Page 74 of Finding Mercy

I explain what happened to Michael and tell him I want her gone. It’s sexual harassment. He’s shocked but says he’ll need to do an investigation. I check on my patient, and he seems to be stabilizing, which I’m grateful for. His heart rate was dropping rapidly. It’s still too low, but it’s rising. So, I need to wait a little longer to see if it returns to normal. I believe it will, but the waiting is killing me for more than one reason.

I go back to the on-call room and sit in silence.

Mercy could have any man that she wanted. I know I’m probably going to lose her. I am not an idiot; I know exactly what it looked like—the look on her face. Shit, I’ll never get it out of my head.

Finally, my patient’s heart rate is normal so that I can leave. I will get a call if it gets worse again, I head home. The entire way home, I attempt to figure out what I’m going to say to her to make this right. I did nothing wrong; I know that. That doesn’t make me feel better because I know Mercy thinks I had sex with her. I didn’t, I wouldn’t, but how do I make her believe it? I don’t have a fucking clue. I can’t lose her. My stomach churns thinking about it. I pull into my driveway, and I still don’t have a plan.

I walk in and go straight to the bedroom since she’s probably in bed. I see the most gut-wrenching sight I could have imagined and did imagine. An empty bed. My girl isn’t here, my chest hurts. She’s gone? What about Ivy? Did she take her and leave?

I blow out a deep breath.Relax, Liam. Maybe she’s in another room.I go to Ivy’s room; the door is closed. I open it quietly and breathe a sigh of relief when I see Ivy fast asleep in bed. I move to the first of several guest rooms. I open the door, and Mercy is lying in bed sobbing.

I was wrong before; this is the most gut-wrenching sight. I sit beside her on the bed and touch her shoulder, she flinches.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Baby girl, I didn’t do anything.”

“Get out, Liam.”

I rest my elbows on my knees, my face in my hands, she repeats herself, “Get out, Liam.”

“I can’t, Mercy.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

I feel the bed shift when she sits up.

“I can’t be without you. I can’t fucking sleep without you.”

Through her sobs, she says, “You should have considered that before you destroyed me.”

“I went into the room, took my shoes off and my shirt and climbed into bed. It had been a hard day, I was exhausted. I woke up when something hit me on my head. You were standing there, and she was beside me. I never fucking touched her, Mercy.”

“Just go.”

“Just go?”

I stand furious, “Did I ever mean a fucking thing to you?”

She glares at me, “You’re asking me that?”

“God damn it, Mercy. You’re pissing me off. I have never been anything but completely honest with you. I have always taken care of you and put your needs before my own. Tell yourself whatever the fuck you want to get out of this. But I’ve treated you like a fucking queen.”

I can’t stand another minute in a room with her, so I go to my bedroom. Not ours, apparently. Mine.

I get out of my scrubs, throw them in the washer, and climb into bed, alone. I guess I may as well get used to it. My mind is in overdrive. I’ve lost Mercy. I’m going to lose Ivy. My parents are dead. My son is in fucking prison. I’ve lost everything. A tear rolls down my cheek. What the fuck? I don’t cry, ever. I’m lying in my giant bed when my phone chimes.

Elle: Are you okay?

Me: Nope.

Elle: I’m sorry I was so rough on you. I know you. If you say you didn’t do anything with her, I believe you.

Me: She doesn’t. It’s over.

Elle: Giver her time.

Me: No. I told her exactly what happened, and she told me to get out.

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