I drag myself through work the next day.
My nine-to-twelve shift feels longer than a twelve-hour one. My head is pounding; my nostrils are swollen from all the crying I did last night. I locked myself in my room and just… broke. I don’t think I fell asleep until six in the morning.
I feel like hell.
And apparently it shows, because even the nurses are giving me a wide berth after I snapped at an intern for leaving a used syringe on the tray. It may have been his first day, but he should’ve known better.
Gail’s already here for his shift, and he keeps hovering instead of taking the hint. Ever since Murphy left, the negativity left with him. Everyone, including Gail, went back to their normal selves.
I don’t know if it’s petty of me or what, but I sure as hell didn’t bounce back with them. They showed me their true colors. Now they get the polite colleague version of me, not the friend.
Gail leans against the nurse’s station while I sign paperwork. “I’m here,” he says. “Why don’t you head out?”
I shake my head. “My shift’s till twelve.”
Before he can say anything or ask why my eyes are swollen, an intern calls him over and I’m gone before he can come back.
With the way I feel, I decide to take a cab home. I don’t trust myself behind the wheel.
Walking up the driveway, I drag my purse like it weighs a hundred pounds. Genesis’s car isn’t here. Damn. I was hoping she’d pick the kids up.
I unlock the door, step inside, and stop dead.
What the fuck.
In my living room, sitting comfortably on my sofa like she lives here, isEloise.
She jumps to her feet the second she sees me. “Hi, Lorelie. I hope it’s okay I used my key.”
I just stare at her. No, it isnotokay she used the spare key we gave them for emergencies to let herself in when I wasn’t home. But saying it won’t make a damn difference now, will it?
When I don’t answer, she tilts her head. “Are you… okay?”
“Am I okay?” I repeat, dropping my purse straight onto the floor.
“Let’s see,” I say, holding up a finger like I’m counting. “I found out my husband cheated. Forgave him. Then found out he lied, shocker, I know. Then I found out he’s an alcoholic, so every time I want to scream or throw something at his head, I can’t, because apparently that’ll send him into a relapse.”
I take a breath before continuing my rant.
“Then his family, which I truly believed wasmyfamily, blamed me for doing the only damn thing Icoulddo.”
My voice cracks, but I keep going.
“And now,” I say, swallowing the burn in my chest, “now he finally says he’s ready for a divorce…” my voice softens, almost embarrassingly, “and I don’t know what to do anymore.”
I gesture at her with both hands, tears burning again.
“Oh. And let’s not forget-” I wave at her, my living room, her coat, her comfortable posture.
“This.”
“Oh,” Eloise says softly. “You… don’t want to divorce?”
I bark a laugh straight at the ceiling. “That’swhat you got out of everything I just said?” I shake my head, helpless. “You know what, never mind. I can’t expect anything else from you, can I?”
I turn on my heel and head into the kitchen, grab a glass, and fill it with water. My hands are shaking so badly I drop it in the sink. Frustrated I turn around, and see she’s still standing in the middle of my living room.
God just take a hint.
