Page 54 of Devoted
“Well, no. But Dr. Greene just told me that he had to leave unexpectedly. Apparently that was a while ago too. Sorry, I didn’t know or I would have told you.”
“Oh. It’s okay. I know you would have.” A wave of disappointment radiates from my chest, and then a twinge of panic when I wonder what took him away from the hospital before the end of his shift. I set the coffees down and clock in on the computer. I’m sure something must have popped up and he just got busy. At least that’s what I hope.
“Hey, are you on now?” Dr. Hill shuffles by me as I click away on the keys of the computer.
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“I’ve got a burn case that just came in and could use your assistance on.”
“Be right there.”
I quickly log out of the computer and stand, grab my stethoscope, and follow him down the hall to the action, all the while wondering why Brooks never showed up for our meeting, my worry shifting slightly to anger as time passes.
Broken bones, scrapes and bruises, high fevers, and coughs—the hours fly by as case after case comes through the doors. When I finally get a fifteen minute break, I decide to check my phone again. I reach into my pocket and instantly open up my text messages. There are a few from my sister, and one from Rachel, reminding me of Grayson’s birthday party this weekend.
But nothing from Brooks.
And like a typical woman, my mind veers to the worst place—a place of him being hurt, or a more likely reason in my mind—him blowing me off and changing his mind about us.
I think deep down I could see him getting frustrated that I haven’t slept with him yet, but then why continue to see me, talk to me, spend time with me? Did something serious actually happen, or is Brooks keeping a secret from me when I fought to convince myself that he would never do that?
“We can be honest with each other, Jess. You know you can talk to me.”
Without Piper here to calm my nerves, I take it upon myself to attempt that, although I’m failing miserably. Instead, I text him again, hoping that maybe he was just busy or something came up and now he has time to respond.
Me: Hey, hope you’re okay. I missed seeing you earlier.
The text is delivered, but I don’t have time to stare at it this time. I need to pee and shove some sort of food down my throat before I’m back on the clock.
And as I finish out the rest of my shift, my confidence in my budding relationship with Brooks dwindles just as fast as my energy.