“And do you still pay half of your mom’s rent?”
He asked the question so softly an unexpected ache in my chest formed. “My mom is…complicated.” I ended my statement with a shrug of my shoulders.
“What’s she going to do when you go to North Dakota?”
“I’m hoping she’ll figure it out.”
“Are your sisters able to help?”
“Harper has practices and games after school. My other sister is a nanny in New York…” my voice drifted off.
He seemed lost in thought, not saying anything. His gaze locked on the chair in front of us. I chewed on my fingernail until I could no more.
“Do you ever feel resentment?” he asked.
“No.”
He eyed me.
I huffed out a noise that seemed a mixture of annoyance and defiance. “I mean… Maybe. A little. When I was younger, I sometimes wished I could have had time to play sports instead of working after school. But it is what it is. I’ve spent my whole life watching my mom struggle and dig herself into holes she can’t ever seem to get out of. She needs help. She has an addiction to jerk-face losers.”
“Jerk-face losers. Is that the technical term?”
The smile appearing on my face was interrupted by the nurse from the front desk. We both sat up, ready to stand, before she stopped us and bent over next to me, whispering in that way elderly people often do, broadcasting loud and almost shrill throughout our entire section—specifically right in Duke’s ears.
“Sorry, sweetie, it’s not time to go back yet. I was just processing your paperwork, and you didn’t fill out the date of your last period.”
If the shaking shoulders next to me were any indication, it would seem that Duke heard that—as well as the three sections of chairs near us.
I leaned forward. “I didn’t think it was necessary information for a sprained ankle.” Also, because I never tracked it and had no clue the date of my last period.
Her drawn-on eyebrow crinkled, bringing the paperwork up to her eyes to see better. “A sprained ankle? I thought you were here for the”—she leaned even closer, her sour breath a puff of air shooting into my nose—“anal abscess.”
My eyes widened. My mouth opened and closed before opening again. From the corner of my eye, Duke definitely brought a hand up to his mouth.
I gave a tight smile and motioned toward my foot. “No, just a sprained ankle. Are you sure you have the right person?”
She squinted down at her paperwork. “Debbie?”
“Nope. Nora.”
The woman’s cheeks colored as her hands flew to cover her face. “Oh, my lanta, if that wasn’t a HIPAA violation, I don’t know what is. I’m so sorry.”
At this point, a laugh escaped me. “You’re fine. I hope you find Debbie.”
“I tried calling out, but nobody heard me. I was sure she was you.” The distraught nurse backed away, mumbling to herself as she frantically searched the now packed ER. With great regret, I turned my attention back toward Duke.
I put my hand in front of his face. “Not one word.”
He groaned, clutching his chest. “Come on. I can’t keep this in all night.”
“You can, and you will.”
He laughed again, this time his fingers pinching the top of his nose. “I guess we should be grateful it’s only an ankle issue.”
I swatted his arm, making the mistake of meeting his eyes—crinkly and brown and twinkling in a way that had my toes curling. I couldn’t help but smile back, the heat on my face lessening.
“Anyway, go on.” Duke motioned me forward with a flourish of his hand.
