Page 1 of Reckless
1
Winter
“Ican’t fathom why you feel the need to go work at that dingy little hospital in the country.”
I used to think Rob was a nice guy.
Now, I know better.
“Well, Robert,” I drawl, using his full name to piss him off as I shove a final sweater into my overfull suitcase. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there are humans—real live ones—who live in the country who are also in need of medical attention.”
I can’t figure out why I’m packing so much for a single shift. When I’m in Chestnut Springs, I live in scrubs in the ER and in leggings in my hotel room at night.
“Thanks for clarifying, Winter.” There’s a biting tone to his voice that might make some people flinch. But not me. A dark part of me takes immense pride in the fact I know exactly how to piss off my husband. My lips twitch as I struggle to contain my satisfied smile.
“But why that hospital? Why Chestnut Springs? You’re constantly taking off out there and you don’t even tell me you’re leaving. Come to think of it”—he scrubs at his chin in a dramatic fashion while leaning up against the door frame of my bedroom—“you never even considered my opinion on whether I would want my wife taking this job. This isn’t a smart career move for you at all.”
Every time he whines like a child, I find myself wondering what it is about him I ever found attractive.
I’m not sure when the dimple on his chin became repulsive to me. Only that it is. The way he parts his hair to the side with a little swoop that doesn’t even move when it’s windy used to make him appear suave and put together to me.
Now it looks fake.
Like so much of my life with him has been.
I’m fairly certain the only reason he styles it that way is because he’s too vain to admit he’s balding.
And nothing makes a man’s masculinity shrivel up and die for me quite like complaining about a woman exercising her professional independence. He might as well stomp his foot and storm out like a tiny chauvinist toddler.
I reach for the zipper and force it together against the bulging contents of my suitcase. “It’s funny,” I start, ensuring that I keep my tone cool and even. “It’s almost like . . . you are the very last person I would ever consult about my life.”
With a huff of air, I finally slide the zipper into place and stare down at the hard-shell case, propping my hands on my hips and letting a satisfied smile touch my lips.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Winter?”
The way he adds my name to the end of every sentence feels like he’s trying to scold me.
Joke’s on him. I won’t be scolded.
He’s blissfully unaware of what it takes to navigate the medical system as a young female doctor. If I let men as weak as Rob steamroll me on the regular, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
And this career is the only thing I’ve ever had that’s mine. So, he can fuck all the way off.
Flipping one hand over, I gaze down at my neglected nails, trying to look bored by him. I’m wondering if I can find a good place for a manicure in Chestnut Springs when I reply, “Don’t play stupid. It pairs so poorly with whining.”
I can’t help but ask myself why I’m still married. I know why I thought I was sticking it out. But now? Now, I just need to buck up and get it done. I glance back down at my suitcase, packed like I’m leaving for a long ass time, and wonder if my subconscious knows something I don’t.
Maybe that bitch is putting her foot down and breaking me out once and for all.
I’m not averse.
“Watch your fucking tone with me.”
My eyes narrow on my cuticles as I struggle to bite down the rage bubbling inside me. Hot molten lava simmering below the cool surface, just waiting to erupt all over the place.
But I’ve kept that at bay for years now. I will not let Doctor Rob Valentine be the one to make me erupt.
He’s not worth the energy.
