Page 33 of Five Stolen Rings
“Finally getting your head on straight, then?” I say. The words come out more harshly than I intend, but I don’t apologize or try to soften the blow.
“Maybe,” she says, and she sighs. “I’m tired.”
“Living a lie will do that to you.”
“I’m not living a lie,” she says, her cheeks turning a deeper pink as she looks at me. “People change, Jack. I’m allowed to be a different person than I was.”
“Sure you are,” I say with a nod. “If it’s how you really feel. But it’s not. You don’t even like most of the idiots youhang out with these days. The girls are dumb and the guys are gorillas?—”
“They’re not gorillas?—”
“You deserve better,” I snap, standing up. “Who you really are deserves better than what you’re settling for.” I grab my backpack and then return to the porch steps, clearing them all with one leap and heading to the front door. I sneak a peek over my shoulder as I grasp the door handle, only to see her standing up, running an affectionate hand over Chutney’s little head but looking miserable nonetheless.
I don’t speak, even when tears well in her eyes and slip down her cheeks.
She deserves better.
But then again, so do I.
JACK
When I get to work the next morning, I notice some changes.
Specifically, I notice that the nurses at the nurses’ station stop talking every time I approach, sharing quick looks and trying not to giggle. I can guess what that’s all about, but it’s only when I overhear a snippet of conversation that my suspicions are confirmed.
“—said he brought her in himself, and he smiled at her, like an actual grin?—”
“What would that even look like?”
“Probably scary?—”
“Cut it out,” I finally bark at the two worst offenders, Belinda and Prue. They’re an especially giggly pair, decent at their jobs but prone to unnecessary chatter. Then I turn to Madge, the head nurse and my favorite—late fifties, no nonsense, efficient and practiced—and say, “Have a word with everyone about gossiping, please. It’s unprofessional and irritating.”
Madge gives me a sharp nod, and I storm away again.
I can grudgingly admit I understand why people are talking; I behaved very differently with Stella than I normally do. I’ve cultivated a reputation here as an efficient, competent, no-nonsense doctor—a lot like Madge, in fact—and I must have been a little too playful last night.
It’s that blasted Stella Effect again.
I make sure to scowl a bit extra in order to counteract my behavior from yesterday, and by the end of my shift, everything is back in order—no gossiping or trading stories while on duty, in other words, which is how workshouldbe. There are a million moving parts of any emergency department, and even more in one that runs smoothly and successfully. There’s no place or time for gossip or idle chit chat; not when we have to be on and ready for anything at any given moment.
By the time my shift is over, I’m tired and residually grumpy. I’m tempted to ignore the text I have waiting for me from Stella—Let me know when we can go grab my car, or let me know if I you can’t make it and I can ride share over instead—because a large part of me wants to avoid her, just until I can get my head on straight. But the other part of me—the traitorous part, and apparently the decision-making part—calls her anyway.
“Hi,” she says when she answers. “Long day?”
“Yes,” I say, and I sound tired even to myself. “I’ll swing by and pick you up to go get your car. Good?”
“Yeah, that works,” she says. “Let me know when you’re here?”
“What—you don’t want me to come ring your parents’ doorbell?” I say, an involuntary smirk curling my lips. “I’m sure they’d love to see me.”
“And then they would ask a million questions, and you would be there all night, andthenthey would want to know every little detail of our current relationship,” she says. “So don’t you dare.”
“Maybe I want to chat with them for hours,” I say. “Did you ever think of that?”
“Look, my parents are great.”
“They are,” I say with a slow nod.
