“You got this?” I look up from the computer I’m standing in front of to see my boss leaning against the wall opposite of me. He’s changed out of his scrubs and white coat into jeans and a Polo. “I’m about to cut out.”

“Yes,” I confirm as I finish typing out the sentence I was writing before he interrupted me.

Interruptions are all I’ve gotten today. Between the nurses and an intern that’s steadily grating on my nerves, I’ll be good to make it home before Whitney gets in bed.

“You book our flight, hotel rooms, and rental car for the conference next month in Orlando?”

Before three weeks ago, I had been looking to get away—to spend time with Kylie, just the two of us. I’m presenting at the hospital she works at, but other than a few hours plus a dinner the night before, I had two full days to hang out and catch up with her. And two days to convince her to move if I’m not able to do it before going down there. And since I haven’t yet, I tabled the discussion because of everything that’s happened, but I haven’t forgotten. She’ll be moving from that apartment one way or another. I’m damn sure of it.

“It was done two months ago.” As soon as he asked me to accompany him and told me the details, I scheduled everything the next day with the exception of a hotel room for me. I’d planned on staying with Kylie.

He bobs his head, acknowledging what I’ve confirmed.

“I swear, I should have booked this trip to coincide with the conference next month but Marie . . .” He shakes his head. “She wanted to take the kids to Disney World for Thanksgiving. Start a family tradition she said.”

Even though he rolls his eyes at the thought, I know there is nothing he enjoys more than time with his wife and two kids. I’m beginning to understand why. I’ve always known time with family is the most important thing in life. It was taught to me early on. But until Whitney and the girls . . . I had never felt it. Now, there is not one thing I wouldn’t give up or not do to make sure they remain with me, safe and happy.

“Yeah, okay.” I exaggerate my belief in his statement. “Get out of here, would ya? I got this today and tomorrow. Roderick is on-call until I return Saturday.”

“Roger that.” He pushes off the wall. “Wife’s out front waiting. Flight’s in”—he flicks his wrist up to peer down at his watch—“less than two hours.”

“Later.”

He turns, walking toward the doors that lead out into the waiting room of the ER. My cell phone chimes with an incoming text, so I save everything I’m documenting and then sign off the computer.

I don’t like taking calls or answering messages anywhere close to patient rooms. It sets bad examples for the interns as well as nurses and other staff. I only do it in emergencies, and even then, if I can do it away from everyone else, I do.

Pulling my cell from the back pocket of my scrubs, I take a seat on the stool in front of another computer in the dictation room. It’s a message from my brother. I see it before I unlock my phone to reply.

Shawn: Are we really not going to GA?

I type a reply back to him, then sign onto this computer so I can finish up what I started before Gavin left.

Me: I’m not. You can do what you want.

Another message comes through, but I’m almost finished, so I take a minute to wrap-up my documentation inside the patient’s chart. When I’m done, I sign back off and pick up my phone from where it’s lying next to the keyboard.

Shawn: Asshole

I shake my head. I get it, I do. Shawn has always loved going to Georgia, to our parent’s vacation home, for Thanksgiving. It’s been a tradition since I was in High School and I’ve only not gone once, the first year I interned at the Medical Center in Jackson, Mississippi.

My parents used to take us on trips a couple of times a year to ride ATV’s at an off-road park. I loved it from that first trip we took when I was a teenager. There is nothing glamorous about it. It’s dirt, dust, and mud inside your nose and mouth. Exertion and sore muscles for days. But it’s fun. Shawn loves it more than I do. Our friends even started coming years ago too. Thursdays used to be reserved for just family, but my parents quickly welcomed all our friends, making most of them part of our small family.

I type another response that quickly turns into a full conversation, back and forth between us.

Me: Emersyn has to go to her dad’s Friday.

Shawn: Why?

Me: Shared custody

Shawn: That’s BS

Me: I agree, but it is what it is.

Shawn: That fuck shouldn’t be allowed around them.

Me: Don’t I know it.

Shawn: What’s Jacob doing to make it where he doesn’t see them anymore?

Me: We’ll talk Thursday if you’re at Mom and Dad’s.

Shawn: I’ll be there.

I’m not surprised. Shawn is a momma’s boy through and through. He’s not going to miss a holiday with our family. He comes off hard and dickish, and he is, but he values family the same way I do.

Until this moment, I never thought about it, but I see now he’ll make a great dad one day. He’s a lot like our dad.

“Hey, Shane?”

Standing, I place my cell phone back into my pocket as Roxanne steps into the narrow space with me.

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering if I could catch a ride home with you.” She smiles, hopeful. It makes my gut tighten.

“I guess.” I cock my head to the side, looking at her. “Something going on with your car?” She has a relatively new Honda Accord. Or so I think it’s fairly new, maybe a few years old.

“I dropped it off at the dealership for a service, but apparently, they couldn’t get to it today, so it’ll be tomorrow before I can pick it up.”

“Sure,” I tell her. “It’s no problem at all. Will you be ready to leave in about an hour and a half?”

I need to round on all the patients, make sure everything has been done that needs to be done since the next shift is about to come on.

“Yes.” She’s a little too eager, making me raise an eyebrow. “I just have one patient right now. Once I bring Dr. Monroe up to speed on her, I’ll be done.”

“Okay.” She bounces around, leaving me.

I don’t know why I have such a reservation. It’s not like we aren’t going to the same place.

* * *

“You okay, Shane?” Her soft, almost whisper of a voice penetrates my thoughts, making me cut my eyes off the road for a split second to glance over.

I haven’t said more than two words to Roxanne since we got into my SUV and left the hospital. My night went to shit, and the thing is, before Whitney came back it wouldn’t have fazed me. But here I sit, pissed off because it’s fifteen minutes till eleven at night and I haven’t seen Love or the girls in over twenty-four hours.

I’m torn. I’m torn in two.

I love my job. It wears on my heart, but I enjoy helping children. Making them well. It’s all I can imagine doing. But it’s going to keep me away from them longer than I want. Longer than I may be able to handle.

“I’m all right,” I finally tell her, pulling into the apartment complex. “You know how it is. You have plans, and like what happened tonight, they get squashed because you can’t leave.”

“Yeah, of course, but that’s what we signed up for.”

She’s got me there. I know one hundred percent she’s right. I chose this. I wanted it. But I also wanted Whitney and a family. I wanted that more than I wanted my next breath.

I thought I’d go to college, then medical school, and then Whitney and I would get married. And by the time I was settled into my career, we’d start a family. That was the plan. One that never saw the light of day. We never had a chance.

And now . . .

I let out a breath as I cut my wheel to turn into a parking spot in front of our building. I look up, seeing the window of my apartment—lights off.

I raise my arm, cutting off the ignition, but before I can pull the keys out, Roxanne places her warm palm on my forearm, running her heat down toward my wrist. I snatch my keys out and my arm out of her grasp. “What are you doing?”

“You’re obviously upset, Shane. I’m your friend. Tell me and let me help.” She closes her fingers into a fist, pulling away from me.

I give her a look that clearly says none of my other friends touch me the way she just did.

I get out of the vehicle without addressing it further. I’m done with today. I did the nice thing and gave her a lift. I didn’t ask for the other shit.

I’ve dealt with enough for one day. Two teenage overdose admits, a child abuse case, and now I got my intern trying to cross a line I want no part of like this is Grey’s Anatomy or some shit.

“Shane, wait,” she calls out, making me reluctantly stop. “Look, I didn’t mean . . .” She trails off, just looking at me with something resembling anger in her eyes. When I’m about to tell her to forget it, she grabs my arm and slams her lips into mine. I’m too shocked to pull away at first, but when I feel her tongue sweep across mine, I jump back, pushing her away in the process.

“What the fuck?” My anger erupts, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. “This stops!” I yell. “This stops now.”

“No!” She argues. “You have someone right in front of you that wants a chance, Shane. I know you. She doesn’t.” She points to my apartment without looking, indicating Whitney, and it only pisses me off more. “She doesn’t remember you. She has a family with another man. She’s married, Shane, or have you conveniently forgotten that?”

“That,” I point in the same direction she did. “Is none of your business. Whatever future she and I have or don’t have doesn’t concern you. But let’s get one thing clear. This”—I point between the two of us—“is not happening.”

“Because of her,” She floors.

“No.” I shake my head, my voice coming down. “Not because of her. Because I don’t feel that way about you. Not to mention it’s morally wrong. I’m your superior at work. It would have never happened, even if Whitney never showed back up.” I tip my head back, trying to pull in air to my lungs.

“What the hell does us working together have shit to do with anything. If anything, we have a lot more in common than you do with her.” She says, disgust evident in her voice.

My calm is weaning.

“Just go.” My head falls forward, and my eyes land on her so she can see how serious I am. “For fuck’s sake, leave this and be done.”

I don’t wait for her. I don’t know if she follows, and frankly, I hope she doesn’t.

Guilt from the memory of her kissing me seeps into me, and I need to get her taste off my tongue. The longer it’s there, the shittier I feel.

By the time I make it up to the third floor, anger is rolling off me. It’s a good thing Whit, and the girls will be asleep. I need a shower and to crash on the couch since they have my bed because Emersyn refuses to sleep in the “pee” bed now. Whitney did everything she could to clean it, and it’s probably clean enough, but even I can’t go in there and sleep, so I’ve been crashing on the couch for the last couple of nights.