26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Beck

I set down the chart in my hand and rub my temples. This headache is kicking my ass. Between it, and the lack of sleep, it’s a miracle I’m even functioning. I forced myself to put the stupid rabbit back on its shelf last night, and that may have been a mistake. For better or worse, it helps me sleep.

“Hey, Beck. There’s a guy in room three who needs stitches in his hand. He’s already numbed up,” Michelle says. I nod and head over, opening the door without looking up.

“Hi, I’m Beck. Let me take a look at that hand.” There’s a gasp, and when I lift my head, I’m staring into the honey-brown eyes of Roman fucking Miller.

“Beck,” he breathes. His voice washes over me for the first time in a decade. I’m rooted to the spot, professionalism the only thing keeping me in place when I want to run out of the room. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t breathe, let alone speak.

We just stare at each other. I’m sure the shock on his face is mirrored on mine. The door behind me swings open, and I turn around to see Holden rushing into the room. He doesn’t even spare me a glance as he darts past me and runs to Roman. “Holy shit, what happened? I came as soon as I got your message that you were here.”

Roman seems to shake himself out of his shock, smiling up at my tiny twink of a nurse. My knees go a little weak as white-hot jealousy rips through me. “I’m fine, Hold. Cut my damn hand slicing peppers for dinner.”

Holden reaches down and gently lifts Roman’s hand, examining the cut. “Shit, Ro. It’s good that you came in,” Holden says, turning Roman’s hand back and forth.

Roman laughs, and the sound makes my stomach twist. “Yeah, I knew that’s what you’d say. That’s why I’m here.”

I clear my throat. “How do you two know each other?” I ask, trying and failing to keep my voice calm and disinterested.

Holden turns to me, his glossy lips turned up in a smile, the corners of his lined eyes crinkling. “We go way back,” he says, before turning his gaze back to Roman like he didn’t just obliterate my entire world. They clearly know each other. There’s an easy familiarity to their interactions, like they’re close friends… or lovers. I knew there was a chance that Roman had moved on, but I never would have thought it would be like this. Never imagined I’d have to see it in front of me at work—or worse , work alongside the person who has the man who should be mine.

Holden glances at me with a grin. “This one is special. You have to take really good care of him.” Is this seriously happening? How am I going to get through this day?

“Holden, if you could step out so I can take care of my patient,” I say, trying to maintain professionalism.

Roman turns his attention to me for the first time since Holden came in, and his eyes connecting with mine feel like taking a bullet to the chest. “No,” he says slowly. “He can stay.”

“Oh shit, wait,” Holden says, his gaze flicking between the two of us, his soft green eyes calculating. “Beck,” he mumbles, almost to himself, and then his eyes widen. “Holy shit, Ro! This is your Beck?”

I hold my breath, waiting to see what Roman is going to say. “Um. No. Not my Beck, but yes. This is Beck.”

The air is knocked from my lungs, the pain so intense I nearly double over. The worst part is, I don’t even know why. Of course I’m not his Beck. I’m not his anything. Not anymore. Ha. Try telling that to my broken and bleeding heart.

Holden seems completely unaware, but Roman’s gaze is fixed on me. He knows. “Actually, Hold. Go back to work. Let Beck stitch me up, and I’ll see you at home tonight, okay?”

Holden’s lips turn down, but he doesn’t argue. He presses a kiss to Roman’s forehead before breezing out of the room. The kiss left a bit of shiny gloss behind, but he either doesn’t notice it or doesn’t care. I almost can’t drag my eyes from it, my stomach churning heavily at the sight.

“So you’re a doctor now?” he asks, his eyes roaming my face like he’s trying to memorize it.

“No. I’m a PA. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? Since you weren’t there when I got home from making that decision,” I snap, my tone sharp, even to my own ears.

He grimaces, pain flashing in his eyes, and my breath gets caught in my lungs. An apology forms on my tongue, but I bite my cheek to the point of pain to keep it from coming out. Fuck. Why am I even letting him get under my skin?

“Let me see your hand,” I say instead, moving to wash my hands and put on gloves. I sit on a stool and roll toward him. His breath hitches when I get close. I know I have to actually touch him to examine his hand, but I’m not sure if I can. I want to touch him almost as much as I want to run from the room and pretend this whole thing isn’t happening. My fingers twitch as I reach toward him, and when I make contact with his wrist, I have to choke down a gasp. The glove does nothing to mute the warmth of his skin. I stare down at the connection, and Roman clears his throat.

I blink a couple of times, forcing myself back to the task at hand. It’s not a big cut, but it is deep. My eyes flick up to his face without my permission, and I take in the scar above his eye. “Another cooking accident?” I ask, nodding toward his face.

He shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything. I sigh, standing to grab a suture kit.

“It happened on that last day,” he says softly.

I pause, taking in his words.

“Orbital fracture. They had to do surgery to fix it, but he also split my eyebrow open,” he adds.

“Hmm, if only someone had cared enough about you to warn you away from going by yourself. Oh wait, someone did.” His startled gasp fills the room, and my heart sinks. Why the fuck did I say that?

“Yeah,” he says, his voice thick.

I force myself to turn back to him, and his eyes are downcast, the fingers of his uninjured hand tapping anxiously against his thigh.

I open my mouth to speak. “I—” is all I manage before he interrupts me.

“Just stitch my hand so I can go. Or get someone else in here to do it. I don’t care.”

“I didn’t mean to—” I start, but his gaze shoots back to mine and the hurt swimming in his eyes stops me in my tracks. Ugh. Why the fuck am I trying to hurt him? Because he hurt you.

I take a deep breath, regain my composure, and get my shit together. I’m a fucking medical professional, and I will act like it. I sit back down and stitch his hand in silence. He doesn’t make a sound, but I can feel his eyes on me. I don’t dare look up from my work.

When I’m done, I toss the needle into the sharps container and stand. I force myself to meet his eyes, determined to treat him like any other patient. “If you don’t have a primary care doctor, come back in two weeks, and I’ll take them out,” I say, proud of how even my voice sounds.

He quietly inspects my work, then his eyes find mine again. “I live with a nurse, Beck. I’ll have Holden do it.”

Holden. Of fucking course. I gnash my teeth against the growl that wants to break free of my chest and turn on my heel, storming out of the room without another word.

The second I step through the door, I literally collide with Holden, and my mood plummets further. “What the fuck? Watch where you’re going.”

He turns to me slowly, a glare on his pretty face, and raises an eyebrow at me. “You ran into me . Also, fix your tone.”

I stare at him, shocked. Who the hell does he think he is? He continues to glare, but before I can respond, he barrels on. “We’re at work. You’ve had no issues with me until right now. My relationship with Roman should have no bearing whatsoever on your professionalism with me.”

His relationship with Roman. Fuck . I drop my gaze and take a shaky breath and then another, tears burning my eyes. I will not cry at work. I won’t. His hand touches my arm, and I glance up at him. His expression is soft and gentle in a way I definitely don’t deserve. “It’s hard, I know. It’s hard for him too.”

I sputter a bitter laugh. “Yeah, leaving without a trace must have been really hard for him.”

His eyes harden, and he pulls his hand away. “You don’t know a fucking thing about him, Beck.”

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? I was supposed to. I should . I don’t, though. Because he left me. Fuck, why am I still so hung up on that? I already can’t even make it a solid week without thinking about him—the memories haunting me at every waking moment. And now he’s in my ER, in the flesh, ruining my life all over again.

“I have to go,” I choke out as I take off in a full sprint, dodging people left and right. I’m sure I look like a lunatic, but I don’t even care. I duck into a supply closet, slam the door shut, and collapse onto the floor, slumping against the wall. My eyes burn, and I know I’m seconds away from losing my shit. I try to breathe deeply, but it doesn’t work.

There’s a knock on the door, and I’m trying to compose myself enough to answer when I hear Mom’s voice. “Beck, you okay?”

I try to answer, but I can’t get any words out. Thankfully, she doesn’t let that stop her. The door creaks open, and then she’s in the supply closet, kneeling in front of me. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“Roman,” I choke out, unable to say anything else. My lungs are frozen, betraying me, and I can’t breathe.

Mom cups my face in her hands, her eyes confused and worried. I can see her lips moving, but I can’t hear anything. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, my breath coming in choppy pants. Fuck. I hate this. Come on Beck, calm yourself down. You can do this. My eyes dart around the room.

Mom.

Floor.

Shelf.

Box of masks.

Mop.

I take a breath. My numb fingers reach out and connect with something soft.

Mom’s scrubs.

The floor under me.

Mom’s hands on my face.

The wall against my back.

Another breath. A little easier this time.

Mom’s voice.

The noise coming from the ER.

My ragged breathing.

Deep breath. Then another.

Mom’s floral perfume.

Disinfectant.

Another deep breath.

The coffee I drank earlier.

My lungs fill fully. My heart rate slows. Mom’s voice finally makes sense. “You’re okay, love. You’re doing great.”

I nod. “I’m okay. I’m alright.”

“You are,” she says softly. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Roman’s here.”

Confusion fills her face. “Here in the hospital?”

“Yes, I just gave him stitches. The new nurse, Holden, knows him.”

Now she looks even more confused. I untangle my fingers from her scrubs, drawing my knees to my chest and burying my face in my hands. “When did he come back?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

“Is that why you’re in the closet, working yourself through a panic attack? Because he’s back?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” I take a shaky breath. “I never thought he’d come back. I’d hoped, but then years passed by, and he never did, so I thought that was it. He wasn’t going to come back. And now he’s here. I don’t know what to do.”

Mom’s quiet for a few minutes before saying, “Who says you have to do anything? It’s been ten years, Beck. Let sleeping dogs lie.”

How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to walk around knowing the thing I’ve hoped and wished for a million times over the last ten years has finally happened? How am I supposed to let sleeping dogs lie when I’ve been cuddling his stupid rabbit so I can sleep for the past week? For the past ten years , if I’m being truly honest.

“He didn’t come see me when he got here,” I whisper, irritated with myself that I’m even focusing on that. I shouldn’t care, but apparently I do because my mouth is running away from me, and I can’t stop it. “If he hadn’t needed stitches, and I hadn’t been working, I wouldn’t even know. Why didn’t he at least try to come see me?”

“Would you have wanted him to?”

“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation. Even with all the agony of him leaving, I would give anything to have him back again, in any way I could. Even if that was just him stopping in to see me and let me know he was alive. But he didn’t. He still doesn’t want me . God, that hurts. Will this ever stop hurting? For fuck’s sake. This wound has been ripped open so many fucking times. Am I ever going to heal? I’m starting to think I won’t.

I stand quickly. “I have to get back to work.”

Mom stands too, eyeing me warily. “How much longer do you have in your shift?”

I glance at my watch. “Less than an hour. I’ll be okay.” I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Thank you for checking on me. How did you find me?”

The worry in her eyes is impossible to miss. She spent so much time picking up the broken pieces of my heart. After a while, I stopped showing them to her. She was worried sick about me back then and I couldn’t take it. She hasn’t heard about my woes over Roman in years. That’s reserved for Riley these days. “Michelle paged me. When you find out your son is running through the hospital like a madman is chasing him, it makes you a little nervous.”

No madman, just my own thoughts and the memories of my long-lost love. “I’m alright. I wasn’t expecting to see him like that. It threw me for a loop, but I’m good.”

Mom doesn’t look convinced. I don’t blame her—I’m not convinced either. But there’s nothing to do but put on a brave face, get through my shift, and avoid Holden for the rest of my life. Oh, and cry myself to sleep tonight with Roman’s rabbit. It’s good. It’s fine. Nothing to see over here. Just a normal adult with the ability to process complex emotions.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Mom nods and hugs me. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”

The mom hug is deadly, and I feel tears springing to my eyes, so I gently push her away before I dissolve into full-blown hysterics. I’ve already made enough of a mess of things in the last thirty minutes.

I plaster a fake smile on my face and step back into the busy hallway. Mom follows me out, and we walk off in separate directions. I’m just at the edge of the emergency room when I spot Holden and Roman standing together. The sight stops me in my tracks and makes my heart race. Roman has his discharge papers in his hands, the stitches I did wrapped in gauze. Fuck, can’t believe I ran out before I did that. So much for professionalism. I feel like an interloper as I watch them. Holden’s small stature is really emphasized next to Roman. Goddamn, he’s put on a lot of muscle since I saw him last. Holden tilts his head back and laughs at something Roman says, and my stomach churns, jealousy nearly taking me to my knees. I can’t hear what they’re saying over the sound of the blood rushing through my ears. Roman smiles at him. It’s bright and happy. To make matters worse, his cheeks flush with color and my stomach gives a violent lurch.

I force myself to look away. Watching them interact will only hurt me more.