“Taking the fellowship doesn’t mean he wants it more than he wants you,” Marissa tries to reason.
“I know,” I sigh. “And that’s why I feel so bad wishing he’d decide on his own to stay here.”
“You shouldn’t feel bad about it. No one wants their boyfriend to go away for work.”
I wrinkle my nose. “True. I’m faking my happiness, so I do feel bad.”
“Don’t fake it. Tell him how you feel.”
“Then he might not take it.”
Marissa widens her eyes. “Which is what you want.”
“Yeah, but because he doesn’t want to, not because he knows I don’t want him to go.”
Marissa shakes her head. “What’s the damn difference?”
“The root of his decision?” I try, knowing I probably sound insane. “I love him and want him to be happy.”
“Don’t you think he wants the same for you?”
My phone rings before I can answer her. “It’s Archer.”
“I’ll catch up later,” Marissa says, going to the door. “I need to hear all about this new company you might leave me for.”
Waiting until Marissa has closed the door behind her, I answer. “Hey, Arch.”
“Hey, babe. How are you?”
“All right. I just got to work. You?”
“I’m just leaving work.”
“You’ve been there all night?”
“Yeah,” he groans. “I have a few hours to sleep before going back. I have a Whipple today, so I’ll be in surgery for eight or so hours.”
“What the heck is a Whipple? Sounds kinda kinky.”
“It’s a pancreaticoduodenectomy,” he says.
“Oh right, one of those.”
He laughs. “It’s basically removing cancerous tumors from the head of the pancreas. It’s a long procedure.”
“Wow. That’s intense.”
“It is, and the pathology isn’t the greatest for this patient.”
“I’m not sure what that means either, but good luck? Is that the right thing to say?”
“I guess. It’s just work for me, though this isn’t as routine as removing a gallbladder.”
I smile, imagining Archer in his blue scrubs. “Did you think about the fellowship any more?”
“Yeah…I think I should do it.”
My eyes fall shut and I put on a smile, forgetting for a moment that he can’t see me. “Great. It’s such a good opportunity.”
“It is. What about you? Have you heard anything more about your job?”
“No, not yet.” Someone knocks on my office door. I move the phone away from my face. “Come in,” I call.
“Do you need to go?” Archer asks.
“Yeah. I suppose I should work at work, right?”
Archer chuckles. “Right. I’ll call you later. Love you, babe.”
“Love you too.” I hang up, and the uneasy feeling comes back. I don’t want to drift apart after we finally got together.
27
Archer
“Your frequent flyer is back.”
“Are you serious?” I look up from the paperwork I’ve been filling out for the last twenty minutes, knowing by the nurse’s face she is.
“Popped stitches. ER sent him up.”
“They can’t do stitches down there?” I grumble.
The nurse rolls her eyes. “Apparently ‘it’s internal,’ and he needs to see a surgeon. Like we can just put him in front of our other patients. Do you want me to send him back down?”
“No, I’ll deal with it. Thank you, though.”
I finish my paperwork and deal with the difficult patient, who had a hernia repaired a month ago and hasn’t followed post-op instructions at all. He’s been in three times since his operation. I do rounds after that, finish my paperwork and finally go home after a twenty-six-hour shift.
Another resident who’s been in the program with me since the beginning got into a car accident and broke several bones in her hand. She’s unable to operate and just thinking about it makes my stomach churn. It’s a shitty blow to be this close to the end and have an injury that could prevent you from performing surgery ever again. Another resident and I had to pick up the slack this past week, and needless to say, I’m fucking exhausted.
It doesn’t help the situation with Quinn. It’s been nearly a week since we’ve seen each other and as every day passes, the tension grows. She’s encouraging and understanding and thinks I should do the fellowship because there’s no promise I’ll get in again. I don’t want her to think it’s a decision I’ve taken lightly, but I’ve worked so hard to get here.
I call her when I get into my car, seriously wondering if I’ll be able to make it home without falling asleep behind the wheel. The good news about working all these hours is that I’m maxed out for the week and can’t work the weekend.
“Hey,” she answers cheerfully. “How are you?”
“Tired but alive. You?”
“Tired too, but good. I’m packing to go back to Eastwood this weekend.”
“Oh right, the downtown Trick or Treating is tonight. What’s Jackson going as this year?”
“A Stormtrooper. And it’s actually not too cold today. I hated having to wear a coat over my costume.”
“Me too. We had snow on Halloween many times and putting that coat on ruined my look.”
She laughs. “Yeah. It’s seventy and sunny at home, which is exciting. It’ll feel like a movie Halloween or something.” She zips up her suitcase in the background. “How was work?”
“I’m finally leaving.”
“Finally? How long have you been at the hospital?”
“Since yesterday afternoon.”
“Arch, that’s not good for you! Are you driving right now?”
“Yep. Want to talk to me until I get home? Make sure I don’t pass out.”
“That is not funny,” she says pointedly.
“Sadly, I’m not joking.”
“I thought you said someone was supposed to come in and help cover those patients.”
I sigh. “They haven’t yet. Some of these procedures should have been canceled but the hospital is money-hungry.”
“Aren’t they all?”
“It’s what makes the world go ‘round.”
“Do you have the rest of the day off?”
“I do, luckily. I’m supposed to get ten hours off between each shift, but that doesn’t always happen.”
Silence falls between us, and I hate it.
“So, what do you want to do about the baby shower?” she asks. “My mom keeps bugging me. The easiest thing would be to have it before you leave.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Dean’s not going to be happy about that.”
“Dean can deal. He and Kara can pick another weekend in December. They can pick any weekend they want since they both live in the same town.” She sighs. “Sorry, I’m just frustrated today.”
“What’s going on?”
“My wrist hurts, and the round ligament pain is back. The cats spilled a food bowl over and I didn’t realize kibble got under the fridge and now I have ants. But seriously, how do they get all the way up here? I’m on the tenth floor. I got spray and then realized it wasn’t safe to use while pregnant or around the cats, so I’ve been vacuuming them up all afternoon. I tried to move my fridge but it’s too heavy and I don’t want to make those stupid ligaments hurt even more than they already do.”
I feel bad I’m not there to help her. “Sam and I had ants when we first moved in. Get the traps that have poison inside. It won’t hurt your cats but will kill the queen ant because the worker ants take the food back to their nest.”
“Okay. I have to run out before I leave, anyway. I’m almost out of cat litter and I don’t feel like dealing with that old lady at the pet store telling me how I shouldn’t clean the litter box since I’m pregnant, but who else is going to do it?”
I could do it…if I were there. And Quinn has been cautious and safe
, knowing how to avoid getting sick from cleaning the litter box.
“How bad is the pain?”
“It’s not abnormal. I saw my OB yesterday and she said everything is fine.”
“I didn’t know you had a doctor appointment yesterday.” We hardly spoke yesterday since I was at the hospital and didn’t have a chance to check in. Guilt creeps over me. It’s going to be like this again in the fellowship. “Everything went okay?”
“Yeah. I scheduled my mid-pregnancy ultrasound too but can reschedule if you can’t make it that day. You do want to come, right?”