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After searching the area where she was previously staying, I decide even if I can't find her RV, maybe she went back to the hospital. There's still some time before we close up. I race over to the hospital and rush in, looking for her. Thankfully, there are no patients in the waiting room. I'm sweating and winded when I run in.
Ardi is at the desk typing something into one of the computers. I know she heard me come in but she won't turn to look at me.
"Ardi." I call for her, but she doesn't respond. I'm at the very edge of what I can take. "Nurse Thomas!" I yell, and she jumps before she turns around in her chair to look at me. She's shooting daggers with her eyes. She's angry, but I can't deal with her right now. Not when it feels like my entire world is collapsing in on itself.
"Where is Nyla?" I ask clearly.
Ardi lifts her chin and speaks, "Nurse Thimble put in her paperwork a few hours ago to opt out of the rest of her contract due to insurmountable differences. She's no longer working here."
No. This is impossible. She wouldn't. She wouldn't but as I look around and see the teary-eyed faces of the rest of the nurses on staff I realize that she has.
I straighten my back and look down at Ardi, "Fine. Get to work finding a replacement for her. I don't want our staff shorthanded." I say giving an order. I turn on my heel and walk with a purpose toward my office.
I can't let this affect me. I take in a deep breath and another.
I walk over to my desk and lean against the sturdy wood, trying to ground myself.
"Motherfucker!" I roar and grab everything on my desk, swiping it onto the floor.
After everything we've been through, she left me, just like that. I loosen my tie and unbutton my shirt. It feels like I'm trapped in here. I'm a prisoner.
She's really gone, and it feels like she took a piece of my soul with her.
* * *
A week has passed, and I've called her and left messages. I'm doing my best to try and track her down. I even went so far as to reaching out to Ivan, who not so politely told me to fuck off.
She's gone, and she doesn't want to be found.
I've been doing my best not to let this change the atmosphere of the hospital, but it's impossible. Nyla isn't someone people just forget. She's missed.
I'm good at hiding what I'm feeling, but I don't even pretend anymore. I'm a wreck. I haven't shaven. My clothes are wrinkled. I feel like I'm at a stand still, but the world just keeps on turning.
My mother called me this afternoon to tell me to come over and pick up some paperwork that was left there for me. Once I finish at work, I wind up driving over there in a haze. I could get around this town with my eyes closed, and that's how it feels I've been moving since Nyla left.
I know being love sick is all an emotional state, but this should definitely be a medical condition.
I walk into the large house and go right into the main room, where my mother and father are waiting for me. My father in his chair like always, one leg crossed over the other, drinking his whiskey. My mother is flitting around the room arranging some flowers.
"Mom, what paperwork did you have for me? I really want to get home and go to sleep." I say, and she stops what she's doing to look at me.
"Oh dear, you look like hell. Are you coming down with something?" She asks, showing a bit of concern.
"No, I'm okay." I say, dropping into a chair.
"Well then what's wrong with you?" She puts her hand on her hips ready for my explanation.
"I'm just going through a bit of a rough patch, Nyla, the woman you met, she left quite suddenly a few days ago." I tell her, and I swear I see my mother's cheeks hitch up in a smile.
"Oh well, that's what we always knew she would do, right? She was only here temporarily. It's for the best, Nicky." She says and comes over to pat my hand, "besides, you have much bigger things to think about right now." She walks over to the other side of the room and grabs a folder of papers and hands it to me. I pull my chair closer to the large marble table and open it up.
I have to blink a few times to get my eyes to adjust because I can't see what I think I'm seeing.
"Mom, what the hell is this?"
"It's an application. You have to fill them out before we can officially get you nominated."
"For what?" I ask, my voice going up an octave.
