Beautifully Awake(90)

I tried to ignore the chatter, but it was futile. By the second week, even sweet Kate felt compelled to give me a daily report. I’m not sure if it made me feel better or worse. It seemed Chase volleyed between Dr. Intensity and Dr. Asshole these days.

Kate sat down next to me while I worked on some discharge paperwork. “Lili, seriously, what’s his problem?”

“Who?” I knew full well who she was talking about.

“Chase, that’s who. He can be a moody turd, hmm?”



Did she just say turd? The girl seriously needed to learn to curse.

“Turd, Kate? Do me a favor, don’t ever use that word again.”

“What’s wrong with turd?”

Seriously?

“Forget it. So what happened?”

“For the past two weeks, Guy, Jackson and I have been working like slaves. I get Chase wanting his own personal team, I do. Actually that’s part of what makes him a better surgeon than the rest. But you think he would give us a little break. Not for nothing, but we’re still making up for the cases he missed the week he was away, on top of being overbooked.” I felt guilty. Kate looked exhausted and I was the reason Chase missed that week. Now my friends were paying for it. “Today he made an appearance in recovery and freaked over the way Guy put the dressing on. Lil, I mean freaked. Then he yelled at me because I didn’t fix it.”

“You should have told him to fix it himself if he had a problem.” Maybe turd was appropriate. “Anyway, when did he start letting anyone else put the dressing on? He’s anal about that stuff.”

“Oh, since he busted his hand this week. He’s only been scrubbing for the crazy difficult parts of his cases. Otherwise, Guy and Jackson have been doing everything.”

All I heard was busted his hand. My stomach plummeted.

“What happened to his hand?” I tried sounding nonchalant. What the hell is he doing?

“I think he said he tripped running or something. His left hand is still really swollen, and he got a nasty gash by his ear.”

Running my ass.

He was fighting, fighting without any gear. Hurting himself and risking his career. I was sick. It was so much more than blowing off steam. Something was eating at him. Why wouldn’t he just tell me?

I made up some stupid excuse why I had to run, again. I was getting good at that. I didn’t want to hurt Kate’s feelings, but I was crawling out of my skin thinking about Chase’s self-destructive behavior. I couldn’t sit still a second longer. And it wasn’t really a lie; I had full intentions of going home to get my sneakers. I needed a few miles to clear my head.

But before I left, Kate said, “Just so you know, Lil, the new case manager—he kicked her out of his OR. Guy made it sound like she isn’t allowed in a mile radius.”



Shit. Now his patients are suffering because of me, too.

Seven miles later, my shins felt like rubber and my ears throbbed from blasting my iPod. Nothing like my favorite Pandora station to make you want to slit your wrists when your heart was already in the process of shattering. Thanks, Jason Mraz.

I felt sick. Sick over ditching work early, sick over finding out Chase’s awake cases were going uncovered now. Sick over missing Chase, sick over how fucked up he was, sick over the fact I was completely in love with him and had no idea if we could ever be together again.

I was almost home when my phone rang.

“Hi Dad! Everything okay?”

“Does something have to be wrong to call my babydoll?”

“No, but you always call on Saturdays.”

“That’s because you usually check in a few times during the week. Don’t want you to think the old man is being a nag.”

Not possible.

“You’re never a nag, Dad. I’m sorry I haven’t called all week, it’s been a little crazy.”

That was a lie. Truth was I knew my dad would ask about Chase and I didn’t know what to say. Dad was still so upset and worrying over everything that went down with the trial. He hated that he couldn’t protect me, then or now. One of the worst nights of my life after the rape was overhearing my dad in his room crying, telling Sharon that he was a failure. That a father’s one job in this world was to protect his child, and he couldn’t do that for me. He couldn’t erase the rape or the trauma of losing a baby conceived in brutality. That was the night I called Sierra and asked if I could spend a little time at her parents’ place in the Cape. That was the night I told her I’d move to Philly. My dad and I both needed a fresh start.

Unfortunately, I knew he felt like a traitor for not leaving Wrangel, even though he couldn’t afford to. He might have been relieved that I was able to get away, but he needed his pension and only had a few years left before he could collect.