Yours Truly (Part of Your World, #2)(4)

The only problem with anger is that it burns hot and fast. It doesn’t tend to burn long.

Sadness burns long. Grief. Disappointment.

I realized that’s what I was afraid was going to happen on the nineteenth. My divorce would be final, my rage would finally burn out, and I’d be left with what was left of me.

And that wasn’t much.





Chapter 2

Jacob



I pulled into the parking lot and sat there staring through the windshield, debating whether I should just go.

Amy and Jeremiah wanted to talk to me.

There really was only one reason they would need to at this point. I knew what it was. I’d been expecting it for months now. There was almost a morbid sense of relief that we were finally getting it over with. I looked glumly at the sign on the building.

BAD AXE GRILL.

That was where they’d decided to do this, a damn ax-throwing bar. This is where they were going to drop the bomb? The location of this meeting was only slightly less awful than the news I was about to get.

It would be loud. There would be drunks. People in wedding veils and birthday hats hooting and cheering, shouting over the music. It was the kind of place that felt thick, like everyone was sitting on top of one another. Strangers would bump into me, the bathrooms would be filthy and crowded, the tables would be sticky. Like an adult version of a Chuck E. Cheese with booze and obnoxious frat boys.

I felt my heart beginning to pound at the idea of being in there.

I never went to bars unless I was being dragged. Jeremiah should know better. He was my brother, he knew about my dislike for places like this, that I got overstimulated and overwhelmed. But my guess was he was deferring to Amy—and this was very, very her. She’d take me to a place like this and be bewildered when I’d want to leave as soon as humanly possible. She’d say something like, “But they’re famous for their wings! You love wings, that’s why I brought you here!” as if the right buffalo sauce could mitigate the rest of it.

No wonder she’d left.

I was boring and withdrawn and impossible to understand. Even after two and a half years together.

I shifted in my seat. I should just go. Tell them I’d talk to them later. I was so drained I could barely think straight. I’d started a new job today. Lost every patient who walked into my ER.

I rubbed my temples. I felt like the angel of death. People dying is inevitable in my line of work. You can’t save them all, and it’s na?ve to think you have any control over what comes through those sliding doors. But on my first day?

The nurses hated me. I could feel the loathing dripping off them my whole shift. And none of the other attendings even came over to say hi.

I’d second-guessed everything in the last twelve hours. Quitting Memorial West to go somewhere new, giving up my leadership position, starting over. It had sounded like a good idea in theory, but I think I’d overestimated my adaptability. I felt unmoored, like I was being tossed around on some choppy sea and all the captains of the passing boats were sneering at me instead of throwing me a lifeline.

Being in this hellhole of a restaurant would suck the last of the energy from my already-depleted soul.

Maybe I could do this meeting tomorrow instead. But if I left, Amy and Jeremiah would assume I was hurt. That I wasn’t over it. Couldn’t handle it. Even if I explained it was the place and not the news, they’d never believe me. I’d dated Amy for years and hadn’t succeeded in making her understand my anxiety, so why would she get it now?

I wished there was some sort of autopilot I could slip into, like I usually did at work. A muscle memory to move me through the motions. But it would have to be all me. I’d have to be awake for it. Fully aware.

I let out a long breath, turned off the truck, and got out to drag myself into the bar. A young woman with a nose ring was working the hostess stand and took me through to a table in the back where my ex-girlfriend and my younger brother sat side by side in a booth.

They were laughing and leaning into each other before they saw me, but the second they did they jumped apart.

My stomach twisted at seeing them together.

They’d been disinvited to the monthly family dinner at my parents’ house, so I hadn’t been forced to see this with my own eyes until now. I felt ill.

I sat down and tried my best to appear relaxed. “Hey. Sorry I’m late.”

Amy chewed on her lip in that way she did when she was nervous. “It’s okay. We figured you might go for drinks or something with your new coworkers. You know, for your first day?”

I scoffed to myself.

“Thank you for coming,” she said.

I nodded.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump thump thump.

Axes hitting walls.

I could feel the tunnel vision of an anxiety attack plucking at the edges of my sight, and I wondered how long I had until I’d have to get up and go, whether it was appropriate or not.

They sat there, looking at me like they didn’t know how to start.

I glanced at my watch. “I have an early shift tomorrow…” I lied.

Amy nodded. “Right. Sorry.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “So, I don’t really know how to say this…”

“You’re getting married,” I said.

I could see the confirmation on her apologetic face before she uttered a word.