Page 4 of As Long As You'll Have Me
“Sure,” is all I can muster up before pulling the door to his office closed behind me.
Once in the hallway, I force out a deep breath and read the business card. The name ‘Hanna Smith’ with a million letters behind it is printed across the center.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I groan to myself. Before I know it, my best friend appears by my side.
“So, what’d you do?”
I quickly stow the card in my back pocket. “Nothing.He wanted to talk to me about the next round of on-site training.”
He raises a brow at me. “You’re a moron, you know that, right?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I gruff, heading for the kitchen. It’s nearly lunch and a call could come in at any minute. Eating when we have the time is important in our line of work.
“You think I don’t know when you’re lying to me?” he scoffs. “What’s the card he gave you?”
Being slightly more agile than I am, he reaches for my back pocket and slips the business card out of it. I try to deflect him but he’s too fast. Growing up together, we know each other as well as we know ourselves. My hand reaches for the card but he manages to get away from me.
“Hanna Smith,psychiatrist?” He leans into the word before glancing back at me. “He’s sending you to a shrink?”
I sigh heavily and grit my teeth before pulling the card from his hand. Tucking it back into my pocket, I cross my arms in front of me and lean against the kitchen counter.
“Did you tell him about last week? At the apartment fire?”
I watch as his eyes scan the floor, trying to recall what I’m talking about.
“No? What’s there to tell?”
“Apparently someone narked about how I ‘froze’ at the scene. I didn’t freeze; I was just assessing the situation and trying to come up with an action plan to contain the fire,” I explain.
His face wavers between a grimace and a frown. “Well…”
“Well what?” I bark, taking a step closer to him.
He reacts by taking a protective step back. “Well, dude,youdidkind of freeze. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t say anything to the chief about it but there was a hesitation there. You can’t act like there wasn’t.”
Leave it to him to keep it real with me like he always does. While he might walk around like he has the entire sun shoved up his ass half the time, he never fails to keep shit real when he needs to.
I roll my neck and move towards the fridge. “That doesn’t mean I need therapy. I’m fine; I wish people fucking believed that.”
A silence falls on the room and the only noise between us is the sound of me reheating the leftovers from yesterday’s dinner. When he doesn’t speak, which is unusual at best for him, I turn to look at him. A solemn expression has fallen over his face and he avoids my gaze.
“What happened to Wesley isn’t your fault, Miles,” he risks saying, sighing hard before bringing his eyes to mine.
A pit in my stomach opens up at the sound of his name. My throat feels tight as I try to come up with something to say.
“Accidents happen?—”
“And it’s my job to make sure they don’t,” I bite, clenching my fists on top of the counter.
“You tried to save him.”
“But I didn’t, did I? And now Harper and the girls have no one. She’s a widow and those three little girls will grow up without a father because of me.”
Guilt and shame grow in my gut and the burning heat I feel when I think about them is scorching the back of my neck. I forcefully push the container of food back on the counter, no longer hungry, and storm out of the kitchen.
“Miles, wait, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Carter calls out, following behind me.
“You didn’t. Like I said, I’m fine.” I take a breath and turn to face him. I reach for his arm and give his shoulder a reassuring tap. “Food’s all yours; I’m not hungry anymore. I’m going to go change and go for a run. I’ll have my phone on me if we get a call.”
