Page 31 of The Trauma Response
“Every day? I do work forty-eight hour shifts, you know. You might have to read something else while I’m on shift.”
“Ugh, I guess I can. So tell me about your relationships. Anyone in particular stand out?”
I choke on my chicken and have to take a sip of water to get it down. I was not expecting our conversation to shift to past romances. “Uh, I mean I guess I had a few girlfriends but nothing that stuck obviously. Had my heart broken a time or two. Never flipped a car over a woman breaking up with me, though.”
She throws a wonton at me. “I didnotroll my car because of a man. It was a deer.”
I grin and eat the wonton. “I know, I know. Too soon to joke about the accident?”
“What doyouthink?” She sighs again and takes a small bite. “I don’t even know what the car looked like. Everything happened so fast, and after you got me into the ambulance, I couldn’t see anything else.”
I swallow hard and push my plate aside. I know what her car looked like. It’s amazing she survived with the injuries she has. The only other time I’ve seen a car so smashed, the occupants all died on impact. Visions of little faces in the back seat fill my mind and my eyes sting. Those are always the hardest calls, the ones where children are seriously injured or killed. They break my heart every single time. I cough to cover the fact that I’m about to shed tears. It isn’t like I worry I will somehow seem lessmanly to her. To the contrary. I don’t wantherto be upset for me.
“Cai?” Whits’ gentle touch brings me back to reality.
“It was pretty bad, Whits. I’ve seen people die in much less.”
With a few blinks, she manages to clear her eyes of unshed tears. “I guess I should be thankful I’m alive. I told Jax…” Her words trail off, but I know what she told him. It’s the reason I showed up at her place. “I told him I wished I’d died, that it would have been better. I was so stupid to say that to him.”
I pull my phone from my pocket and open the photos app. Captain sent me a few photos from the scene to add to my report, the one I wrote while waiting for word that she would be okay. “I’m going to show these to you so you know just how close you were, Whits, but I need you to remember something. God saved you because he has big plans for you, and whether it’s working for this account Christian’s giving you or something else, I need you to know that I willalwayssupport your dreams. I’m in your corner as much now as I was when we were kids, and I never want us to be so far apart from each other again.”
I hand her my phone with the image of her car front and center.
She stares down at it as if it’s a foreign object, but I understand. There is nothing recognizable as a car in that heap of metal and glass. Her eyes drift from the screen to meet mine. Everything, every emotion, swirls in them. “I don’t want to be apart from you again either.” Her gaze lowers to the photo again, solidifying that she very easilycouldhave died that night. But she didn’t. I thank God for giving her more time, and pray that I’m written in her future as deeply as my heart begs to be.
Chapter fifteen
My mind wanders, mostly toward Cai and the events of the past couple of weeks, while I wait in line to order my coffee. My favorite café is a short walk from my house and it’s a beautiful morning, perfect for stepping out on my own. My plan is to sit down and work through the copious paperwork Christian’s office sent me for my new position. I’m also prepping myself for a big learning curve, but he assured me that I’ll have several seasoned employees working with me to make sure I get off on the right foot.
“Dr. Whitmore?” A feminine voice calls from behind me. I turn and find a former patient of mine standing in line behind me.
“Heather, how are you?” I’m surprised to see her so mobile after her injury. She took a spill off a fifteen foot ladder while trying to clean the gutters. When she landed, she impaled herself with a decorative flag post.
“Wonderful, all thanks to you. I heard you’re not working at the hospital any longer? I was so sad to have a new doctor at my last evaluation. I hate that you had to leave, but I’m in great hands. Dr. Rosen has been amazing.”
Ah, yes. Dr. Rosen, also known as the woman who has, on more than one occasion, tried to steal my patients and take credit for their care. Of course, she gets all of my patients now. She probably took mywhole jobat this point.
I bite down the frustration bubbling in my gut and smile. “I had an accident of my own unfortunately, but am glad to hear that you’re doing so well.”
“It’s been a long road to recovery, but you got me off to a great start. I can never thank you enough for all of your hard work.” She shakes her head, probably trying to wipe the memory of that day away. “Thanks to you, my kids still have a mother. The new doctor is great, but she can’t replace you in my heart.”
Now I’m biting back tears. This is what I’ll miss the most. Not the accolades or praise, but the connection I make with each patient. Working with Heather’s family these past few months brought me joy. I was able to help her in her darkest hour, and in turn, I felt as if I was really making a difference in the world. I was doing what God had intended I do with my life.
We chat for a few minutes and she heads out while I wander to a window booth with my coffee. Obviously, my patients had to be turned over to someone. The rational part of me knows Dr. Rosen is a great doctor and will monitor their progress as well as I would, but I can’t stop the sting from taking over. Everything I worked so hard for, all gone in the time it takes a deer to make a dumb decision, a swerve of the wheel too far, and bam. Over.
The rain drizzles down the large café windows as more dark clouds roll in. I should be grateful, thankful to be alive. And Iam,yet there’s still a quiet but nagging voice in my head that says I will never be good enough at anything else I attempt. I’ll never reach the top of my field, and if by some chance I do, will it be snatched away from me? On the flip side, I’ve been given a job I’m not remotely qualified to fill, will be the lead over peoplefar more experienced than I am, and all because Christian Price is friends with Cai. I don’t even deserve this job. It’s apityjob.
Sweet Cai. The guy who has always gone to the ends of the earth for me, even when I never asked him to. He’s always been as pro-Whitmore siblings as anyone can be, and what did it get him? We basically ditched him when college got too busy. Shame on us, Jackson and me, for letting his precious friendship slip away.
And shame on me for taking complete advantage of his kindness now, after ten years of zero contact. What am I doing? Am I using Cai to avoid my pain? To distract myself from this grief that keeps springing up from inside when I least expect it? I’m not usually easy to rattle, almost always the upbeat and happy-go-lucky person in any group, but lately every word out of my loved ones’ mouths grates at my nerves and puts me on edge.
It isn’t their fault.
It’s mine, this accident’s.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to work through my feelings, but they all come in a barrage too complicated to sort through in a noisy café. Through it all, though, one worry screams at me over the rest.
I’m using him.
