Prologue
I sitin the waiting room surrounded by my friends and Brodie’s family. The hospital staff goes in and out through the operating room doors. We all look in that direction with hopes that it may be news awaiting us—an update on what happened after Brodie was rushed into the OR. Another patient is being moved down the hall on a hospital bed, an IV bag of fluids dripping in sync with the beeping monitor as he passes by. Every sound seems to be intensified, every smell much more potent. Dax is by my side. His thumb rubs circles in a continuous soothing manner on the top of my hand. The rhythmic motion settles me as the callous weight of his fingers offers me the stability my hand needs not to shake. The fact that he hasn’t left my side speaks volumes about his character. The way he handled the situation at the beach. The authoritarian personality and calm with which he controlled the situation—the accident. If I weren’t so shell-shocked, I would have been turned on witnessing him perform in such a manner. If it had not been Brodie there on the wet sand, limp and unconscious. If a million things were different.
Brodie’s parents are here. It’s a stressful time for all of us without dealing with the awkwardness of this parent’s divorce and the bitterness between the two parties. His dad must have flown on the interstate to get here in that record time. Everyone sits in silence, waiting to hear the outcome of Brodie’s surgery. Finally, in what seems like an eternity, a man wearing blue scrubs accompanied by a female in similar attire exits the operating room doors and asks for the family of Brodie. His parents stand and walk down the hall within view to receive the much-awaited results of the surgery. It’s as if time stands still, and you can hear a pin drop. Except for the steps on the freshly waxed, tiled floor, no other sound exists.
The surgeon speaks, and then his mom raises her hands to her mouth, and a sob escapes, relinquishing a terrible cry of her pain. Brodie’s dad just shakes his hands around, asking spitfire questions, not allowing a moment to pause for an answer. The surgeon just shakes his head in acknowledgment. His dad puts his hands up to his eyes and lowers his head. The surgeon touches his shoulder and says something to them before walking back to our group. I rise from my chair as though I am being pulled toward this invisible force.
As I stand, the surgeon stops at our group and says, “Is there a Liv here?”
I look at him, stunned and unable to speak. I feel a nudge from my side.
The surgeon begins to speak, and I don’t hear what he says. He repeats, “Brodie is awake and was asking for you specifically. He wants to see you.”
I gasped. A breath let out that I didn't realize I was holding as it rushed out. I feel Dax bring my hand to his lips and gently kiss them. The heat of his mouth makes me shudder. He releases my hand without saying a word, telling me to go. I walk away, following the doctor without looking back. I know he won’t be there when I return to the waiting room, and that this is goodbye.
ChapterOne
Liv
Something about drivingwith the windows down while cruising over the causeway makes me smile. The second I lower the window, the familiar scent of saltwater washes through the car. The beach has always been my happy place, and l was damn lucky to find an apartment and job so close to it. While I make my way down the highway toward work, I steal glances at the view. The waves, the people sunning themselves on the beach, the surfers in the water, and even the seagulls squawking overhead make me smile. I drink it all in for a moment… that is until the hot as fuck blast of steam assaults my face and I’m ripped back to reality.
God, it’s hot as Hades today. I pull at my shirt as the sweat trickles down into my cleavage. I turn off on the next exit ramp and pull into the employee parking lot of the Bayside Hospital Emergency Department.
“Great,” I mutter to myself. Quickly looking around, I see multiple ambulances parked in the designated bays. It’s going to be a busy night. “What else is new?” I breathe out in a long, exaggerated sigh.
This is the norm for the start of any weekend, but this isn’t just any weekend. It’s spring break on Padre Island—guaranteed to supply an endless amount of ER visits from sun-induced dehydration to broken bones to college kids who have one (or five) too many beers. Lucky me.
With my work bag slung over my shoulder and iced coffee in hand, I make my way to the front doors. I say a silent prayer and hope that if I hide my badge and don’t make eye contact, then no one will stop and ask me anything. This is my reasoning, at least, to not be bothered with a million questions before I start my shift. I walk past the triage desk in the emergency room and subtly scan the packed waiting room. It’s already filled with patients. I head to my locker, throw my bag in and make a spot for my lunch in the fridge, gently squishing it into a packed space. Geez, I hope my leftovers from dinner last night don’t fall out because that would royally suck. I had blackened catfish the previous night, and I plan on reheating it later. Nothing worse than stinky fish in the lunchroom, I chuckle to myself. Besides, there are worse smells in this place.
I keep a firm hold on my iced coffee as I leave the break room. I wish I could shoot this stuff straight into my circulatory system to get one immediate, gratifying caffeine rush. Lord knows I need it this evening. I blame the grounds crew mowing at my apartment complex for my lack of energy today. I know they have to cut the grass, but it seriously kept me from my usual death-like sleep. Working the night shift can be challenging. They must have mowed the grass for at least four hours. Not even the white noise produced by my oscillating fan could get the job done.
Although I’d like to blame it all on that, it isn’t the real reason I had shit for sleep. I am sure I would have tossed and turned despite the incessant noise outside my window. I’ve had a ton of crap on my mind lately, precisely the unpleasant subject of my current boyfriend, Brodie. Being in a perpetual state of limbo with this guy is just dragging me down. Our relationship status is something we decided to chat about this weekend. It shouldn’t be this hard. We’ve known each other practically our whole lives. Before I go too far down that rabbit hole, I shove these thoughts to the back of my mind.
First things first, I just have to get through this shift. I walk to the nurses’ station, take one last swig of my highly caffeinated drink, and reluctantly place it in the cubby. It sits among countless other beverages taking up residency there, condensation pooling all around the surface. The assignment board is already updated. I scan it quickly and begin my hunt for Emma. I need to get a report on her patients so she can get out of this place. At least one person will be having fun tonight. Why did I sign up for this shift? Oh yeah, I need the money.
I shift my gaze down one of the corridors and spot who I’m looking for. Blond hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, Emma is not only a nurse that I happen to be relieving at shift change but also one of my best friends. As high energy as ever, I can hear her excitedly babbling to one of our attendings. Her hand gestures raised above her head are so fast that I think she may accidentally smack him in the face. There’s a reason people refer to her as the energizer bunny. We both took the sign-on bonus offered at the hospital after our nursing school graduation a couple of years ago. She took a job on the twelve-hour day shift while I decided to take the opposite twelve-hour night shift. My decision to take the less desirable shift allowed me to enroll in classes for my bachelor’s degree. Classes during the day, work at night. Grueling schedule for sure, but it’s getting me where I want to be, so I’m sucking it up and embracing the chaos. My social life has taken a hit between school and work, but I’ll graduate with my BSN in a couple of months and then continue to Houston, where I’ve been accepted into nurse practitioner school. Soon I’ll be leaving this town and on to bigger and better things. Emma catches my eye, and I nod to let her know I’m here.
As I walk toward her, she flashes me a huge smile. “Thank God you’re here. It’s been hell today.”
I can’t help but stifle a laugh. “You say that every shift.”
She carefully counts the narcotics remaining in the bin and enters the correct count before closing it. “I only say it because it’s true.” She giggles. “I hope your night is better, but looking at the stack of pending charts…” she trails off and gives me a sympathetic frown. Ready to brave the shift, I chuckle and head toward the nurse’s station.
“Judging by the waiting room, I think I’m forever and eternity fucked tonight. Let’s hope nothing memorable happens.” Emma gently squeezes my shoulder before shoving some charts into my hands.
“Come on, Liv, I’ll give you a report on my patients. Room ten has some pain meds ordered, and I’ll give her those before I leave. Can you reassess her pain in a bit?”
Thank goodness for Emma. The woman looked very uncomfortable when I peeked in as we passed her room. I do not want her to wait for her pain medication until after our shift change. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to give you a report on the rest of my patients. The sooner I do, the sooner I can get my drink on tonight.” With that, she turns on her heels and prances down the hall.
Ten minutes later, she popped back up by my elbow. I’m only half-listening as she gives me the sign-out on her patients. “The labs on the patient in room eight just came back, and room two is…” She can tell by the look on my face that I’m in no mood for work. “You know we’re all going to miss you tonight, right? It’s the first time in a long while that we’ve all been able to get together.” I didn’t need the reminder. The fact that I was missing out on tonight was a bit of a sore spot. Our mutual high school friends are returning again for the continuous spring break beach party. The days at the beach, sea sculptures, and live entertainment are just some things that happen on the island during this carnivalesque time.
“You have no idea how jealous I am right now, Em?” She makes a melodramatic pouty face while holding both arms out for a hug.
I give her a quick squeeze feeling utterly deflated. For a second, I consider telling my manager I’m not feeling well so I can go home. But my stupid conscience won’t allow it. I will only call out from my shift if I’m dead or dealing with some other near-death experience. I’m not sure even that wouldn’t require a call-out. As tired (and jealous) as I am, missing work is not an option. I need every penny for graduate school; the move to Houston won't be cheap.
“I’ll see them tomorrow, Em. Actually, in less than twenty-four hours, you know that.” As positive as I try to sound on the outside, I’m internally cursing this shift. “Well, I want lots of pics tonight to make me feel like I am there with you guys.”
“Of course,” Emma quickly replies. “You know we will. I expect to meet up with the whole gang later tonight, and I will send pics of that. You better go straight to bed after your shift and get the best four hours of sleep because I am picking your ass up by noon, got it?”
