Page 27 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
My brain, however, wasn’t soothed by the familiar rhythms that usually grounded me each morning.
Because no matter how many times I told myself I’d done the responsible thing last night by raising legitimate concerns,suggesting ways to prevent potential risk, and making sure the animals would be protected—I couldn’t shake the image of Delaney standing in a room full of people, chin lifted, looking at me like she was trying not to break in half.
And worse?
I had been part of breaking her.
My first patient wasn’t due to arrive until eight. I liked a buffer. A calm start. Fifteen minutes to breathe before the appointments stacked up and some inevitable emergency wedged itself into my meticulously planned schedule. There was comfort in preparing for the chaos, like having exam rooms ready, my instruments laid out, and my mind settled.
The goat chose that exact moment to let out a bleat that sounded like a tiny, defective yet furious car alarm.
“Good morning to you too,” I muttered to him, setting my keys on the counter of the back room where I’d kept him overnight.
The demon himself was currently contained in a large metal crate that normally housed overenthusiastic golden retrievers post-surgery. I’d lined the bottom with towels and hay, which was now mostly destroyed. He’d shredded one towel into confetti and kicked the other into the corner like it had personally insulted him.
His shaggy brown coat was matted in places, especially around his haunches, and he still smelled like wet hay and pure spite. I’d tried to wash him yesterday, but he made it clear he’d rather die than submit to soap and water.
The feeling had been mutual as I too would rather die than subject him to soap and water.
Jane walked in a minute later, carrying two steaming cups of coffee and wearing an expression that said she’d wait until I was ready to talk but was absolutely going to make sure it happened.
She handed me a mug, and then her gaze landed on the crate.
“Awww,” she said, delighted. “You kept him.”
“I did notkeephim,” I corrected, wrapping both hands around the warm ceramic like it might anchor me. “I’m temporarily housing him until Theo can take him to the shelter.”
The goat stared at me through the bars with what I could only describe as smug judgment, like he could smell the lie from three feet away.
Jane crouched beside the crate, talking in that soft baby voice that animals seemed to love. “Hello, handsome boy.”
He pressed his tiny wet nose to the bars and bleated sweetly, like he hadn’t spent yesterday morning headbutting my knee into a different zip code.
Traitor.
“Don’t fall for it,” I warned. “He’s a menace.”
Jane looked up at me, eyes bright with mischief. “He sounds like the perfect project for you. Maybe you can get him into shape before animal yoga starts.”
I dragged a hand down my face, the stubble rasping against my palm. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jane straightened, sipping her coffee with exaggerated innocence. She thought she was subtle. She wasn’t. I could see the big grin she tried to hide behind her mug. She might be only a few years older than me, but I swear she tried to interfere in my life as much as my younger sister, Grace did. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, really.” I paced two steps away—all the room would allow— and chugged half my coffee in one burning gulp.
“Then maybe you can tell me why you look like you fought a war in your sleep and lost?”
“I don’t … I’m not …” I glanced down. She had a point. I was usually impeccably dressed—crisp button-down, pressed slacks, everything in its place. This morning, I’d thrown on the first clean shirt I’d grabbed and barely remembered to brush my teeth.
“So was it the yoga part or the working with Delaney part that’s bothering you the most?” She’d overheard enough of my bitter mumblings about Delaney now owning the shop across the street for the past three months to know there was history between us.
Fury sparked hot in my belly. “I can’t believe Glamma did this!”
I turned and paced two more steps. The room suddenly felt like the size of a shoebox.
Jane leaned against the wall, quietly sipping her coffee, like she had all day to watch me unravel.
“She knows Delaney and I can’t stand each other,” I said, my voice rising. “Why would she ever think this is a good idea?”
