Page 3 of Keeping You

I’m pulled out of my thoughts as my flight is called, and I grab my bag and start boarding. I make my way down the aisle of the plane as people load their bags in the overhead bins. I slide into my seat and pull out my headphones, opening my go-to playlist and setting it on smart shuffle. As I sit there watching the clouds, “This I Promise You” by NSYNC comes on, and I really listen to the lyrics. For some reason, this song is only solidifying my resolve to make this marriage work.

After the plane touches down in Vancouver and I drudge through customs, I find Caleb outside in his truck.

“Thanks for picking me up, man. I hope I didn’t interrupt your family plans,” I say, running my hand through my hair.

Caleb doesn’t say anything, and when I look over at him, his eyes are homed in on my wedding ring. Fuck.

“Looks like you had some fun in Vegas,” he says.

“You could say that.”

We continue to sit in the pickup lane as Caleb stares at me like he’s willing me to speak more. I’m not usually one to be tight-lipped, but I don’t want to tell anyone what happened until I’ve had a chance to talk to Hannah. This impacts both of us, andthe last thing I want to do is involve our friends before the two of us know what’s going on.

An airport attendant finally comes up and tells Caleb he’s got to get moving, so he pulls out into traffic.

“So, did she fly home with you?” he asks.

“No, she’s still in Vegas.”

I can hear the gears turning in Caleb’s head.

“Will she be flying here?”

“Eventually.”

It’s the truth, Hannah will eventually be flying home. She has her place, her job, and her friends here. As much as I know she’s looking for an escape plan from this marriage, I doubt she’d run away. She’s too determined and strong to do that.

“Eventually, that’s all you’re going to say about when your wife is coming here? Or should I be asking when you’re going to her?”

I grip the back of my neck, giving it a couple of squeezes. “She’ll be coming here. I just don’t know when yet.”

Caleb side eyes me, and we make the remainder of the drive to my place in silence.

When he pulls up outside my building, I jump out as quickly as I can and say, “Thanks for the ride, man, I appreciate it. I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone about me getting married. I’d like to figure it out before I say anything.”

He stares at me before subtly nodding. I grab my bag and make my way inside. I unlock the front door of my apartment and drop my bag on the floor, heading to the couch and grabbing my laptop and work on putting together a plan.

My alarm wakes me a few hours later. I fell asleep while working and am still on the couch. I change into my scrubs and head to the hospital. I’ve always enjoyed the quick pace that comes with working in the emergency room. I was eighteen when I decided I wanted to go into medicine, but it was during my residency rotation that I settled on emergency medicine. The fast pace and being the first one to step into action when a patient comes into the hospital needing help makes my adrenaline pump.

After stashing my bag and grabbing my stethoscope, I make my way onto the floor for patient handover. Dr. Kaper is at the nurses’ station filling out patient charts when I join her. She fills me in about the man in bay two experiencing symptoms of a heart attack and all the tests that have been ordered, the stitches that need to be done on the kid in bay three who took a hockey stick to the mouth during a game of road hockey, and the man in bay four complaining of stomach pain who is just waiting for some test results. Once she’s done, I review all the charts myself to make sure I don’t miss anything and go to join the boy who needs stitches.

I pull the curtain aside and step into the little room. The mom is sitting in the chair on her phone while the boy lies in the bed playing a game on his.

“Okay, Tucker, I’m Dr. Maxwell. Why don’t you let me have a look at that cut,” I say, pulling over a rolling stool to sit in front of him.

The cut isn’t that big, but it does need a couple of stitches. I leave the room and grab the necessary supplies and rolling tray to set up. The kid is a trooper as I inject the numbing agent and get to work on the stitches. It only takes three to get him closed up.

“Okay, so you want to keep those as dry as possible, and then in five days you can go see your family doctor and have themremoved. Try and avoid playing with them. A nurse will be in shortly to bring you your discharge papers.”

“Thank you, Dr. Maxwell,” the mom says, and I nod before stepping out and completing some information on the patient’s chart.

Samantha, one of the nurses, leans on the counter in front of me. I feel her eyes on me as I type my final notes. Looking up, my eyes are met with her breasts as she’s pulled her scrub top down and is using her arms to press her breasts together. A few years ago, that would have gotten my attention and I might have asked if she wanted to meet me in an on-call room, or maybe an unused office, during her break, but now all it does is have me shaking my head.

Leaning back in my chair, I look up and meet Samantha’s wanton gaze with a flat one of my own.

“Is there something you need, Samantha?”

Grasping my hands in front of me, I watch as her eyes track the movement and widen slightly. I look down quickly and realize I’m still wearing my wedding ring. When I look back at her, her eyes are stuck there, a look of deep concentration on her face. I clear my throat, hoping to pull her out of her trance.

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