I love my job. I love what it gives to me—purpose,independence, the reminder that I’m more than a wife and mother.
But you love Rhys more. You love your family more, Jayne. If you keep choosing yourself, you’ll lose your husband, and your kids will lose their father.
I press my palms to my eyes, tears slipping out before I can stop them. The kitchen is dim except for the glow over the sink, the dishwasher humming like it’s the only steady thing in this house.
And in that half-dark, with my chest aching and my breath catching, I make a decision I hate.
Tomorrow, I’ll talk to Daniel.
I’ll go on indefinite leave.
BecauseI don’t want to lose my marriage. Not without a fight. And if that means I have to be the one to stop running first, I will.
CHAPTER 18
Rhys
After a night that was a clusterfuck, the day starts like a sprint I never agreed to run.
Aortic valve replacement at six.
Post-op check at nine.
A department meeting at ten that devolves into a shouting match about budget allocations.
By noon, I’ve had three cups of coffee, no water, and a headache that feels like a steel band tightening around my skull.
By one, I’m running on fumes.
The cafeteria smells like burnt coffee and antiseptic. I grab a turkey sandwich I don’t want and a bottle of water I won’t drink. I sit by the window, watching an ambulance back into the bay, lights flashing red against the glass.
It’s the same rhythm every day: chaos, adrenaline, silence, repeat.
Things were getting better at home, but then I got cocky and slipped up again and again. Then I fucked up big time last night by losing my temper. Jayne has a right to be as pissed as she is. While I’m making excuses for dropping the ball, she’s the one who has to make it right.
What hurt the most and got my back up was her comment about Finn, that he’s protecting me from her.
Christ!I have turned into my father.
I used to do that, too. Not tell my mother things because then she’d get upset, they’d fight, my father would say hurtful shit, and my mother would cry.
My son is following in my footsteps, and it’s my fault.
Jayne and I barely spoke to each other this morning. I could tell she’d been crying. Her eyes were puffy, and I felt it deep inside of me. I wanted to say something, but my phone went off, and that was that.
Story of our lives.
The guilt’s there, sitting right behind my ribs, gnawing like acid. I want to do everything. I want to be the husband she deserves, the father my kids need, the surgeon my patients expect. But somewhere in trying to be everything, I’ve managed to fail at all of it.
Late afternoon, right before I think about going home early, I get Paul’s text:Need to lift or I’ll kill an intern. Join me.
When I get to the gym, I spot Claire sitting on abench outside the locker room, her tablet balanced on her lap. She looks up and smiles when she sees me.
“Hey!” I lean down and brush my lips against her cheek and give her a quick hug. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I’m saving Paul from himself.”
I grin. “Yeah, I got an SOS from him.”
