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Her words were like a cold bucket of water. “What?” He frowned.
“You like work because you know what you’re doing. Things go wrong, sure, but you’ve learned to live with that. But relationships scare you to death because you can’t control them. Because you’re afraid you’re gonna mess them up, so you avoid them all together. But the stupid thing is, it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy. So you retreat because that’s the only thing you know.”
Rich blinked at her. Her words felt like a rebuke, and they hurt more than he knew she intended. “When did you learn so much about relationships?” he asked, trying to ignore the tightening in his chest.
“I’ve had boyfriends.” Belle shrugged. “I know how these things work. You don’t need to worry about me.”
He exhaled heavily. “You’ll always be my little sister. I can’t help the protective older brother thing.” He’d been doing it for too long to shuck it off now.
“Maybe you could turn it on yourself a little. Give yourself a break.” Belle smiled softly. “Bring Meghan to the show. Do what you need to, just make it work.”
“I’ll ask her.”
“Good. Now let’s go grab a coffee. All this heart to heart stuff is making me thirsty.”
Sliding his sunglasses over his dark hair, Rich walked into the lobby and called the elevator, his body slumping as he waited for it to come.
He and Belle had gone to the Déjà Brew coffee shop on the boardwalk, then taken a walk along the long concrete path, stopping to look at the displays in the surf shop and the gift shop beyond it. When they passed Meghan’s ice cream shop, they’d stopped to look in but there was no sign of her. Of course Belle had asked one of the assistants where she was, and they’d been told that she was at Isla’s school for a play.
And he’d felt weird, because he should have known that stuff and he didn’t. Maybe if he’d spent less time asking her what she was wearing and more time asking about her life she would have told him about Isla’s play.
What it was, who she was playing in it. Whether she was excited or nervous.
But she hadn’t. And now he felt like an asshole.
The elevator arrived and he stepped in, leaning his head back on the wall. His reflection stared back at him from the mirrored wall opposite, judging him for not being a good friend. Or whatever the heck he was supposed to be to her.
Friends knew stuff about each other. They wished each other luck. They cared enough to ask if everything was okay.
He was a shitty friend, he knew that. Sure, his work was a good excuse. It was almost impossible to be present for people when he wasn’t sure what shift he’d be working. It was easy to let his friends down when they knew he was doing it for a good reason.
But he also wore his job as a shield. It stopped him from getting too involved. Gave him an excuse to be a fuck up at the moments he needed it most.
And it stopped him from getting hurt.
That was the truth of it. His dedication to his career wasn’t completely altruistic. Yes, it was about saving lives, but it was also about saving his own. Because when he dedicated himself to solving other people’s problems, he could ignore the ones that were beating down his brain.
The elevator arrived on the tenth floor, and he walked out, looking down at the pink paper bag he was holding. Belle had helped him pick out a congratulations gift for Isla at the gift shop – a tiny silver necklace with a star and unicorn on it, along with Isla’s initial. He’d even bought a card and written that he was proud of her in it.
And now he was hesitating at leaving it at their door. Because what if it was too much? Damn, his head was all messed up right now, and it was Belle’s fault. She was making him think about things he didn’t have a right to.
Things like happiness. Friendship. Maybe something more.
The same things he’d been avoiding for years.
It was a damn necklace for a child, not an engagement ring for her mother. He shook his head at himself, sliding the paper bag beneath Meghan’s door before he could change his mind, then ran to his own damn apartment.
Friendship. That’s what it was. He could do that, the same way he did with James, and his co workers in the ER.
Yeah, but you don’t fantasize about them every night.
And his inner thoughts could shut the hell up. He turned on his stereo, loud music filling his brain.
Exercise, that’s what he’d do. And after that he’d take a nap.
“Rich?” Meghan said, wedging her phone between her shoulder and her ear.
“Yeah?” He sounded groggy. “Is everything okay?”
