It’s not worth it.
The supposed love of my life turned out to be nothing more than a scheming layabout who perfected the art of love bombing long enough for me to sign a joint lease with him.
His true colors shone through within the month and now we’re both trapped in hell.
A hell that involves digging through the trash at six thirty in the morning because his drunken ass from the night before thought it would be funny to turn off my alarm and toss my car keys.
I find them under a three-day-old banana peel and a rotten tea bag.
My stomach rolls while I waste precious seconds running my keys under the cold water.
How is this my life?
A year ago, everything was perfect.
I had the man of my dreams, this apartment looked like the cutest place I’d ever seen, and I was saving for a trip to visit my family.
Now I’m freezing my fingers off in ice water washing sludge from my keys because my ex is a fucking child and I’m so late for work that I might actually get fired this time.
“When you’re finished wasting time on the couch, can youpleaseclean?” I say to Caleb after drying my hands on the towel. “We’re going to get roaches.”
“You’re never here,” Caleb grumbles, clearly on the edge of falling back asleep. “What do you care?”
“I work in a hospital, Caleb. Are you stupid? Do you think I want to have to detox myself every time I go to work?”
“Then clean,” he grumbles, shoving his face back into his pillow. “No one’s stopping you.”
I have no time.
I have no time for anything at this rate.
With one last withering glance at his sleeping lump on the couch, I have to leave.
Driving to work is my favorite part of the day.
Despite the crisp November air making my car as cold as the morgue, our little apartment is situated high enough that each morning, I drive over the hill and face the first twinkles of the rising sun.
But this morning, there’s no time to enjoy the sun’s pale fingers stretching across the surrounding forest or the far distant lake that glitters because of the ice.
I can’t even admire how the town of Goldwood looks below, nestled into the valley with the late-night frost making everything from here to the horizon twinkle.
I’m so late.
My shift started at five.
Like everything else this morning, finding a place to park is as challenging as getting Caleb to doanythingof worth.
My regular spot is taken by someone else’s car, so I end up parking in the open parking lot and rushing across icy ground toward the entrance.
I’m so dead.
I sprint into Thistle General Hospital just after seven to the furious glare of Jen, my boss.
She sits behind the desk on our floor with a polite smile on her face while she engages in conversation with a patient, but as soon as she spots me out of the corner of her eye, her expression flickers.
She’s mad.
I don’t blame her.
