“What the—”
In a cutting gesture, she raises a hand. Everything about her is razor-edged. “I’m not going to argue. I was only trying to say that I don’t like you, but I’m not a cruel person, and what I said that day was mean. You didn’t deserve it. I was... not in a good place. I apologize.”
I want to tell her to piss off. My gut instinct is a raging bull of indignation and resentment. How dare she perceive the hostility between us as my fault? I’ve done nothing wrong.
Or... have I?
I try to recall my first days at the hospital. What had Cassie said?
The girls and I are heading to a wine bar.
The girls and I do an annual Christmas exchange.
The girls and I are attending the medical society dinner.
All in her haughty Cassie voice. Was I supposed to take those blunt statements as invitations? Where was the additionalWould you like to come?
She thinks I hide behind a front? I don’t. I hide behind fear.
Which is... a thinly veiled front, I guess. Shit. Is this what people think? That I’m fake because I won’t engage below the surface? I’m just trying to protect myself.
I think you need to focus on what you have, not what you have the potential to lose.
You aren’t running, Joss. You’re hiding.
Argh! Why is his voice popping up now? Stupid Asher and his wise observations about my life. I swallow down the urge to spew hatred and try to smile instead. “Thanks.”
“Wow. You look like you’re in pain.” Laughing, Cassie takes her mug and stands. “Good luck with yournon-boyfriendthing. I heard he’s taking a resident out this weekend, so I guess you’re not lying.”
Too shocked to respond, I only watch as she struts away, the boxy hospital scrubs somehow flattering her enviable figure. Asher asked someone else out? Some resident? Only days after claiming he’s in love with me?
... And I rejected him.
He didn’t even give me a chance to explain, and he’s moving on?
Cassie’s at the threshold of the lounge, one foot in the hallway beyond when my impulsive mouth betrays me. “Which resident?”
Pausing, she looks back at me, then laughs. “You don’t even know which one? You must have really fucked up.”
She walks away, shaking her head, and I’m left to question how my heart is pounding so hard when it has ceased to exist.
When I arrive home, I make a PB&J and open EverX. The app has been useless to me over the past couple months, but I need it now. If Asher’s going to be seriously dating, I’ll require distraction.
I scroll through my matches while my jaw fights with the overload of peanut butter in my mouth. My attention snags on a familiar picture.
Ashton.
Still labeled Sebastian on his profile.
Without stopping to consider, I open his message stream.
You still dtf?
Aren’t you the girl who said I look weird?
I said you look like someone I know
There’s a difference
