Page 16 of One Night, Two Holidays
But for now, I stay right here, kissing her warm skin, savoring every taste, every sound she makes, as if there’s nothing beyond this moment.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me for another night,” I murmur. “As long as you’re okay with that?”
Her voice is a whisper, barely audible: “I think I can probably make the best of it.”
CHAPTER 12
December 25, 1:37 pm
NESSA
Jack is staying another night! Of course, I’m sorry he can’t get home to his family, but I’m thrilled he’ll be staying here with me.
Also:damnis he a good kisser. I don’t know if it was the buildup of all that tension or the fact that I initiated it, or because it was Jack I was kissing—but he was right, it was at least four times better than any other kiss I’ve ever had.
We’re still in the kitchen, eating peanut butter and brown sugar sandwiches (my dad’s specialty that I loved as a kid) while we try to figure out how we’re going to make latkes with the ingredients he foraged from his freezer.
“Do you really eat these?” I ask, holding up one of the Hungry Man frozen dinners. The Salisbury steak and green beans won’t be of use, but the side of “homestyle” mashed potatoes will be clutch.
He nods. “Sometimes I’m barely home long enough to eat andshower, then crash for a few hours before waking up and heading back to the hospital. They do the trick.”
“That’s sad.”
He shrugs, grimacing. “That’s my life right now. Sad.”
Something about his expression tugs at me. It reminds me of the way he looked when he first walked into my place last night—defeated. I’d assumed it was just because he missed his flight, but maybe there’s more to it.
“Really?” I say, concerned. “You’re not enjoying being a resident?”
He huffs, shaking his head. “It’s not meant to beenjoyable.It’s meant to teach you a lot of information and give you a ton of experience, crammed into a few brutal years, all while being pushed to your limit so you’re prepared for whatever happens and can be the best doctor possible.”
His voice sounds hollow, like he’s reciting a script, one he’s heard—or told himself—too many times.
“But hopefully it’ll be worth it?” I offer, not knowing what else to say.
He hesitates, his shoulders sagging. “I mean, I knew it would be hard, but it’s… more than I expected. Some days, I wonder if I’m cut out for it.”
The confession hangs between us, honest and raw. He runs a hand through his hair, avoiding my gaze. “Like yesterday, a teenage girl came in with meningitis and died three hours later—we ran the code, did chest compressions, the whole thing. Her mom and grandmother were there watching it all happen and...” He shakes his head, his eyes going glassy, like he’s back in that hospital room.
“And last week,” he goes on, “I had the cutest little four-year-old with leukemia. Doing well with treatment, but then he catches pneumonia and he’s just…gone. And his parents?—”
Jack’s voice catches. He blinks hard and clears his throat. “It’sstarting to feel like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to help them, it doesn’t matter.”
His eyes meet mine, his expression guarded, like he’s waiting for judgment. I want to reach out, take his hand, somehow help him see what I can see so clearly: that he cares deeply about these patients and their families, that he would do anything for them.
“It sounds like you’re doing the best you can,” I say, knowing it probably sounds trite.
“Maybe my best isn’t good enough.”
“Jack…” I whisper, my heart aching for him. I know that feeling—the nagging worry of not being enough. I want to tell him that, but before I can, he blinks and gives me a lopsided, apologetic smile.
“Sorry. First time I’ve really said any of that out loud.” He clears his throat and turns his attention back to the frozen dinner. “Anyway, did you know that Salisbury steak was invented by Dr. James Salisbury during the Civil War to help soldiers digest their food more easily?”
I shake my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I did not. Is it even steak?”
“It is not,” Jack admits, laughing, back to the guy I’ve gotten to know in the past few hours. “But it comes with potatoes, which is the point—right?”
“Right.” But in my head, I’m already doubling my Sunday meal prep for the week, making enough for Jack so he doesn’t have to eat these frozen sodium bombs. So he has a little bit of comfort to look forward to after a long day at the hospital taking care of everyone else.
