“You look awful.”

I glare at Wyatt over my notebook.

“Really? You do know that is about the worst thing that you can say to a woman?”

“Well, I’m not trying to be mean, but you do. Are you sure you should even be here?”

At this point in my life, I’m not sure of anything.

The last two weeks have been the very worst of my life. By far surpassing the first time that I caught Eric cheating, but only because now not only is my heart involved?

But Jackson has been asking nonstop about when we are going home.

And I still haven’t found a way to break it to him.

“Maybe you should just talk to him.”

He nods his head towards my phone, making me roll my eyes.

It’s taken literally everything that I have in me not to answer him when he calls. The first week, he called often, and I always sent him right to voicemail.

The following week, it became less and less, until the last few days?

Crickets.

“No. I’m sure he’s moved on by now anyhow.”

“You really think that?”

I simply shrug, before changing the subject.

“I’m really hoping that I get the ER.”

Noticing my weak attempt at the subject change, Wyatt just nods slowly.

“Yeah. I hope you do too. I really want to be with CPS.”

Our instructor enters the auditorium, causing our attention to shift.

On the bright side of things, school has been going really well.

My classes have all been coming pretty easily to me, which is damn essential, considering it’s hard as hell to let my mind focus on anything except my broken heart.

Having Jackson helps too since he keeps me busy and gives me yet another distraction to focus on.

Except for the times that he asks about Eric.

I haven’t found a way yet to describe to him what is happening. I just don’t have the heart to fully break his.

His entire little life has been completely disrupted in the last month.

We’ve already moved across the country, moved in with Eric, and then back out again, all within the matter of a few months.

The only consistency that he has right now, is I was able to keep the same babysitter that Eric and I had been using when I lived with him.

She’s expensive, and well out of my price range, but I’ve managed so far, skimping by on the little amount of money that I had saved while I was with Eric.

Turns out, Wyatt ended up coming in clutch for me, since aside from being a full-time student? He is also a full-time landlord.

He rented me a small studio apartment, not requiring a deposit or a first and last month’s rent.

It’s not the nicest place, but it’s in a good neighborhood and is totally safe.

It’s also very close to school, so I’m able to commute back and forth to campus on foot since I no longer have a car.

I used that Land Rover simply to get myself out of Eric’s house. The very next day after I left? I had it towed back to his driveway.

Take that, fucker.

He had called me at least fifty times that day, leaving me voicemail after voicemail telling me that it was my car, and he didn’t want it back.

But me?

I didn’t want to leave with a damn thing from him. No freaking way was I keeping that stupid car.

But, my apartment has been amazing, and Wyatt has given me exactly what I needed in order to be able to stay here and finish out this last year.

I figured that Eric had already paid for the year of schooling. It’s not like he would have been able to get his money back.

However, I do have full intention of repaying it to him once I finish and secure a job where I’m actually making enough to live.

I’m able to keep myself busy enough during the day so that my mind has something else to focus on besides Eric.

It only gets bad at night, when Jackson is finally in bed, and I am all alone, left with nothing else to distract me, except for my thoughts of him.

It’s equally bad when Jacks brings him up or mentions how much he misses him.

That pretty much guts me, right there.

But, from everything that I’ve learned in my studies, kids at his age are pretty damn resilient. And I’m hoping that given a little bit more time, Eric will be nothing more than a distant memory.

I’m banking on that.

At least for him...

Eric will never be a distant memory for me.

But I’m just praying that someday soon?

The thought of him doesn’t hurt as badly as it does right now.

I turn my attention towards my instructor, who is reading off where we have been assigned for our upcoming clinical rotations.

I listen intently for my name, praying for something to finally go my way.

And when she announces that I have landed ER and that Wyatt landed CPS?

We high five and I silently jump for joy.

Maybe, finally, something is going to go my way.

**

“THIS ONE’S SUICIDAL.” The officer pushes a couple of papers across the desk to me. “She was pulled over for drunk driving and then as soon as we were about to arrest her, she began making all of these statements.”

I try hard to contain my eyeroll, that seems to try to escape me at just about every turn here, during my clinical rotation.

I had imagined that being a social worker in the emergency department would be super rewarding, and almost glamorous.

Sadly, I was wrong.

There are a few cases sprinkled into the shit show that seems to be ER life, a few true psychiatric people who desperately need some help.

But the majority of the people that I see are all behavioral issues. Kids who don’t get their way so instead of using coping mechanisms, they rage at their parents and then try to make them feel guilty for not giving into them by threatening suicide.

The drunks who get so intoxicated that they do things that on a normal day, they never would.

Or cases like this one, where someone gets in trouble with the law and uses suicidal statements as a get out of jail free card.

These are the ones that annoy me the very most.

“Ok.” I nod at the officer. “Anything specific that I should know about?”

He just shakes his head. “Nope. She’s free to go when you’re done with her, and once she’s sober. I’m not taking her to jail tonight or anything. She’s got her ticket, and it says right on it when she needs to appear.”

“Ok.” I grab the case file and toss it into the stack, not even bothering to look at her name or information.

“I can’t talk to her until she’s sober anyhow, at least not to do her evaluation. So, she’ll be here for a while anyway.”

He nods down at me, before leaving, and I turn my attention back to my case load.

So far, I’m learning a lot, and if I’m being honest?

I’m learning that this is definitely not the environment that I would be interested in working in once I graduate.

Too much hustle and bustle, way too big of a caseload for a social worker to ever feel like they are doing any good for the world, and way too many people that abuse the system.

But, at least, Wyatt is loving CPS and has totally found his fit.

I may have to jump ship for my final semester.

The night goes by pretty quickly. I only have a few hours left in my shift, but of course, I still have a stack of patients left to see.

The other bad part about ER?

You never get out on time.

“Avery?” I glance up and see one of the nurses, Jenny, standing in front of me.

“Hey. What’s up?” I stop my work and listen intently.

“The woman that the police brought in? She’s finally sober. I just wanted to let you know. She seems pretty anxious to get out of here.”

“Ok. I’ll check in with her soon.”

Jenny walks off, and I wrap up my current patient, before glancing up at the clock and sighing.

I shoot my sitter a text letting her know that I will be late, yet again, before trudging down the hallway to see my final patient for the night.

And nothing could have prepared me for what I would find.

**

THE STUNNING WOMAN that I remember looks far different than she did on our first encounter. At least, from my view in the dark room, only lit from the hallway outside.

Princess Mara couldn’t handle to have the light flipped on.

Insert eyeroll.

I’m feeling a little bit badly that I’m actually happy that she looks like shit...even in the dark I can see her mascara stained cheeks and crazy hair.

I mean, I’m supposed to be the one here, helping her.

Her eyes are red and puffy from crying, but as she glances up at me, recognition not setting in.

“You must be the social worker.”

“I’m a social work student, yes.”

“Great.” She rolls her eyes, before throwing herself against the bed.

“Does that mean I still have to wait for someone besides you to set me free?”

“No.” I pull a chair up to her bedside before pulling out my pen.

“We can chat, and I’ll make the decision as to what happens.”

“Ok.”

“So, you are Mara Jamison?”

She nods, before closing her eyes and leaning back against the bed.

“So, tell me a little bit about what happened tonight to bring you in here.”

She pulls at her hands, before sighing, and beginning her story.

“I was out, drinking with my girlfriends. On my way home, I was pulled over and brought in here.”

“You were brought in here because you were making statements to the police about wanting to hurt yourself. Is that true?”

“I didn’t want to go to jail.” She wails, as a few crocodile tears run down her cheeks. “I kept telling the officer who my dad was, but he didn’t even care!”

“Drinking and driving is against the law, for everyone. Regardless of who your father is.” I tell her, fighting my eyeroll.

She wails again, making me inwardly cringe.

“Do you drink often?”

“Lately.” She mutters, before opening up her eyes and staring at me. “I’m going through a rough patch.”

“Tell me about this rough patch.”

“Well, for starters, everyone hates me.”

Including me...I think, but of course, I am in professional mode. So, I keep my comment to myself.

“And why is that?”

“It’s a really long story.”

“I have a long time to listen.”

Lies.

I definitely do not have a long time to listen, but aside from having to do my job, curiosity also killed the cat...

And, of course, I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t intrigued to hear about how many other people also hate the woman.

I’ve basically already decided that she will be able to go home when we’re done here. I mean, she’s definitely not suicidal, she just threw a temper tantrum to avoid going to jail.

Oh, how I wish that I could still send her stupid ass to jail...

She sighs loudly.

“Well, there’s this guy.”

I brace myself to hear her begin to talk about the man that I love. And I swear to god, it takes everything that I have to continue to sit here and listen when I know exactly where this is heading.

“He’s like, the guy, you know?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I love him. I’ve always loved him. And he has always treated me like a second option.”

Inwardly, I grin. But I keep my face straight on the outside.

“That has to be tough.”

“Yeah. I mean, for real. I could have anybody. He should be grateful that I even want him. Yet he doesn’t seem to care.”

I sit silently, waiting for her to continue. At this point, I’m not even writing anything down. I’m just listening, waiting to hear what all she has to say.

“So, he met someone. And he actually had the nerve to try to pick her over me.”

She rolls her eyes, and I grimace.

“I mean, you should have seen her. She isn’t even that pretty...and add into all of that? She even had a kid! I mean, seriously. What kind of guy passes up someone like me for some plain jane single mom? Do you know that she was actually his housekeeper?”

Disgust drips off her voice as she shakes her head.

Her eyes are still closed, as she leans her head back against the pillow.

“So, I tried to come onto him. I literally threw myself at the man, and he turned me down. Like, I literally stripped down to nothing, and he still didn’t want me. In fact? He actually couldn’t get away from me fast enough. And I know that maybe right now I don’t look my best? But I am hot. Way too hot to be turned down like that.”

My blood freezes in my veins as I stare at her, my mouth completely open wide. So wide, in fact, that it takes me a full minute just to shut it so that I can form a decent thought.

“So...what happened after he ran away?”

She sits upright on the bed and flails her arms.

“Well, now he hates me! Everyone hates me over it, because they all think that I tried to set him up. He thinks that too! He won’t even talk to me, and trust me, I’ve tried. All he wants to do is sit around and feel sorry for himself over her! The help! I love him, I want to be with him! And you know what? He doesn’t even care.”

I stand abruptly, before flipping on the lights. She screeches and narrows her eyes, before finally focusing on me.

“Why did you do that? I told you, I wanted the lights...” her voice trails off as recognition sets in.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, fuck is right.” I slam the door shut before leveling my eyes on hers.

“So, what you’re saying is, Eric turned you down.”

“I’m not going to go over this again. I had no idea that it was you sitting here. In fact, I think that you should have let me know...”

“I’m not just the help. I never was just the help.”

I take another step towards her, damn near spitting my words.

“Eric and I were high school sweethearts. Did you know that?”

The look on her face tells me that she in fact, had no knowledge of this.

“He gave me that job, because he knew that it was the only way that I would even let him near me, because even after all of this time? He never stopped loving me.”

“And while you had me believing that I could never compete with women like you, in all reality, you were never any competition for me. Because sure, maybe Eric fucked you here and there, but that’s all that you were ever going to be to him. You could have never won his heart, because he didn’t have it to give. Because even after six years? It still belonged to me.”

“Well, then sounds like you fucked up.” She narrows her gaze at me before crossing her arms across her chest. “And legally, I don’t have to say another fucking thing to you. You tricked me. I’m pretty sure you broke a few laws tonight. And I’m going to make sure that you...”

“Do whatever you want.” I mutter, before flipping her lights back off. “But you’re not free to go yet.”

I open the door and storm out. I find Lucy, the social worker who I have been working with. I quickly fill out Mara’s paperwork before sliding it across the desk to her.

“I started her eval. She’s nuts.” I tell her, hiding my smirk. “She kept making suicidal statements and then tried to pretend like she knew me. I’ve never seen the girl before in my life.”

“Oh, lord.” Lucy murmurs, before taking her chart. “You think she needs to go inpatient?”

“Definitely.” I nod. “She seems like she needs some help, for sure. I hate to dump it on you, but, are you ok if I go?”

“Yeah, sure. Get out of here.” She smiles at me, before taking the chart. “I’m actually just going to leave it for third shift anyway.”

“Perfect.” I collect my things before booking it towards the door.

I send another text to my sitter, asking her if she can stay even later, before calling a cab and asking him to hightail it across the city.

**