He folds his lips like he’s considering all the ways he could tell me hell no. But in the end, he says, “Yes, it would be best for all involved if we both stayed here.”
I blow out a quick breath of relief. “Thank you.”
“No, actually, thank you, Cynda,” he says. He grits out the words as if it’s paining him to say them. “If you hadn’t insisted on going out to see Mavis yourself, she might have died. You were right about that, and I was wrong. You blame yourself, but I would have been the one to blame if Mavis had died alone on her farm. I should have listened to you.”
I’m….
I’m not sure what to do with that. There’s probably no such thing as a woman who doesn’t love being told she was right. But in this case… “I wish I had been wrong. I wish there hadn’t been any reason to go out there.”
We share a moment like we used to, back when we were both working in the Emergency Department and understood just how hard it was to make all the decisions that could mean life or death for our patients.
But then the moment is done.
Rhys rises from the table. “I should start canceling all of my appointments for the next two weeks.”
I awkwardly clear the dishes while he sits at Grandma’s old rolldown secretary desk and gets to appointment canceling.
I’d forgotten how DIY he was. Other than the one time with Dr. Rahjeen’s chart, he’d never asked me for anything outside my expected duties. Which had made it hard for me when I’d received his first 360 evaluation right after Ingrid showed up at his apartment. But I’d done the right thing, grudgingly admitting that he was efficient and capable and a good communicator—basically all the things it took for an Emergency Room Physician to be good at his job.
I join Rhys in the living room after the dishes are done. While he messages his patients at Grandma’s desk, I sit on the couch and break the news to E.
Then I answer her many questions about who is supposed to do what.
“Do I have to cook and clean for A or does he have to start doing all that stuff himself? You know he’ll leave that game room a mess and be like it’s clean enough for the whole time you’re gone. He’s so gross.”
“I’ll have a separate conversation with him,” I assure her before texting her to bring over a few things.
“So how’s it going with ur Quaranboo?” she messages after receiving my list.
That was the one question I didn’t answer.
But I did make us dinner a few hours later. If I were in a better position, I’d of course offer to pay Rhys back for his hospitality by waiving a few weeks off his rent. But I’m not, so I guess I’m going to have to make myself as useful as possible for the next two weeks.
By the time dinner is done, we’re both kind of dragging. It’s been a while since either of us were in the ED, and we’re no longer used to the huge adrenaline spikes that come with life or death scenarios.
“I’m knocking off,” he says when I come back to the living room after washing the dishes.
“Me, too,” I agree with a huge yawn.
So we’re in agreement about bedtime too. This is off to a good start. Other than some ill-advised shower sex, we’re getting along and being reasonable and maybe that means the next two weeks won’t be so bad.
Friends…
Maybe we’ll actually come out of this situation as friends. Yeah, maybe if I play nice, my friend, Rhys, will agree to stop being bitter and give me my job back.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” I immediately offer, warming up to the idea.
He casts me an unfathomable look. “That sofa is only a love seat. It’s much too small.”
“Okay, the floor then. If you get me some blankets…”
“Cynda?” he says, his voice irritated.
“Yes?”
His hand closes around mine. “It’s been a long day. Let’s go to bed.”
Just like that, the adrenaline is back. He’s holding my hand. Holding my hand and guiding me to bed.
I follow him, docile as a lamb.
And I guess I’m not as tired as I thought. After we’ve crawled into bed, I lie there for a long time in the semi-dark.
It’s been three years since I allowed myself to feel anything for anyone outside of a select few family and friends.
And I hadn’t chosen Rhys to be among those select few. I shut him out. And considering what had happened between us over the past few weeks, leaving him locked out of my fortress seemed like a good idea.
But my emotions—the ones I’ve been trying to shut down since my mother died…they’re a swirling. Again. Because of Rhys. And I don’t know what to do with them now, just like I didn’t know what to do with them back then.