“I just don’t want to be distracted while at work.” I force out a smile. “What were you saying about the patients?”
Aiden observes me for a moment longer. I think he might insist on probing further, since, just like the rest of my family and friends, he also isn’t Damien’s biggest fan, but he shakes his head and smiles. “The guy was smashed in the head with a pan. Where does that go on our list of crazy shit that comes through the ER?”
A soft chuckle escapes me. “Probably somewhere between using a screwdriver as a sex toy and accidentally running over somebody’s foot while parking a car?”
“Yeah, probably.” Aiden taps the side of his chin. “Maybe under that woman who threw the bottle at her boyfriend’s head when she found him cheating on her.”
My nose scrunches. “Yeah, that one was a bloody mess that could have ended so badly. I don’t even think the guy realized how lucky he was. I swear, they don’t warn you about the amount of insanity you’ll see here.”
“Do you think anybody would willingly apply if they did?” Aiden bumps his shoulder into mine playfully. “What do you have?”
“Just a twisted ankle that I should really check on.” I grab an ice pack from the freezer. “Time to get back to work.”
By the time I exit the medical center, I’m beat. I had a patient come in just at the end of my shift with a deep cut that required extensive wound care, then I had to deal with all my charting afterward.
Now it’s late, or I guess early, depending on how you look at it. The sun is just peeking through the clouds and coloring the sky in deep shades of reds and oranges as I make my way across the parking lot toward my car. I’m ready to get home and draw myself a hot bath so I can soak my aching body and relax before I crash in bed and sleep for the next ten hours straight.
The sudden buzzing of my phone snaps me out of my thoughts and has me tensing up. Damien hasn’t stopped calling me since I hung up on him yesterday, and I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t want to answer and listen to another one of his rants about how I’m not good enough or how he doubts me. I hadn’t even thought about breaking things off until he brought it up, but once the words were out in the open, there was no taking them back. More than that, there was no taking back the weight that had been lifted off my shoulders the moment I ended things. The weight I didn’t even realize I’d been carrying.
I’d like to think he loves me and we’ll figure this out, but somewhere along the way, I’ve given up on believing that will ever happen.
Damien:
I was an asshole.
Can we talk?
Please?
I’m sorry, okay?
I had a few drinks with the guys, and I crossed the line. It was a shitty day.
I want to make this right, babe.
My teeth sink into my lower lip as I read the messages that keep popping up. The pleadings and apologies. How long will they last this time?
Damien:
We can make this work.
Jessy, please, let’s talk.
Jessica:
There is nothing to talk about. You said everything you had to say earlier, loud and clear.
Damien:
I didn’t mean it. You know how I can get.
Oh, yes, I know exactly how he can get. I’ve been on the receiving end of his verbal lashings more than once. When everything I said or did was wrong. When his displeasure was always my fault. It didn’t matter if it was something thathappened at work, if I couldn’t make it for a date, if I said something he didn’t like, or if I wasn’t adventurous enough in bed.
Damien:
My mouth is faster than my brain.
You know me, babe.
