Page 3 of Reckless
He doesn’t correct me. He just glares. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.
“For what you’ve done to me? I am indifferent to you. For what you’ve done to her? I hate you. I wouldn’t have touched you with a one-million-foot pole if I’d realized the type of man you really are. Fool me once, never again. That’s the new saying.”
With that, I tug my suitcase up and spin on my heel, flinging the door open so hard it smashes into the wall behind it. I hate how fired up I am. How out of control I feel. But I hold my chin up, press my shoulders down, and walk out of that house with all the placid, unaffected composure I can muster.
“Does that mean you’re leaving me?”
How can someone so educated be so stupid? I almost laugh. I keep walking, patting him on the shoulder like the dog he is as I pass by. “Use that fancy medical degree and figure it out for yourself.”
“You don’t even like her!” he yells in a whiny tone that scrapes down my neck like nails on a chalkboard. “You gonna run back to her and beg for forgiveness after what a royal cunt you’ve been to her all these years? Good luck with that. I’ll be here when you come crawling back.”
But I don’t dignify his jabs with a single glance back. Instead, I flip him the finger over my shoulder and take satisfaction in knowing he’s wrong.
That he’s not as smart as he thinks he is.
And I’m not either. I feel very small and very stupid right now.
Because I love my sister.
I just have a fucked-up way of showing it.
* * *
I hope I don’t die now that I’m taking some control of my life back.
I want to start fresh. And yet I’m terrified to do it at all.
Chestnut Springs General Hospital is only an hour away from the house I live in, so why does it feel like the longest drive of my life?
I started taking shifts here a few months ago, so I could make the drive with my eyes closed, but today it’s snowing hard enough that I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel.
I’m also still stewing over losing my cool.
Rob started that fight by saying he couldn't fathom why I’d want to work at this dingy hospital, and I wasn’t inclined to tell him the truth.
One, that working in a hospital where I’m not his wife and my mother’s daughter is a relief. I can practice medicine and take pride in my work without having to contend with all the whispers and pitying glances. Without that shit hanging over my head.
Because everyone knows, but no one talks about it, and that approach to life is wearing on my sanity. I know how everyone sees me. I’m not oblivious to it. They might not speak it, but I hear it loud and clear all the same.
A doctor who got her position at the hospital through family connections and marriage.
A woman who is unapproachable, cold, and unhappy.
A wife who is pathetic enough to ignore her husband’s betrayal.
And two, because I’ve never wanted to be around my sister more than I do now. When she was sick, I used to sneak into the hospital and check on her, read her chart so I knew how she was doing even though I was still only in university. And now? Now, I look at my little sister and all I see are the years I missed.
I see a woman who lived in misery to save me a little of my own.
It would seem we’re kindred that way.
She’s happy now, engaged to a man whose hair is far too long but who loves her in a way that I’ll never experience. But I’m also happy for her—god knows she deserves a little peace. She left her law degree and secure job at our father’s sports management firm in the rear-view mirror to run a gym and live on a picturesque little country bumpkin ranch.
I admire her.
But I have no idea how to mend the rift between us. So, I took a part-time position in the small town she’s living in, hoping I might run into her and fix things organically.
I have this recurring story in my head, one that crops up all the time. I must be trying to manifest it or some shit.
