“I’m serious.”He leans against the counter now.“What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on.I’m fine.”
His eyebrow lifts, and I know he doesn’t buy it, but I don’t want to admit what I’ve been trying not to think about.
I should be thrilled.This is the job I wanted.The job I fought for.
But ever since she left, it’s like some part of it feels off.She helped me cross the line and get the job because she was with me and made me better at it.And now she’s gone.
I try to shake it by throwing myself into work, because that’s the only thing that makes sense right now.Rounds, admin, policy reviews, mentorships.It fills the hours.
But home is harder.
The silence hits differently when you know what it used to sound like when I had her over.Her scent on my pillow.Her clothes across my floor.Her curled up beside me in bed.The creamer reminds me of the time she kept stealing when she thought I wasn’t looking.
I’ve thought about texting her plenty of times.
Even drafted messages just to delete them.
How’s it going?
Hope New York’s everything you wanted.
Miss you.
But what’s the point?
She hasn’t reached out either.And maybe that’s my answer right there.Her silence means she’s already moved on.Found what she was looking for in New York.And if she has...I won’t stop her.
I couldn’t.
She deserves this.That dream job.The life she planned long before I ever stepped into it.
I wouldn’t take that from her.Not even if it means I’m left behind.
It’s just… hard.I got everything I wanted, and it feels hollow without her.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way about anyone.Not just attraction; it’s deeper than that.A kind of connection that creeps in slowly, until it’s under your skin and you can’t remember when it started.And now it’s just… gone.
I finish my notes after talking to Dr.Pierce about a patient, which means I’ve finished work for the night.Maybe a drink will help, anything to shake the heaviness.I need to get out of here, but not go home, where I’ll be alone with my thoughts.I want people, noise,anything.
Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I text Nate.
Me:Pulse Point Tavern?I need a drink.
Nate:Fuck yeah.Be there in 30.
By the time I arrive, the bar’s packed.A game blares on the big screen, and the crowd roars every time the ball moves; it’s the perfect distraction.
I slide onto the stool next to him.He orders a beer, and I follow suit.
“How was your week?”His eyes flick between me and the screen.
“Same old.Meetings, deadlines.You?”
He grins.“Survived.Got some interesting news, though.”
I raise an eyebrow.“Oh yeah?What’s that?”
