* * *
“Someone got laid,” Jocelyn says, glancing me over in the breakroom.
I fill my water bottle and take a swig.
How the hell can she tell? “Is it that obvious?” I laugh nervously. I’m not ready for her assault of twenty questions.
“Well, you are married, and since you didn’t go on a honeymoon, I just assumed you’re christening every surface in your new abode. Are you two living together at his place or yours?” she asks.
Jocelyn isn’t the least bit subtle with her questions, but at least she isn’t asking me in front of the patients. Especially since our patients are kids, that would be highly inappropriate.
“His place, uptown,” I say, not giving anything further away. He lives a little more than just ‘uptown.’ He’s outside of the city in a residential area that is still heavily congested, more so than the typical suburbs. It’s barely outside of the city.
“You are so cryptic,” Jocelyn says and grabs a soda from the fridge. She pops the drink open and pulls the tab right off without a second thought. “He is handsome. You sure know how to pick the hotties.” She pauses and takes a sip of her drink.
“Hotties?” I repeat.
“Yes,” she says, staring at me like I’m an idiot.
“I’m not sure what you mean by hotties, as in plural.” I fold my arms across my chest defensively. I haven’t slept with anyone since that night when Ashton was conceived. Well, until last night.
“You didn’t tell me you were dating, let alone serious with anyone. What is up with that?” Jocelyn stares me down, waiting for an explanation.
I don’t have one. Not one that I intend to give her.
I’m trying to protect her by keeping her as far away from Aurielo and his men. Especially after what happened last night at his home up north. Ashton could have been shot, or worse, killed.
“It’s complicated,” I say and shuffle my feet, trying to avoid her intense gaze.
It doesn’t work.
Jocelyn steps closer.
“Come on, talk to me. We’re practically family,” Jocelyn says.
“I can’t. I’m trying to protect you.” That’s the last word I intend to have about Aurielo, the marriage, and my sex life with her. It’s all off the table. Anything else is fair game: the weather, Ashton, even my sister’s love life I’ll gossip about. But not the mafia or how I ended up in this situation.
“You know I’m going to get it out of you,” Jocelyn says. She takes a swig of her cold soda, the outside perspiring from the air. I feel like that can, under her scrutiny and sweating immensely.
Except I’m not physically sweating.
But emotionally, I’m a wreck. I bite down on my bottom lip to subdue the urge to run. Where would I go? How far would I get?
It’d be easier to bolt out of the breakroom and away from Jocelyn, which is what I do. “I have to get back to work,” I say and skirt past her.
Her eyes narrow as she watches me leave the room.
She’s going to nag the crap out of me until I give her some juicy details. That’s just how Jocelyn is with things. Maybe if I fed her little bits of the truth, just enough of a taste to make her leave me alone, that would suffice.
Truthfully, though, I want someone to confide in about what I’m going through. Ivy is the most practical person to reach out to, but I don’t want to endanger her life either. And after what happened yesterday, going it alone seems the safest option.
I head in to check on Molly Ryan. She’s a sweet kid. She just turned six last week.
“Nurse Karina!” Molly squeals, and her eyes light up. She cuddles her fluffy white unicorn with a rainbow mane. “Look what Mommy gave me for my birthday.”
Her excitement spills over like a river’s bank. Even with all that she’s endured, the kid is strong and one hell of a fighter.
“Have you given her a name?” I ask. I check Molly’s vitals and jot down the information on her chart.