Within These Walls (Within These Walls #1)(4)

“Hey, Jude. You’re just the person I was looking for. Would you mind following me? I wanted to talk with you for a minute,” she said.

I gave a curt nod and followed behind her, watching her dark brown bob in all directions, as she briskly walked down the long hall. In a sea of scrubs, she was the oddball dressed in a cheap blue wool suit. It looked itchy, and judging from the red scratch marks along her collar, I was guessing she would agree.

Cheap wool could make people break out into a rash faster than taking a hike through a forest of poison ivy. When I was around nine, our nanny, Lottie, had been instructed to take me shopping for a new wool blazer for Christmas Eve. It was something my mom had always loved doing, but I remembered that year as being particularly stressful, so she’d sent Lottie instead. Halfway through Mass, my father had pulled me out of the service because I couldn’t stop scratching. It turned out that Lottie had bought the blazer from a cheap knockoff store, and she’d pocketed the rest of my parents’ cash. Needless to say, that was the last Christmas she’d spent with us. It had been quite the adventure for the ten year old boy I had once been. When I retold the story to my friends, there were cops and robbers involved.

As Margaret and I made our way farther down the hall, she continued to fuss with her collar, but I refrained from making any comments. I’d left behind the life of expensive tailored suits and board meetings.

Jude, the nurses’ assistant, wouldn’t know shit about any of that. He was quiet, he didn’t have friends, and he never answered any questions about his past. It had taken awhile, but my coworkers had learned to respect these boundaries. After the first year of turning down every after-hours hangout opportunity, flirty date request, and party invite, they’d quickly figured out that I was a loner with a fortress of thick, impenetrable walls built around me.

I wasn’t about to go screw it up by making some snide comment to my HR representative about digging her fingers into her neck. If I were to do that, I might as well give her advice on her 401(k) and offer to look at her stock portfolio.

Margaret unlocked the door to her office and flicked on the fluorescent lights above us.

“Have a seat, won’t you?” she asked, gesturing to the seats in front of her desk.

I settled into one of the cushioned wingback chairs and leaned forward, bracing myself for whatever might lie ahead.

She shuffled some papers around her desk and clicked on her keyboard before finally turning her gaze to me. “You’re probably wondering what you are doing here.”

I nodded.

“Well, you see, there’s been some adjustments and—”

My pulse quickened, and I cut her off, “What do you mean, adjustments? Am I being laid off?”

I couldn’t lose this job. This was the last place I had seen her, where I’d held her hand. If I weren’t here, I wouldn’t be able to feel her with me, and I didn’t know how to function without her.

“Calm down, Jude. No one is getting laid off. You’re just switching departments.”

“What? To where?”

I’d been working in the emergency room since my first day as a CNA. It was exactly the type of place I needed to be. The ER was fast-paced and kept my mind occupied. It was also where they’d wheeled us in, battered and bruised from colliding head-on into a Jersey barrier after Megan had fallen asleep at the wheel. I’d been treated and discharged quickly, only sustaining a broken arm and a few bumps and bruises. Megan, though, had taken the majority of the impact, so her injuries had been far worse.

“You’re being transferred to cardiology.”

I inwardly groaned. All I could picture was old people with aging hearts and their bypass surgeries. My bedpan duties just went through the roof.

“Why? Is there a particular reason?” I wanted to know what I’d done to deserve this hell.

“We just think it would be good for you to do something different,” she answered with an encouraging smile.

She’d done this on purpose.

“I don’t want to be fixed, Margaret. I’m not your charity case,” I said through clenched teeth.

There had been a handful of others like her, but Margaret was persistent. She’d been the one to get me this job, knowing I was a broken, grieving man wandering these halls. She’d probably assumed the job would open me up and give me opportunities to heal and move on. She was wrong. Healing required the desire to do so. I didn’t want to heal, and I certainly didn’t want to move on. I hadn’t left my old life behind and taken a job where my fiancée died to soothe my soul. No, I came here each and every day to mourn the life I’d selfishly taken, and I would remain here to do exactly that—no matter what department Margaret stuck me in.

“I’m sorry, Jude,” she whispered. “You weren’t the only one transferred. Please don’t feel singled out.”

“When do I start?” I questioned, trying to calm the anger I felt rolling off me.

“Tonight. You can head over there now if you’d like,” she answered with a polite smile.

As she returned to her piles of paperwork, I rose from the chair and made my way out, but I was stopped when Margaret’s small voice cut through the silence.

“Oh, Jude?” she said. “Happy birthday.”

Every step I took toward the third floor felt more like a mile, creating an expanding distance from the cocoon I’d managed to build over the last three years. Like was probably too strong of a word, but I’d grown complacent in my simplicity. I’d adjusted to my new life and the way it was, and this sudden wrench that had been thrown into the mix was making my mind go haywire.