Shoshanna
Present day
I raceinto the scrub room to catch Perry as he exits the theatre. “Perry!”
He stills, slowly turning to fix his narrowed hazel-coloured eyes on me. His blond brows are tightly woven across his forehead. He is so handsome in an incredibly wholesome way, with his high cheekbones and perfectly smooth jawline. His blond hair, which is shorter on the sides than it is on top, creates a small styled crown. Not a single tattoo decorates his body, but he has lean muscles and an athletic physique created by daily runs down the coast. So why is my heart yearning for a different body to hold me?
“What the fuck happened in there, Shosh?” he bites out before he has time to calm himself, his eyes flickering around for witnesses. He never bothers to hide his anger at home. Never hesitates to tell me how I’ve messed up.
My heart thunders in my ears, my focus on something else. “Br-” I halt the word. “The patient. Is he okay?”
Perry tilts his head at me as though that isn’t a perfectly reasonable question to ask. “Yes. He’ll be fine. Let’s talk about why you couldn’t hack it in there, yeah? You freezing up like that is not good for you. Or us.”
I breathe out in a rush, letting the nerves and tension leave me in that one small action. He’s okay. That fucking lunatic is alive. Again. Nodding, I try not to let my lips curve into a smile at the thought of him. Of his constant antics. Of his ability to live this fast, hard, crazy existence because he has all these lives. I want to burst into laughter. Hysterical laughter. That is how he makes me feel.
The emptiness in my stomach grows.
We got to stop meeting like this, nutcase.
I nod, trying to appear in the present. “I know.”
His face tightens. “Why are you smiling? Now is not the time to be playing around.”
“I smile when I’m nervous, Perry!” I spit out, raising my hands to rub my cheeks, pleading silently with them to stop rising. But I can’t help feeling elated that he’s alive and still so beautiful to look at. That he is so close. That I could walk in that room and touch him.
My heart drops.
I shouldn’t see him, though. The thought saddens me, but it would be kinder, for him, to not see me again after what I did to us.
“I let you sleep in,” Perry says, pulling me away from my past demons. “I’m trying to support you here. Prove to everyone you can do this. But then you pull this crap. It is not just your career on the line. It is mine. I’m vouching for you.” Shaking his head slowly, he says, “You embarrassed me in there, Shoshy.” His mouth touches my ear, his breath hits me, chilling my spine. “Do you need a break?”
Clenching my teeth together, I lock out all thoughts of Bronson. Perry is who matters to me. I should be thinking of him. He loves me and my sister. Without him, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. Wouldn’t be a doctor. Wouldn’t have the safe, easy life I have now.
He straightens and scrutinises me, his eyes still soft on my face but not overly kind. It is a practised show of kindness, of tenderness, a patronising tilt to his lips. “Look, I’ll take care of this for you. I always do, don’t I? No one needs to know. Just go home. Have a nap. I’ll see you for dinner tonight.”
And with that, he turns and leaves me standing there like a scolded child. I remind myself that he is right. This is his career too. He’s sticking his neck out for me. And being a woman, I’m at a disadvantage in our field already. Mainly, that when a woman shows emotion in a field such as ours, shows anger or acts impulsively, it is seen as either hormonal or overly emotional. But when a man does it, it is always simply a show of passion.
Wandering back down the hall, I still feel like I’m in the twilight zone. I haven’t seen Bronson for. . . ten? No, eleven years. I have no idea what he would say if he sees me because the last words we shared. . .God. The very last conversation we hadkilledme.
My arms go around my stomach, just like they did that day in the park, supporting myself against the memories that want to rise. My throat tightens as I see the pain in his eyes. Hear the roar of anguish as it leaves him. Hear the distant growl of his bike as he leaves me.Oh God, he won’t want to see me.
Eleven years apart and not a single sign he ever looked for me. Never tried to drag me back like he would have done if he cared. Like he would have done moments before our last conversation.
“What if they don’t let us?” I ask.
He grins. “Then I’ll kill them.”
But he didn’t.
And that speaks volumes about how he feels about me.
Pull yourself together!
Lowering my hands to my sides, I breathe deeply through my nose, channelling calm, fighting the pain. I pretend this is just a normal day in the hospital and stride past the nurses’ desk, heading towards the changing rooms to remove my scrubs and grab my bag. I need to head home. Need to get away from here, even though I can feel myself being ripped down the middle. One half is desperate to leave. The other, desperate to go to him. . .
With that thought, I think about telling Perry. He has been my confidant. My partner in life. I should just tell him. . . Well, noteverything.Bronson’s presence in this hospital is palpable to me.
But the thought of telling Perry about Bronson makes my stomach gnaw at itself. In fact, both names bouncing around in my head, wrap me in guilt. They exist in very different worlds, the blending of which would be catastrophic. One is a world of responsibilities and commitments. The other. . . of intensity and madness and childish ignorance to the way the world really works.