Things just kept getting worse, and the pressure mounts every which way I turn.
I studied medicine knowing it would be a difficult career choice. It was a given that I would need to put in more hours than an average job. This week kicked my ass to the gutter and buried me along with it.
Disaster after disaster and a full ER around the clock, I rarely stop to eat, let alone grab a drink of water. When I finally get home each morning, I can’t even function, struggling to stay awake and spend time with Zoey.
I’m snappy, at my worst, and she doesn’t seem to understand the pressure I am under. Yesterday, I almost lost a patient on the table because I was so exhausted and wasn’t thinking clearly. Thank God Raine was beside me, pointing out where I’d almost made a mistake. Something which could have cost me my career.
It’s not just the long shifts that weigh on my mind. It’s also the upcoming wedding and Zoey’s newfound friendship with a man I’ve never met. A man who Mia’s referenced on more than one occasion to be ‘English sex on legs.’ While Zoey never comments, her smile that followed had me seeing red. The fucker irked me. Even though I’ve never laid eyes on him, the fact he spends more time with my fiancée than I do has left me bad-tempered.
And I’ve been taking it out on one person—Zoey.
Not seeing her as often as I like has become a strain on our relationship. And every spare moment she has, she’s out meeting caterers, dressmakers, stationary people, you name it. Her head is wrapped around this wedding. I wish I could be more involved. Despite my earlier reluctance, I actually do give a shit about some things. Like where we will spend our honeymoon because I plan to devour her body for the entire trip.
“What a night.” Raine collapses on the staff lounger beside me removing her hair from the tight bun only to re-do it again. Why do women do that?
“Did I thank you in the past twenty hours for saving me?”
“I think a dozen times. But let’s hear it one more time just to boost my ego.”
“Thank you.” I smile, touching her hand to show her how grateful I am. How easily fatigue caught up with me and could have damaged everything I worked so damn hard for.
Her eyes wander to where my hand rests, and immediately, I remove it. Shit. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Fuck, I need sleep.
“You’re welcome.” She bumps my shoulder with hers and continues to smile as if it didn’t mean anything. Thank God.
“You know what the best part is? I get to go home now and put my mom hat on.”
“I don’t know how you do it. You’re just…” I trail off, unsure of how to voice my admiration without coming across like a dick.
“I’m nothing, Drew. I made mistakes, twice actually. I should have been careful, but I was too caught up. These two mistakes are the best thing to happen to me, but it’s hard work and something I have to do. My boys deserve a good life. I can sleep when I’m dead.” She has her head screwed on and knows where her priorities lie.
My cell inside my front pocket vibrates, and I remove it reading the text from Zoey.
Zoey: Invitations sent, but they used the wrong sticker to seal the envelope. I’m so upset they screwed it up!
And just like that, I’m brought back to reality. I don’t even know how to respond, and instead, don’t. After our argument last week over Zoey having lunch with Slater, there’s constantly a giant elephant in the room. We never discuss it, avoiding each other or just making civil conversation. I fucking miss the old Zoey, the one who would watch television and ridicule Bridezillas because all she ever wanted was a wedding in a small chapel with Elvis and some old lady witnessing the nuptials, armed with a bottle of tequila on the side to get the party started.
“I should head home. More wedding stuff that’ll probably get dumped on my shoulders,” I say without thinking, venting my frustrations.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married. It’s a big deal, you know.”
“As big as having two kids?” I crack, grabbing my bag from my locker and pulling out my hoody.
“Depends on how you view marriage.”
“A lifelong commitment to someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
Raine grins, standing up and removing her shirt. She’s wearing a tank underneath that says ‘Vegan.’ I divert my eyes back to my locker pretending I didn’t notice that she appeared braless. You’re tired, and you miss your fiancée. Ignore everything.
“Wow, can I clone you? Why aren’t there more guys like you around?” she asks with a slight chuckle.
Grabbing her jacket from her bag, she rummages around and finally producing a nut bar from the healthy café a block over. It’s my favorite one, too. Ripping into the packaging, she takes a bite closing her eyes. “How good are these bars? I’m so glad they have that place around the corner.”
“The best,” I respond, enjoying that we have common eating habits. “Have you tried the fig one?”
“Yes,” she answers, chewing. “I bought like ten of them. My kids love them. Plus, the kale chips? Heaven, I tell you.”
“I can’t get over the rubbish people put in their mouths. Zoey’s a bottomless pit when it comes to candy bars and pizza.”