Page 80 of One Reckless Night

31

JARED

Iwoke to sunlight streaming through the window. That was my cue to get my ass out of bed. It was Saturday, and for once, I didn’t have to answer to anyone but myself. The alarm clock read seven-thirty, which meant I’d already slept longer than I had in weeks.

I threw the blankets off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I stretched. My body creaked like an old machine in need of oil. My schedule had been relentless. I needed to work out the kinks.

The ocean was calling me. A run on the beach sounded like exactly what I needed. I had not been able to go for a run in a couple weeks, between my workload and the weather.

I pulled on a pair of shorts and a faded NYU T-shirt, then grabbed my running shoes. In ten minutes, I was out the door. The salt air hit me immediately, a welcome slap to the face. I jogged down the steps and onto the sand, feeling it give way beneath my feet with each stride.

The morning was perfect: bright sky, waves lapping at the shore, only a few other early risers scattered about. This was the life I’d wanted to build, right here by the ocean where everything felt right.

It was sunny, but I could feel a heaviness in the air. I knew that feeling—it typically meant a storm was coming. I looked out toward the horizon and saw a few clouds, but nothing too serious.

I let my mind drift, thinking about nothing and everything. The sand was soft underfoot, each step sinking slightly before pushing me forward. My legs were burning now, but it was a good burn, the kind that made me feel alive. And helped me forget about everything. It was meditation in the best way.

I focused on the sounds. My feet slapping against the sand. The birds cawing. The waves sizzling.

I pushed harder, feeling my chest tighten with exertion and the salt air filling my lungs. This was what I loved—being out here with nothing but my own breath and heart pounding in my ears. With so much swirling around at work lately, it felt like a relief to finally think of nothing. I knew I overdid it sometimes. I pushed myself too hard. People were always telling me I was going to burn myself out. I didn’t believe them, but maybe the occasional breather was necessary. I could only keep going at this pace for so long.

But I wasn’t breaking yet. I had a few more years in me at least and so many more lives to save.

Sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging them as I kept running. The burn in my muscles spread from legs to arms to chest.

After what felt like miles, I finally slowed, dropping into an easy jog. I caught my breath and let my pulse drop to my usual.

As I rounded the corner near the residential area of the campus, I spotted Amelia and Clair walking back from town. They were deep in conversation, their heads close together. I felt a pinch of jealousy that I couldn’t quite explain. I wanted to be that close to her. I almost was. But then I had pull back.

I slowed to a stop, watching them from a distance. Amelia looked different. Tired, maybe, but there was something else. Something I couldn’t put my finger on. I wanted to go to her, to ask her how she was doing, to tell her… what? That I was sorry? That I missed her? That I didn’t know how to fix this mess between us?

But I didn’t. Instead, I turned and jogged back to my house. Since Amelia had returned, I’d been torn between talking to her and avoiding her like the plague. Every time I saw her, my chest got that familiar ache. Like actual heart pain.

When I got home, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and turned on the TV. The news was on, and the anchor was talking about a hurricane that was going to make landfall in a few days. I sighed and turned up the volume. It was going to be a mess. I thought maybe we had managed to dodge the worst of the season but, of course, there was always one more storm that had to sneak in before the storm season was over.

There would be plenty of fallout. I settled down on the couch with my laptop, trying to focus on reviewing files for upcoming surgeries. Some would need to be postponed if possible. I couldn’t risk people coming to the campus in the middle of a hurricane. And the fewer people I had in the hospital, the better. It was a risk I didn’t like to take. We had generators and supplies, but it was easier if we could avoid putting already medically fragile people in harm’s way.

Unfortunately, my mind kept drifting back to Amelia. To the way she’d looked at me when she’d come to my office, to the way she’d walked away. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out what she thought she saw. Gemma made it pretty easy to figure out.

I picked a couple of cases to postpone and sent the names to my assistant to reach out to the patients.

I had barely sent the email when there was a knock on the door. For a moment, my heart leapt. I had this wild fantasy it would be Amelia standing there.

But it wasn’t her. It was Gemma.

My stomach dropped. Gemma had been trying to find an in with me for the past two months, and I was getting tired of it. She was holding a bottle of my favorite scotch, waving it around like a peace offering.

“I thought you could use a drink,” she said. “And I’ll finish that massage.”

“Could you fuck off? I’m busy, Gemma.” I was done sugarcoating my feelings around her.

She pouted, her expression hurt. “Come on, Jared. It’s just a drink. We used to do this all the time.”

I shook my head, my jaw clenched. “As if that means anything. That was a long time ago. Before you spread your legs for any guy that smiled at you.”

“You’re all sweaty,” she said, continuing to ignore what I was saying. “You run hard when you’ve got something on your mind. Let me help you work through it.”

“I don’t need you to help me do anything,” I snapped. “I need you to leave me alone. You don’t know me.”