As usual, I don’t leave on time, but I meet Nick ninety minutes later, and we head down the street to the bar. It’s busy because it’s eleven o’clock on a Friday night, but we manage to find a table in the back.
“Beer and shots?” he asks.
“Sure, I don’t have a fifteen-hour shift tomorrow,” I deadpan.
“Eh, just one round, you’ll be alright.” He waves me off, then orders.
“So, I have a suspicion that you wanted to talk about something.”
“Yeah, but before we do, let’s get some alcohol in your system.”
I chuckle at his honesty and clink my shot of vodka with his before we down them.
“That’s better.” He takes a swig of his beer next. “I wanna see how you’re doing.”
“I’m great.”
“Mentally…” he reiterates. “We’ve all suffered from the pandemic, and even though things have slowed down since the vaccination was released, I can tell how the past couple of years have affected you. I was actually glad you got those two weeks off. Even though we needed you, you needed the downtime more.”
“I agree,” I say with a nod. “It definitely helped me recharge.”
“You’re passionate and hardworking, and there’s no denying that. I highly value you as a doctor, but I also need to make sure my team is emotionally stable.”
“You think I’m not?”
“You are, but you can’t be a robot twenty-four seven. You get in, do your job, talk to your patients, and overwork yourself until you can’t see straight. That’s not healthy for anyone.”
“I like to stay busy, but if you’re saying I need to work less, then just say it.”
“You need to do what’s best for you, including getting help if you’re still suffering with some PTSD symptoms. Are you sleeping?”
“I’m a doctor in New York City, what do you think?”
“When you lie in bed, do you fall asleep right away?” he clarifies.
“I pass out fairly quickly, but I wake up three or four times usually.”
“From nightmares?”
Brushing a hand through my hair, I feel uncomfortable answering, but I can’t deny it. Nodding, I say, “Yeah and anxiety attacks, but when I was off, I had no trouble sleeping.” I don’t mention the cure was Kendall lying next to me almost every night or falling asleep with her in my arms.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see a therapist? You know I can pair you with one.”
I shrug, not immediately shutting down the idea but also not sure if that’s what I need right now. Kendall consumes my mind, so if I don’t stay busy, she’s all I think about. I’ve thought about going to her house, but I never have enough time to go between my back-to-back shifts.
“I’m not against it, but I dunno if that’d help,” I tell him honestly. “I’m kinda going through some other shit.”
He gives me a weary look, then smirks. “What’s her name?”
I’m impressed by how quick he was able to guess. “Kendall.”
“Breakup?”
“It’s complicated…we weren’t officially together, but at the same time, we were. But then our time came to an end, and before I could ask if she wanted more, I fucked it up. Now she won’t talk to me.”
“And you working nonstop isn’t helping, which makes my case stronger,” he taunts. “Effective immediately, two days off per week and only twelve-hour shifts. No exceptions.”
“Nick…”
“I’ll make sure we have enough staff to cover it. Don’t make the same mistakes I did at your age or you’ll become a lonely workaholic like me.”
I furrow my brows and take a drink of my beer. “What happened?”
“I had a Kendall. Her name is Maggie, and I was head over heels in love with her. We went to medical school together and spent every waking hour studying. Our internships took us to opposite sides of the country. She left before I could confess my true feelings. A year later, I was interviewing for residencies, and the hospital she was at had an opening. I thought it was perfect. We would be back in the same city, and I’d tell her how I felt.”
“And?” I ask, knowing his story doesn’t end well.
“She got engaged.” His eyes lower, and he frowns. “Maggie was so happy, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth. I decided not to move and stayed here.”
“Ouch.” I see the pain in his expression. “So she never knew?”
“Deep down, I think she did. But I took too damn long to tell her, so she moved on.”
“Did you stay in contact?”
“We did because she’s still one of my best friends. She moved to an LA suburb after they got married, and she’s now pregnant with baby number three,” he tells me. “So if this Kendall is the one, you better not let her go because someone will sweep her off her feet, and you’ll be too late. Then you’ll be like me and kick yourself for the next ten years.”