I reach for her but stop short of touching her. “No—you don’t—”
“Doctor Foley?” Jocelyn says from the doorway. “Can I talk to you about your patient?”
Huh?
She motions with her head, so I follow her toward the OR. “What’s up?” I ask.
She says nothing until we’re alone inside the double doors of the sub-sterile OR hallway, the antiseptic stench of chlorhexidine wafting around us. “You were about to make it worse.”
Um. “You heard that?”
She nibbles her lip. “I—might have been eavesdropping a little bit.”
“Ugh.” I fall backward against a wall and scrub my face. Gnawing stomach pain returns. “Awkward. I’m such an asshole.”
“You’re not, but you were about to start qualifying, and that would’ve only made her feel worse.”
“Is it a stupid rule?” I drop my hands. “She said all the right things. Is it dumb to say no just because we work together?”
“I—I don’t know, Ash. Dating coworkers can be tricky...”
“But am I shooting myself in the foot?” I dig my hand into my hair and pull tight. “I’mso tiredof being alone.”
Funny how easy it is to say to her now. The first time, here in this same hallway a few weeks ago, it stung like ripping barbed wire out of my skin. Now it’s freeing. Joss is the best sounding board ever.
But she’s got her fingers on her angel wing earring, fidgeting. Have I upset her?
“I—I don’t know if I’m the best person to answer that question,” she says.
“Why?” I push off the wall. “You know me best. I want something real. Am I stupid to limit myself?”
Her gaze touches on me, then flits away. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“But not definitely?”
“I don’t know how it will turn out, Ash.” She paces away from me. “And it’s hard for me to put it in perspective. Relationships terrify me. The potential pain outweighs any good. But you—you’re not like me. You have to weigh the risk yourself.”
It takes me a moment to decrypt those words, but I snag on a single part. “Potential pain?”
She grips her elbows, and in that moment she looks so small. So brittle. I’ve never met Brittle Joss. I didn’t know she even existed.
“Yes,pain.” Her voice wavers as she speaks, like the words are hard to say. “Okay. I’m going to tell you something about me that I don’t ever talk about.”
Curiosity rages to life. Is she about to tell me the deep, dark thing? Here in this sterile hallway?
“There is a reason I don’t get close to people, Asher. The truth is, I’m terrified of loss. I’ve lost so many people, and I live inconstantfear of someone else I love dying. To me, any human relationship just provides more opportunity for pain. It’s why I try not to love people. Death is uncontrollable and ittorturesthe living.”
Whoa. Torture?
“Joss—”
My voice echoes against the tile, but I’m unsure how to continue. I mean, I know she lost her parents and brother, but she’s definitely not told me about every person she’s buried. This is way more profound than I thought. Ali is likely the only one who knows the full story. But Joss never shows it. Never talks about it. Any quips she makes are succinct, the subject rapidly changed.
I’m damaged.
I had a nightmare.
I like to play chicken with my fears.
