I drew in a shaky breath. “Jay?—”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “That wasn’t fair.”
“It wasn’t,” I whispered.
“I’ll behave for the rest of the night,” he promised. “I swear.”
My eyes narrowed.
“You’re lucky I like pineapple on my pizza.”
A few hours later, we’d successfully devoured twelve pieces of pizza and seven episodes ofShark Tank.
The adrenaline and anxiousness from the day eventually wore off. The pizza definitely helped me feel more normal again.
He was true to his word and simply sat beside me the rest of the evening. No teasing. No remarks. He simply leaned against the cushions, one knee bent, forearm resting casually over the arm of the couch.
At some point, I stopped holding the blanket like armor and let it pool around my legs instead. And before long, my eyes started to feel extremely heavy.
The fatigue from the long day settled over my bones and swiftly dragged me under. By ten, I was fast asleep.
I stirred only slightly when I felt two arms slide beneath my knees and spine. I was lifted from the sofa, and it transported me back to when I was a kid. That feeling when you’d fall asleep in the car and your mom or dad would carry you into bed?
Something like that. And as my tired, half-asleep mind wandered back to the simple life of childhood—before everything had gotten so hard—it actually made me feel sad.
I whimpered, wishing just for a small moment I could go back in time. Before adulthood. Before things got so messed up.
“Shhhh,mi amor.Solo duerme.”
The weight of a blanket fell over my body, and my cheek met a pillow. Then I completely drifted into darkness again, foggy childhood memories the backdrop for my dreams that gradually turned into nightmares.
“Why can’t you do anything right?”
Dr. Pike’s angry growl echoed through my head. His words were laced with disgust.
The overhead light burned white spots into my vision as Istared at the patient’s open mouth. My gloves were slick with sweat, my hands shaking.
“I—I’m sorry,” I tried to say, but the words came out muddled.
He laughed bitterly.
“Sorry doesn’t make you competent, Hope.”
Then the instrument tray went flying. Instruments scattered across the floor, clattering as they hit the walls. A mirror bounced off my shoe, and the scaler nicked my arm. There was the sharp sting of pain, and I tried to step back, but my feet felt like they were stuck in quicksand.
Dr. Pike leaned in, his lip pulling back from his teeth in a sneer—like a predator about to strike. “You’re a disappointment,” he said cruelly. “You don’t have what it takes. You never did.”
I felt my chest ache at the words, and fear along with shame nearly consumed me. Dr. Pike started toward me again, and I cowered away, but before he could reach me, I heard someone calling my name.
“Hope, wake up.”
I jolted awake with a gasp, my whole body jerking as I was ripped from the dream. The sweat part was real. My skin was slick, and my heart was hammering so loudly I could hear it thundering in my ears.
“Hey, shhhh,” Jay said softly. “You’re okay.”
I frantically searched the darkness, trying to anchor myself to where I was. Then it all came back.
The hotel. Seeing Dr. Pike. Sharing a room with Jay.
