“Right,” I say. I had known about the maternity leave, of course, but hospitals almost always need more help.
“I was going to send you a text next week with some open positions, but since I have you on the phone, I’ll tell you now.” She pauses, and slurps loudly from what I assume, based on the very little I know of her, is a mug of very hot, very bold coffee. “Got a thirteen week ICU opening in Memphis starting the week after your contract ends. Another thirteen week ED contract in Boise three weeks after this contract. Got—”
“Hey,” I cut her off. “Would you mind emailing these over to me?”
“Sure thing. Sorry about the extension. Glad you’re having a good time there, though.”
I can’t help the way my gaze drifts to Stevie. She’s hunched over the porch rail, looking out at the woods and mountains beyond.
“Yeah, me too.” My words catch on the wind whistling through the trees. “Bye, Amy.”
“Talk soon.”
She ends the call before I can respond. I drop the phone back into my pocket as Stevie turns around, her eyes flicking over my attire.
“Bit cold for a run,” she says.
I’m wearing leggings under my shorts and a hoodie over my T-shirt, but now that I’ve slowed down, the cool air is drying the sweat on my skin and making goosebumps prick up all over it.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I tell her, and she nods in understanding.
Abandoning her coffee on the porch rail, she turns fully to face me and props her hands on the wood at her back. “So we should probably talk about last night.”
I shouldn’t be surprised at her directness—Stevie doesn’t strike me as the type to beat around the bush.
“Right,” I say, and shove my hands into the pocket of my hoodie.
“I was going to kiss you.”
I blink at her. I had known, of course, but it feels different to hear her say it so bluntly. It sets fire beneath my skin.
“I wanted you to.”
It probably isn’t the right thing to say, but I can’t bullshit her.
Her head tilts to the side in confusion. “That wasn’t the idea I got.”
A breath escapes through my nose in a forceful huff, and I push a hand through my damp hair, now icy to the touch. “I’m leaving. In three weeks. I didn’t think it was a good idea.”
Her back straightens ever so slightly. “Mmm.”
The cold is turning her cheeks and the tip of her nose red. She looks windswept. Beautiful in a rugged way. Like sunrise on the top of a mountain.
“And if you weren’t leaving?” she asks, hazel eyes holding mine.
“I am.”
She nods, like she expected that this was the answer she expected, like she never expected I would stay. It pricks something in my chest. A self-inflicted wound that hasn’t quite healed.
“That was my recruiter on the phone,” I tell her, and I’m not sure if I’m telling her because I want her to know, or because I want to wipe that look off her face. The disappointed one. “I asked if I could renew my contract, stay here longer.”
Light flares behind her eyes, hope. It burns. “How long?”
I shake my head, kick at a lifted wood beam at my feet. “Doesn’t matter. They didn’t need me to stay. The woman I replaced is coming back from maternity leave.”
When I glance back up at her, she doesn’t look hurt or sad. Just resigned, like this is the outcome she knew would find her.
“Guess it’s good you didn’t let me kiss you then. Wouldn’t want to mess things up before you go, right?”
