And before I can, she comes around the table, already slipping back into that steady, capable version of herself. The one who knows exactly where she needs to be and how fast she needs to get there.
“C’mon,” she says, gentler, like she’s making up for cutting this short. “Let’s get you back.”
One minute, she’s sitting across from me, talking about how she feels like she’s faking it.
The next, she’s the one people call when it matters.
She stands from the table and takes the empty bag from me, dumping it in the garbage. She’s quiet as she rushes me through the hall, back toward the elevator.
Focused.
I recognize it. I get the same way on a deployment.
When we’re sealed inside, just the two of us again, she clears her throat. Looking over my shoulder, the energy from our exchange and the call thrum.
“Try to be nice to case management. They hold the key to your freedom,” she finally says as we pass the second floor.
“Afraid they’re going to keep me here longer and you’re going to be stuck eating all your lunches with me.”
“You were a pleasure and a delight. The best lunch companion I’ve had all week.”
“Now who’s the liar?” I ask.
“You’d think so, but you’ve got an advantage on Kyle. He’s in a coma. Not exactly a great conversationalist.”
Just like that, she rights everything between us. An unexpected snort ends in a coughing fit as the elevator stops at three.
“Jesus. Get it together—it was a joke. Becky’s going to think this trip was too much, and we are both going to get yelled at. Also, there’s no Kyle. In the last week, I’ve eaten lunch in a supply closet and in my car, just for some peace and quiet.”
“That was dark, even for me,” I say.
“Really?” She sighs. “Time for my week to be over if I’ve crossed into tasteless jokes.”
“Are you off tomorrow?”
I can see her nodding in the reflection of the metal wall, but another yawn steals the confirmation.
“You should use your day off to catch up on sleep.”
“From the guy who’s never once rested properly? Bold of you.”
“I’m not the example, I’m the problem,” I say.
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
“No, you won’t,” I say.
She crinkles her nose, leaning over me and pressing the button to hold the doors as we exit. “You’re probably right.”
“Cleo’s waiting,” Becky chides as we approach.
“That’s my fault. I talked her ear off,” I deflect.
Becky barks out a laugh. “In that case, I’ll allow it.” The older nurse—clearly running this floor—stands and takes the wheelchair. “I’ve got him from here.”
Aspen doesn’t move right away. I shift in my chair, finding her looking down at me like she’s unsure how to part ways.
“See you around, Aspen.”
