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One night, I was at Sweet Nell’s alone. Jack was working and Dylan wasn’t. It was me and one, two, three, four,fivebeers, and I was doing my damned best to stay positive. I had overheard a conversation between Adrian and Melissa, one where she had talked about moving some of her stuff over to his, and it had prompted an hour long crying session in a utility closet. That time, though, no one had come to my rescue, and I had felt more alone than ever. I still hadn’t told Jack what was wrong, but I knew he suspected that I was pining after someone—after all, why would I be so determined to find a person to date? He had pushed the matter but knew when to give it up. I felt like giving up. Why should I suffer in silence?
I figured the alcohol was probably going to my head, but I didn’t care. All I thought it was doing was making me braver. I downed the last of my beer and headed out, trying to walk without stumbling. I wandered right past my building, heading to the one place I knew I would find solace. Or at least, I thought I would find solace there.
* * *
The ER wasn’t horribly busy, so I marched in and asked for Adrian at the desk.
I had seen George earlier, and he’d let slip that he’d be joining Adrian in the ER to pick up some of the slack while the trauma team caught up on administrative tasks. There was always more paperwork.
Adrian, of course, didn’t immediately come to me. He was with a patient, and then another one, and finally, by the time I saw him, I figured out what I wanted to say.
“Ade,” I gasped when he came to get me by the nurses’ station.
“Not here, Dr. Christophers,” he said with a warning in his voice.
I shrugged and followed him. If he wanted to be like that, then so be it. He led me to an on-call room—the same one where I’d seen the pain in his eyes. What a stupid misunderstanding.
“I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings,” I murmured drunkenly.
I put my palms against his chest and felt his heart beating under my hand.
“Why are you here, Stevie?” he asked.
He sounded exasperated, and for a moment, I was worried. Did he just see me as that stupid child that he’d had a fling with?
“You’ve moved on,” I accused him.
He rolled his eyes and removed my hands from his chest, stepping away from me.
“What did you expect me to do?” he asked with exasperation in his voice.
“I don’t know.”
“You chose not to pursue a relationship with me and I’m thirty-four. I can’t wait around for you to change your mind every other second we’re together.”
He was right; I knew he was right, and it was the same advice I’d given Jack. But somehow, with inebriation clouding my judgement, I thought the whole thing was completely unfair.
“You moved on toofast,” I amended.
“I didn’t have a choice,” he answered. “My father set Melissa and I up, and I really didn’t expect to like her as much as I do.”
There was a little grin on his face when he spoke about her, and it was like a needle to my heart.
“I love you,” I blurted.
In my head, it had been more sane, a dramatic declaration of love that would be so beautiful and moving that Adrian would have no choice but to sweep me off my feet and carry me bridal style into the horizon.
Instead, it was said with the same stubborn attitude I said everything, and I knew the moment I saw his face fall that once again, I had messed everything up—possibly beyond repair.
“No,” he said simply, but his voice grew, “you don’t get to say that, not now, not after all this time. No. I’m with Melissa, Stevie, Jesus Christ! You can’t just—what the fuck?!”
I swallowed the tears that threatened to roll out of my eyes, and he was just staring at me.
“You don’t love me,” I stated.
“It’s not that—you never gave me the chance! What the fuck—why the fuck did you have to come here and say that? Things weregood! We were functioning asfriends, Stevie, likeyouwanted! I never asked for that—you did!”
He was pacing and tapping his fingers on his pant leg like I’d learned meant he was stressed.
