Chapter 2

Shea~

W hen I'd been growing up, I'd been fascinated with the nature of healthcare, and I'd always believed that there was this inherent nobility in helping others. When people were generally geared towards selfishness, I'd always been in awe of those that could put others first, saving the day, not for recognition but because it was the right thing to do. I had always envisioned this world of doctors, nurses, firefighters, EMT, etc. living lives like real-life superheroes.

Well, I'd been wrong.

So very fucking wrong.

Though saving a life was an incredible thing to experience, there was absolutely nothing glamourous about it, and when it was all said and done, it was always the doctors that got the credit, which was something that I wrestled with often. While the doctors deserved a lot of the accolades, none of them fought in the trenches alone. So, yeah, while the doctors did the important work, nurses did the hard work, so it sucked when we weren't recognized for our efforts or were told that we shouldn't need a thank you for doing our jobs.

At any rate, I was already thirty-three and had no desire to start over with another career. Besides, thank yous or not, I was good at my job, and there wasn't a week that went by when I didn't learn something new, which I enjoyed. I'd always been a learner, so picking a field that continuously evolved had been the right choice for me, though there were times when I had to question my own sanity. I had chosen my own path in life, and I still didn't know if that'd been the best decision that I'd ever made or the stupidest.

See, growing up, my parents, Patrick and Bronaugh Burke, had always believed that I would go into the family business one day because I was their only child. According to my father, a child was obligated to carry on a family's legacy, but I hadn't ever really seen my father's business as something noble to pass down from generation to generation. My parents owned a pawn shop, and I'd never seen it as anything more than a sad, desperate, final stop for some people, and that was not how I'd wanted to live my life. I hadn't wanted to spend my life listening to people begging for my mercy, and if it wasn't for the fact that the shop supported my parents, I wouldn't care if it ever got shut down.

Now, that wasn't to say that I looked down on what my parents did or that I didn't appreciate how they'd been able to raise me comfortably from the profits of the shop, because I didn't look down on my parents and I was appreciative of all that they'd done for me. It was just that pawn shops felt so disheartening to me. It was one of the last places of hope, and if that wasn't depressing, then I didn't know what was. Pawn shops were always littered with family heirlooms, wedding rings, antiques, etc., and I didn't like to think about how desperate someone's life had become to make them have to walk into a place that charged enough interest to guarantee that you'd never get your memories back.

So, after months of arguing, my parents had finally accepted the writing on the wall, and I'd been allowed to go to nursing school without having to sacrifice my family for that choice. My mother had come around a lot faster than my father had wanted to, but in the end, they still had their shop, and I worked at Donza Medical. Though it wasn't as hailed as Calgary Medical, the care given at Donza was top-notch, and I was lucky enough to actually like the people that I worked with. Luckily, the day shift wasn't as hectic as the night shift, but any twelve-hour shift wasn't easy. Our rotations at the hospital were three on, three off, two on, two off, and though I visited my parents often, I was quickly losing the stamina that I'd had in my twenties and preferred to stay home if I could. While I didn't mind a night out with my coworkers, once a month was plenty for me.

As for my dating life, it was non-existent, and not for lack of trying. At thirty-three, I definitely wasn't a virgin, and I enjoyed sex just as much as the next girl, but men sucked. Though it was unfair to make such a blanket statement of the opposite sex, it was a true statement as far as I could see. Everything about men and women had been set with the odds against us, and I honestly had no idea how couples made it. Even your grandparents and great-grandparents' love stories were a joke; they had simply stayed together because divorce had been unheard of for their generations. However, if you listen to a man that's over the age of seventy talk about his wife, it might alarm you enough to think that he could be poisoning her fiber drinks.

There were so many couples that stayed together for reasons other than love, and if you asked me, that did not sound appealing. I mean, who in the hell wanted to spend the rest of their lives with someone that didn't even love them?

See, the problem was that women matured faster than men, but if you were a twenty-something female dating a thirty/forty-something male, then you were a gold-digger and he was a creeper, never mind that you both just happened to want a serious relationship at different ages in your lives. The other side of that was if you were a forty/fifty-something female dating a twenty/thirty-something male, then you were a child molester and he was a user, never mind that you both just wanted to have a good time at that stage in your life. You couldn't win, no matter which one you were. People were so quick to judge a person's intentions, even when that person was a complete stranger, knowing nothing about them.

Couples drifting apart was a real thing, and how did you fight something like that when growth was inevitable? No matter how much you loved a person, you couldn't have it all, so how could you possibly know which sacrifices were the right ones? While I might bitch about my job, I still loved it, and I still loved making a difference, but what were the odds of finding a man that was going to be okay with my chaotic schedule, having to shoulder the burden lots of the time?

"Hey, did you hear?"

I turned to see one of my co-workers grinning at me from the doorway of the women's locker room. I'd had to come in here earlier for some headache medicine, and I'd been dragging my feet on getting back to work. I was only two hours away from going home, but the final stretch of my shift was always a painful one.

"Hear what?"

Clemintine Brooks-and that was her real name-walked further into the room before letting the door shut behind her. "Supposedly, Alma Hornsby is getting transferred for ‘professional growth'," she snorted.

"No," I rushed out dramatically.

Clemmy nodded. "Whatever demon she sold her soul to is allowing her to keep her job as a nurse, only she can't work here."

It was the worst-kept secret at Donza that Alma was having an affair with Dr. Hogan Charleston, and while lots of affairs happened inside hospital walls, it was rumored that Dr. Charleston had gotten Alma knocked-up, and at this point, all of us eagerly awaited each week's episode of the clusterfuck that Dr. Charleston had gotten himself into.

"I wonder how many favors Dr. Charleston had to call in to pull that miracle off," I huffed.

"No shit," Clemmy cackled. "It's all fun and games until a paternity suit has you paying child support for the next eighteen years."

I shook my head. "I just don't understand it. His wife seems so lovely. Granted, I've only met her a couple of times when she's stopped by, but still."

"Some men just can't keep it in their pants," Clemmy replied gloomily.

"Well, with Alma gone, what are the odds that he'll be looking for a replacement soon?"

"The betting's already begun," she announced. "What me to put your bets down?"

Despite the topic being a disgusting one, I laughed. "I'll just congratulate the winner when the time comes."

Clemmy's hazel eyes regarded me a bit before saying, "The new guy has been asking about you again."

"I don't date people that I work with," I reminded her, something that I was very adamant about.

"Yeah, I know," she drawled out disappointedly. "However, I don't think he's ready to admit defeat yet. Besides, I think you're crazy. If there was ever a man to break the rules for, it's that man."

Olex Svensson started working at Donza two months ago, and there was no denying that the man was easy on the eyes. He was tall at about six-foot, had light blonde hair, pretty green eyes, and his face looked like it was carved from stone. He also looked good in his scrubs, proof that the man worked out enough to find appealing. He was reportedly very smart, charming, personable, and it was said that he coached little league. He was also three-years divorced and had two sons, both very active in sports. Of course, that was the locker room gossip, though his looks were fact.

"I'm not ready to give up my peaceful days off to watch a bunch of parents ruin sports for their children every weekend," I harrumphed. "I'm good."

Clemmy laughed. "Well, I just thought that you should know."

"Thank you," I replied sincerely. "I appreciate it."

"Not a problem," she grinned. "Just keep those batteries stocked, and you'll be fine."

She had no idea how close to the truth she was.