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“Yeah,” is all I can say.
Emmett.My Emmett. No question his sister told him she saw me, where I work. But I didn’t think I’d hear from him. And I didn’t think he’d say this.
“Well . . . I think it’s safe to say he wants a second chance.”
Right. Except I don’t do second chances. I’ve spent the better part of the last few years working to undo every memory I have of him, but it’s impossible. I would have thought that with time, I’d forget every little nuance, every conversation we had, that memories would eventually fade and one day I’d hear his name and have to pause and think about what he looked like, but something like this comes up and I’m reminded that time has done nothing to heal me.
“Cool. Well, are you free? I need to get that cath placed.” I shove his card into my pocket, take one more look at the stunning bouquet of purple flowers, my favorite color, and turn my back to the nurse’s station.
“Jenna,” Meg calls after me, her footsteps quickly catching up with mine.
I shove open the door to the supply closet, eyes scanning the shelves for the catheter kit.
“Girl, don’t you dare make me run after you again.” Meg comes to stand in front of me, effectively blocking the shelves with her body. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“Nope,” I tell her, popping theP. “Three years ago, I may have been curious, but curiosity was blanketed by being pissed off. Really pissed off.”
“I remember,” she says softly, moving to the side to pull out a catheter kit. “I remember you left the unit that day and came back a different person. You lost your spice, and I had to bust my ass to get it back for you.”
I hadn’t known Meg more than a few weeks when my world came crashing down. Even still, she was there for me. She let me wallow in self-pity for a few days before telling me to buck up and introducing me to her world. We saw each other every single day until I left for another assignment.
“Sixteen or Eighteen French?” She asks.
“Sixteen.”
She hands me a kit, and I pull it to my chest, wrapping my arms around it like it’s my security blanket. “Would you do it? Would you call him and hear what he has to say?”
She shrugs, leaning back against the shelving with her arms crossed. “I don’t know. I’m more of a man-eater type, you know that.”
I chuckle, wondering why I’m asking advice from someone who’s longest relationship spanned a month.
“But,” she continues, expression becoming serious, “the way you talked about him, how happy you were to have him in your life—I’ve never felt that, or anything close to that, with anyone. I think he’s an asshole for what he did, but if you guys had what it seems like you had, maybe it’s worth hearing him out.”
“Meg,” I trail off, wanting to know why someone as hilarious and stunning and brilliant as her turned out to be a man-eater and refuses to bat an eye in the direction of every quality man that comes her way.
Within a flash, the softer side of her is gone, and she gives an eye roll so exaggerated it’s annoying. “Come on, Curly Sue.” She tugs the catheter kit out of my arms. “Quit being sappy and tell me whose legs I’m holding open.”
Chapter Nine
Four Years Earlier
“A
toast, to surviving the abuse that is nursing school!”
“Cheers!” I squeal, reaching my shot glass out and meeting the others, letting them all bang together with a clack as half of the sticky mixture sloshes over the back of my hand.
“We did it!” Genevieve shouts, wrapping her skinny arm around my neck and pulling me to her to lay a loud and drunk kiss on my cheek. “We freaking did it, Jenna! We’re nurses!”
Almost nurses, anyways. But I did it. I set my mind to something and completed nursing school. The only thing that stands in the way of me and the greatest job I could ever have is the state licensing exam. The next three weeks will be spent at the library, living off caffeine and granola bars as I try to reread every single set of notes I have taken over these last four years. I decided on extra torture during school by taking a job at a local hospital as a nurse intern while in school. It meant less sleep and minimal free time to hang out with the few friends I made, but with Emmett always on the road and no family to keep in touch with, it didn’t feel like a sacrifice.
That internship became my bread and butter, the best experience I could find that would make the transition to an RN that much smoother, because once I get my nursing license in my sweaty little palms, I leave for my first gig as a travel nurse. The bright lights of Seattle are the next beacon calling me home.
The ceremony today was monumental for my nursing friends. Their family members came, gave hugs and presents and participated in the pinning ceremony while I stood alone. I hadn’t invited anyone besides Emmett and my dad, and while I completely understand why Emmett couldn’t make it, I kind of thought my dad would show. However, the card I received in the mail a few days ago told me that wasn’t going to happen.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, smiling when I see who texted me.
Emmett: I keep thinking of you and your graduation and how fucking proud I am of you.
