way into the break room and grabbed my bag, slinging it across my body. Rebecca was standing a few feet away, putting on hers.
“How excited are we to go home?” She laughed.
“Like I just won the lottery.”
“Same, sister. Same.” She came closer to me. “Taking the train? I’ll walk with you to the station.”
I looped my arm through hers as we went toward the door. “Nope. Caleb is picking me up.”
“Oh, you lucky girl.”
With our arms still linked, we headed to the elevator and took it down to the lobby. Once we were by the entrance, she slowed and pulled me in for a hug. “Thanks for saving my ass last night. I really don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“I’ve always got your back.”
I held her tighter, thinking of how hard it was going to be to leave her and Fiona; they were going to be devastated. But I needed a new life where my phone didn’t constantly ring, bringing me to a place that was slowly sucking everything out of me.
So many changes.
She pulled away and said, “You’re off for the next three days?”
“Four.” And I had no intentions of picking up any overtime during the break. Caleb and I were still working on my finances and were in the process of consolidating my loans to make my payments easier to handle. That meant I would soon be able to cut down on the extra hours. “Call me if you want to grab lunch.”
“You know I will.”
I waved good-bye as we walked through the door, and I made my way onto the sidewalk, checking the line of cars out front. There were several vehicles along the curb, but none were his. He’d probably assumed I would be running late even though I’d gotten out a few minutes early; plus, the traffic was horrible at this hour.
While I waited, I took out my phone to see if I’d missed a text from him. There wasn’t one, so I clicked on Emily’s last message and began to type.
Me: Caleb apologized late last night. We ended up talking at work, and he felt terrible for the way he’d treated me.
Emily: You survived your first fight. Did you make him grovel?
Me: I told him he was a dick.
Emily: Of course you did, my Vermont angel. Where I would have gone all Boston on him before making him get on his knees and start licking. Proud of you. VERY proud of Caleb.
Me: He’s picking me up, and we’re going to breakfast. There will be licking when we get home. ;)
Emily: That’s my girl.
My phone started ringing, showing Fiona’s name on the screen, and I stared at it for a few seconds. There were times when the emergency department was in a pinch, and I would fill in for one of the nurses. I didn’t even want to have that conversation with her right now. I was too tired. As much as it pained me to do this, I sent her to voice mail and went back to Emily’s message.
Me: Thank you for being the best bestie last night and talking me off the ledge.
Emily: I know you’re not thanking me for that. Hello, it’s in my job description.
Me: I know, but it still makes me feel better to say it. Hey, what are you doing Saturday night?
I glanced up, checking the curb. The same cars were still parked there, and the few new ones weren’t Caleb’s.
Emily: No plans. Whatcha got cooking?
Me: Me? We know the answer to that, lol. But Caleb’s going to play chef for the night, and we want you to come over.
Emily: YES! What can I bring?
Me: Cookies. Mmm, that sounds so good right now.
Emily: Consider it done, girlfriend.
My screen was interrupted again as Fiona’s name came across it, the ringtone Caleb hated so much blasting through the speaker. Rebecca would have called multiple times, too, not settling for my voice mail. When nurses needed help, we could be relentless in our pursuit.
Whenever we eventually spoke, she was going to give me so much hell for doing this, but I didn’t want to be persuaded into going back inside. And if she had any inkling that I was still at the hospital, I just knew she’d convince me to come in for a few hours.
I ignored her call, quickly scanning the cars out front again, and returned to Emily’s text.
Emily: Are you out of work?
Me: Yep, waiting for Caleb to pick me up.
Emily: My kids just arrived, and instead of taking attendance, I’m texting you. I’m
totally winning the Teacher of the Year award.
Me: Get to work. Call me later when you get out.
Emily: Have a mimosa—or three—for me. XO
Me: Done. Mwah!
I was glancing up from my phone when Fiona called again. I couldn’t even confirm what she wanted because she hadn’t left a message. But I knew she wasn’t going to stop unless I answered. I was just so hesitant, knowing how weak I was when it came to my friends. I also knew how that would go over if I had to cancel on Caleb a second time in a row.
But I couldn’t keep blowing her off; that wasn’t like me at all.
I swiped my finger across the screen, held my cell to my ear, and said, “Hey, I’m just leaving—”
“Where the hell are you?” she gasped.
My chest immediately tightened from the sound of her voice, an intensity moving into my throat that set off every nerve in my body. “I’m outside the hospital. I just got off my shift—”
“Get in here right now,” she cried.
“Where?”
“The emergency department.”
“Fiona, I can’t. I’m waiting for Caleb to pick me up—”
“Whitney, listen to me. Come in here right now and fucking run!”
It felt like a fire alarm was going off inside me.
The phone fell from my face, and I didn’t pick it up when it dropped to the ground. I just pushed my feet into the pavement, swinging my arms to gain momentum, and I sprinted as fast as I could through the double doors.
As I approached the check-in area, Charlie, one of the police officers who had been working security since the bombing, said, “Hey, Whitney.”
I didn’t respond as I ran by him, weaving around all the patients who were huddled near the entrance, and past triage. My bag slapped against my hip as my legs pushed into the ground, the hood of my sweatshirt bouncing on the back of my neck, my breath pounding in my lungs.
