I slide into the breakroom, completely exhausted as I lay my head down on the table. Just one second. It’s all I need to try to catch my breath before the mayhem drags me back in.
My phone buzzes. I groan, realizing I haven’t checked it in hours.Shit.
There are two messages from Mom, asking if I’m coming todinner. I’m not, and honestly, I can’t muster the energy to explain why. There’s one from Juliette, a sweet check-in because she always knows when I’m overwhelmed. But it’s the one from Cal that does me in.
Callan:
Hey, I know today’s been rough, so I just wanted to remind you that you’re literally one of the coolest people I know. If life were a pizza, you’d be the extra cheese. No one can resist you, and you make everything better.
I stare at it for a moment, a lump rising in my throat. It’s such a Cal thing to say. Sweet and goofy. It’s just what I need, but it’s also the thing that’s about to break me.
I miss him something fierce. Three weeks have passed since I came home, and it feels like both forever and the blink of an eye. Time’s become a blur of endless twelve-hour shifts, snatched meals between patients, and crashing into bed only to wake up and do it all again. My thoughtful neighbor has been looking after Nugget during the day, saving me from losing my mind completely.
No matter how full my days are, I can’t escape the ache. I catch myself wishing for just one moment to breathe, just enough time to hear his voice. The way I keep expecting him to walk through the door like he’s just running late is ridiculous. Like he’s not thousands of miles away, living his life on the other side of an ocean. That empty space where he belongs just keeps stretching, growing bigger, and I don’t know how to fill it.
It’s getting late in Scotland, but he always insists I call whenever I get a chance. “Doesn’t matter what time, Sunshine. Just call me,” he’d told me the other night, like he already knew I’d try to argue.
I stare at his name on the screen, my thumb hovering over the call button. I’m a second away from hitting it. Before I can,a text from the charge nurse pops up, dragging me back into reality.
Boss Lady:
We need you in Room 12.
I let out a sigh, locking my phone and shoving it back into my pocket. Figures. There’s never a quiet moment around here, and today’s no exception.
As I turn to leave, my partner in crime, Zoey, strolls in. She’s always a burst of energy, even while the rest of us are running on empty. “Where are you off to? I was planning on dragging you into some gossip,” she teases, flopping into the chair I just vacated.
“I’ve been summoned,” I reply with an exaggerated roll of my eyes. “God forbid I get five minutes of peace.”
She huffs, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “Shoot. Fine, I guess I’ll see you when we head out.”
“Yep, see you later.” I give her a quick wave before heading out the door. My steps are quick, but my mind isn’t. All I can think about is how much I need to hear his voice tonight.
Two more hours. Just one hundred and twenty minutes, and then I’m off for a few days.I’ve got this.
A panicked voice shouts my name from down the hall. “Bree, hurry up!”
My heart skips, adrenaline surging as I spring into action and break into a jog. The squeak of my sneakers echoes against the tile floor, almost jarring in the otherwise quiet hall. I race toward the room, the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights above making everything too bright and way too intense. I don’t hesitate. There’s always someone who needs me, and I’ve never been the one to stop.
Inside the room, chaos reigns. Voices clash, orders being thrown out over the sound of monitors screaming theirwarnings. I step in, moving like I’ve done a thousand times before, hands already working with precision. Every motion is instinct, my training taking over and pushing everything else out of the way.
There’s no time to acknowledge the discomfort in my legs or the throbbing headache that’s been lingering for hours. I focus with steady hands, despite the rush of everything around me. I clamp down on the exhaustion creeping in and the thoughts trying to pull me under. I breathe in even breaths. One task, one movement, one heartbeat at a time.
Minutes stretch into what might be an eternity. Then slowly, it starts to settle. The frantic energy in the room dissipates, leaving behind an almost oppressive silence.
I lean back against the wall, the aftermath of it all crashing over me in one heavy breath. For a moment, my pulse is the only thing I hear. The edges of my vision blur for a second, but I fight it off.
I step into the hallway, the world moving on around me as though nothing’s changed. Nurses bustle past, patients shout out requests, the familiar hum of the hospital continues its rhythm. For some reason, I’m…out of sync. My feet get heavier with each step, like I’m walking through molasses. My heart hammers, too fast, too loud, and my hands shake so much that I have to force them into fists to stabilize myself.
Dizziness creeps in.
The world tilts.
My knees give way beneath me. My body slams to the floor, hard and sudden, pain exploding up my spine. Muffled voices call my name, but it sounds as if I’m underwater.
My body is untethered, disconnected, like I’m floating outside of it. The exhaustion I’ve been pushing down for days finally demands its due, but there’s nothing left insideof me to fight it.
My entire bodyfeels like it’s been steamrolled, reversed on, and then run over again for good measure. Every muscle hurts, and even blinking feels like too much effort.
