He stands up from his desk, travels around it, and offers me a hand. I take it, and he helps me stand. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’d advise you to sort it out before your next interview. Okay?”
I nod again, shoulder my purse with as much dignity as I can, and turn to him in the doorway. “Thank you for giving me a chance. I appreciate it.”
His smile is sad as he ushers me out. “It was my pleasure. You take care of yourself.”
As I walk through the halls of the hospital, I dig my phone back out of my purse and power it back on, anything to distract me from the hot mess that I’ve quickly become.
An incoming text comes immediately.
Him
Good luck today.
Fresh tears fall, and I rush out of the hospital as fast as I can, the scabs on my heart exposed and raw. It’s then I know that I’ll never be able to get over him. I just have to learn to live without him. Somehow.
CHAPTER 30
REID RATHE
FIVE MONTHS LATER
I walk out of my parents’house and pull my coat tighter around me as I head to my car. The spring’s cold wind just won’t relent today, but at least my visit with my parents went well. They congratulated me on my achieved internship at Joseph Children’s Hospital. I don’t necessarily want to work with just children, but their program is the best on this side of the country. It’s a big achievement, getting accepted, and I walk with my head held up higher than I have in months.
My phone rings, and I dig it out of my back pocket, answering it without even looking at the screen. “Hello?”
“Hey, man,” Dustin says. In the background, I can hear people talking, but it’s muted as though he’s in another room.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Dustin’s been at his parents’ for a few days now, helping them remodel the kitchen, so it’s just been me at the apartment. It’s been lonely, but I’ve found things to do. I’ve taken up knitting. I’m terrible at it, and the guys spend every minute they’re with me making fun of me, but they won’t be joking when they wear the socks I’ve been making. Warm socks save toes.
“Nothing much.”
“How’s the painting?”
“Good, actually. Though the color of the kitchen is weird. Who paints a kitchen yellow?”
I chuckle under my breath as I hop into my car and start it. “I’m assuming your mom picked it out?”
“Yeah,” he grumps. “My dad isn’t too thrilled. He won’t say anything, but it’s written all over his face. Kind of comical, actually. I’m just glad I don’t live here anymore and have to stare at it for hours on end.”
“Small victories.”
“Damn right.”
We’re silent for a moment before I ask, “So, did you call just to check in or…?”
The phone rustles before I hear a deep exhale. “No, actually. I-I don’t even know how to start this conversation.”
“Uh-oh, am I in trouble?”
He snorts. “Not this time, no.”
“Then just let it out. I’m freezing my ass off here.”
“I feel guilty,” he spits out.
I frown and rest my hand on my cold steering wheel. “About what?”
