Page 82 of Asystole

Romella just wags her eyebrows at him while I lean down and whisper, “I told you. She’s magic.” But then I remember Romella had said he’s already pulled this IV out a couple of times, so I explain why it needs to stay in.

When I stand to leave, I give Jamal a fist bump and tell him to let me know if he hears about those pjs being made in adult sizes. He snorts and shakes his head, making me smile.

As I’m rewashing my hands at the sink, Romella knocks her hip into mine.

“Can I ask you something?”

I nod, already knowing what she’s going to ask me.

“Why are you doing trauma surgery when you are so clearly a perfect fit for pediatrics? Your heart is on this floor, Dr. Chase. I can see it in you.”

I can’t tell her the embarrassing truth, so without making eye contact, I feed her the well-rehearsed lie.

“Because then they would go from being kids to being my job, and I would have to look at them differently.”

“I don’t think that’s true at all. It’s the way you look at them that would make you the best doctor for them.”

If I was trying to stall, I was very successful. It’s one a.m. when I finally enter the condo. A hint of vanilla lingers in the air, and it’s odd to me that I don’t like the way it covers up the normal smells of this place.

My body is ready to sleep like the dead, but my mind is racing, replaying Romella’s words over and over.

“Chase?” Logan whispers from the living room where he’s sitting on the couch in joggers and nothing else.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I tell him, dropping my shit quietly onto the barstool like usual.

“You didn’t. I’m still on nights, remember? You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

In reality, I can’t remember the last time I ingested calories, and my stomach grumbles loudly as a reminder.

Logan looks at me as he stands.

“Why don’t you go grab a shower, and I’ll heat up some dinner for you.”

I want to hug him. I want to tell him about Marcy’s good news and about my night with Jamal. I’m hungry for more than just food, but Logan and I just got back to normal. He can’t fulfill my need for physical touch right now, and that kills me.

Your girlfriend is in your room, dummy, I think to myself. Yet somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better.

“Hey, you okay?” Logan asks.

“Yeah,” I lie. “Yeah, just tired and hungry and processing my day.”

“Go wash up. Dinner will be ready in five.”

I hold my breath as I enter my room, careful not to wake Kendra. She’s on her side, facing me, the features I know so well slack and relaxed. She’s wearing one of my shirts, and her blonde hair is fanned out behind her.

As I make my way to my dresser to grab clean boxers and a pair of sweats, I trip over something in the middle of the floor.

“Shit!” I yell in a whisper, pissed when I realize the metal handle of Kendra’s rolling suitcase is fully extended across my path.

“Chase?” a sleepy voice says.

Fucking great.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m just going to grab a quick shower, and then I’ll come to bed,” I tell her, hoping that’s enough to satisfy her in this twilight stage, but no luck.

“I’ve waited all day to see you. I could shower with you?” she says, sitting up.