Page 17 of Forced Into Your Arms
“You lying.” I let out a laugh, realizing how ridiculous that sounded. “You worked too hard to become a nurse. One bad night ain’t running you off.”
Even though it sounded insane, I still responded with, “It wasn’t just a bad night.”
“I know it wasn’t.” She paused before adding, “But don’t let one man dying make you forget why you wanted this job in the first place.”
I didn’t respond because I couldn’t. She was right. Helping people was the only thing I’d ever been sure about. Even after everything with Evan, even after packing my life into boxes and moving back to Atlanta, nursing was the one thing that still made sense.
“I gotta get these kids ready for school,” Mariah said. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep.”
“I’ll try.”
“No, don’t try. Close your eyes and quit thinking for a couple hours.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I love you,” she told me.
“I love you too.”
I ended the call with Mariah and laid here for another minute before reaching over to my nightstand.
Vice Blackwell’s business card was still lying exactly where I’d left it after pulling it out of my scrub pocket. I picked it up, running my thumb across the words he wrote before letting out a slow breath.
If you remember anything... call me. Day or night.
I turned the card over between my fingers and for a second, I thought about sending a text saying,I’m sorry about your cousin.
It seemed like the right thing to do.
Then I stopped myself, asking myself what was I expecting him to say back…Thank you?
Nothing about losing someone that way deserved a text message from a stranger. Besides, the last thing he probably wanted was another reminder of what probably been one of the worst night of his life.
I slipped the card back onto the nightstand and locked my phone. If I remembered something, I’d call him. Until then, there wasn’t anything else to say.
I finally closed my eyes, and sometime between replaying the parking garage for the hundredth time and telling myself I had to stop thinking about it, exhaustion finally won.
The alarm on my phone felt like it went off five minutes after I closed my eyes.
I reached across the nightstand, silenced it, and stared at the ceiling for a second before checking the time.
It was Five-thirty.
“Damn...” My body wasn’t ready to move, but my bills didn’t care how tired I was. Neither did Grady.
After dragging myself out of bed, I made a quick cup of coffee and stood in the kitchen waiting for it to brew. Normally I’d scroll through social media while I waited, but I wasn’t in the mood to see engagement announcements, vacation pictures, or people pretending life was perfect.
I’d had enough reality for one night.
With my coffee in my hand, I walked over to the living room and looked at the stack of moving boxes still sitting against the wall.
“I really need to unpack y’all.”
I know those damn boxes were probably tired of looking at me just as tired as I was looking at them.
I let out a small laugh just from the thought. It wasn’t much, but it felt good to laugh about something that had nothing to do with death.
By the time I finished getting dressed, I felt a little more like myself. I put on my shoes, grabbed my bag, and got ready to head for the door. My eyes landed on the business card sitting on the nightstand again.
