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I made it home and managed to wait a few hours before checking my phone. As much as I wanted to engage Dean, I was humiliated he knew the truth. I couldn’t understand why he was still interested after he heard what a complete wreck I had been after our break up. Cammie had called me non-stop since yesterday and I refused her calls as well. No matter what she had to endure, she had betrayed years of friendship in mere minutes. I knew eventually I would forgive her, but I couldn’t see it happening anytime soon.
I didn’t need old drama unfolding in the hospital. This wasn’t high school, and I damn sure hadn’t been acting my age since the minute Dean made his appearance. The hospital was the one place I felt truly safe. The thing I could control the most. My career was my focus. It was the one thing that had truly been my saving grace. I poured over cases and treatments as I ignored the obvious tug in my chest and my vibrating phone. Hours after I had landed on my couch, my curiosity got the best of me. I had missed two texts.
6:00 P.M.
DEAN: I’m eating spaghetti. Do you still hate it?
5 minutes ago…
DEAN: Sweet Home Alabama is on channel 8.
My heart squeezed. He knew it was my favorite movie. I quickly scrambled to find my remote and turned it on. He knew I had always thought of him watching it. I had told him once his eyes were the exact color of one of the male leads. The ironic part was it was about two people who met when they were kids only to painfully break up and get back together years later. It was all about kismet and soul mates, a subject eerily familiar. I settled in to watch when my phone vibrated again.
DEAN: You’re watching it now, aren’t you? I’ll watch it with you.
Damn him. I regretted dumping my tequila and settled for a glass of wine. Two hours later, I got a text.
DEAN: Ironic, isn’t it? Goodnight, Dally.
7:00 A.M.
DEAN: I wish I could wake you up the way I did last week, buried inside you with my thumb in your mouth.
I groaned as my sex clenched. That had been the hottest morning sex I had ever had. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining him on top of me until the world shook with the strongest orgasm I’d had in years. I begged him to take me again right after, and he did. Twice.
As of today, my vagina was no longer speaking to me.
Work, Dallas.
I walked up to Beatrice cautiously and got a smile.
“Don’t bother, baby. I knew that wasn’t you talking.” She picked up the phone, ignoring my attempt to apologize. I waited for her to get off the line, but I could tell she was giving me the brush off. I felt terrible.
Just become a nun. You can be a doctor nun. A nun doctor. You will be married to the Lord, have renewed virginity, and your precious guilt. A catholic nun doctor…a new dream.
“Dr. Whitaker, a moment.” I looked to see Dr. Nichols addressing me. I grabbed my tablet and followed him quickly.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this at the beginning of your shift, but Mrs. Tanner passed last night.”
“What?” I took a step back. “Why wasn’t I paged?”
Ted Nichols was head of oncology. He was one of the best doctors in the state of Texas. I admired him from afar and was excited about working with him. Upon my arrival, he had taken an interest in my training that thrilled me to no end.
“I was here,” he said smugly.
I was thrilled about working with him, until that very moment.
“That was my patient. I wasn’t aware you had taken the case.” Confrontation was clear in my tone.
“It was late and there was nothing you could have done,” he remarked, finishing the conversation then headed for the door.
“Excuse me,” I said defiantly. “I was her doctor. She was my patient. I’m thankful for your consideration in regards to my R & R, but I insist on being contacted when the condition of one of my patients worsens and needs to be addressed.”
“Lighten up, Dallas. It’s going to happen a lot.”
“Not with me,” I said as I took a step forward.
“Mighty aggressive this morning, Whitaker, but you are going to need that R & R.” He left the room without another word as I fumed in the corner. I made my rounds to both day and night shift nurses, letting them know exactly how I felt about being informed. If my patients so much as sneezed and shit, I wanted to know.
