Chapter 21

The majority of days in the hospital were long, but Lara could usually make the most of them.

For whatever reason, though, this day had been one of the worst she had ever had, and it seemed nothing could make it better.

It had been one hard knock after the other, kicking off with her car refusing to start. This had meant not only sitting through a commute on public transit but also being thirty minutes late for her shift.

Despite her spotless attendance record, the head nurse had made it a point to drag her over the coals, only delaying her further in her duties.

Even an emergency surgery with Dr. Lima couldn’t salvage Lara’s day. Though it was a trauma surgery, and despite Dr. Baumgartner’s general refusal to share the OR with Dr. Lima, the latter’s expertise was required, leaving the former unable to avoid it this time.

The patient had been young—a thirty-four-year-old mother of two.

Lara had always known her job would be difficult some days and that those difficult days would be some of the worst of her life. However, knowing it was inevitable didn’t lessen the sting or heartache when it arrived.

Trauma was a tough field—a lot of losses and Hail Marys. It ran the gamut of emotional responses, and today’s was wretched misery.

The patient had died on the table. Despite two brilliant surgeons giving their all, despite Lara and the other support staff in the room doing their best, they hadn’t been able to save her.

Maybe it had been her kind blue eyes or the soft way she had spoken to her children, but this one had hit Lara in a way that felt very personal.

Dr. Lima had pulled her aside as everyone had filed out of the OR, looking dejected and disappointed. “Good job, Hendry,” she had said, her tone gentler than Lara had ever heard it.

Though the compliment hadn’t sat well with her, Lara had responded with a flat, “Thank you, Doctor.”

Lara was usually good at holding it together until she was done for the day and in the comfort of her own home, but her eye had prickled the entire walk back to her station.

Only a short time later, she had barely managed to make it through the necessary conversations before needing to slip into a staff room to steal a moment for herself. Deep, shuddering breaths, shaky hands, and a tight chest did not make for confident caregivers.

The rest of the shift had not improved.

She had spilled coffee on herself and had to change into the spare scrubs in her locker, which would have been fine, except they were ill-fitting and kept riding up between her butt cheeks as she walked.

In the end, all of this—combined with a missed break—had her spiraling into a pit of negativity.

Lara had finished her rounds, dreading the commute home, when she saw Dr. Lima standing at the nurse’s station. Her feet stumbled, but she moved toward the station warily.

“Ah, there you are,” Dr. Lima said. “You’ll assist me from now on.” She spoke in her usual matter-of-fact way.

“Do you have another surgery coming up?” Lara asked, her mind unable to process much right now.

Dr. Lima nodded. “At Riverside.” When Lara didn’t respond, Dr. Lima gave her that raised brow that meant Lara had missed her cue to speak. “That means you’ll be at Riverside starting next week, Hendry.”

“Oh, right, yes. Of course. It’s just… what about Dr. Baumgartner? He won’t just sign off on my transfer,” Lara said, her head spinning.

The surgeon huffed out a dry laugh. “It’s a good thing he’s not in charge of nurses, then, isn’t it?”

Lara wasn’t sure what had happened between their surgery and now, but Dr. Lima handed her an official-looking document on hospital letterhead, signed by the KGH director.

Dr. Lima clearly had nothing left to say on the matter because she walked away without another word, leaving Lara standing alone with the letter in hand.

A letter that should have excited her but didn’t. Not today.

Ten minutes later, she was out the door, and with her car out of commission, grocery shopping was off the table.

So, takeout it was.

She hopped off the bus a couple of stops early to grab something cheap and easy—something that might clog her arteries but would heal her soul a bit.

After stepping out of the restaurant with her to-go container in a paper bag at her side, she felt her mood lighten at the thought of curling up on her couch with some yummy, greasy Mexican food.

However, she had barely gone a few feet before a big, heavy raindrop landed squarely on her nose. The heavens seemed to mock her as dark clouds descended, and Lara could only sigh and wonder which deity specifically was out to get her.

Her only answer was a loud clap of thunder, followed by a massive downpour.

No umbrella. No car. And no way she was paying another transit fare only to go a few blocks to her building—especially when she could be home by the time the next bus even arrived.

As she approached the main doors, she exhaled in relief and dug into her bag for her keys.

Only they weren’t there.

The rain came down in sheets, and her search became frantic. She cursed silently—and then out loud—when her continued efforts yielded no results. She shook her purse violently, hearing no jangle of keys and causing her takeout box to shift in its bag.

Closing her eyes, she counted to ten as a vivid memory surfaced: the sound of her keys and phone hitting the metal bottom of her locker when she had been scrambling for her clean scrubs.

Lara gave one last hard shake to her purse in pure frustration, and in keeping with the theme of her day, the repercussions were immediate.

Weakened by the downpour, the paper bag that housed her dinner gave way under the force of her outburst, spilling her food onto the ground. She watched in disbelieving horror as the burrito bowl hit the pavement and exploded all over the sidewalk.

With an infuriated snarl, she stepped over her dinner and sheltered herself as best she could under the tiny covering above the buzzer. She rang Travis first but then stopped after a few tries with no response.

She glared at the keypad and sighed, fairly certain Zavien was home. Whether or not he would help her was up for debate; they hadn’t spoken since the night of their kiss. In fact, Lara had gone out of her way to avoid seeing him—and the feelings that crept up when she did.

Deciding to make the awfulness of her day official, she swallowed her pride and buzzed his apartment.

After two rings, Zavien seemed to have picked up, but he didn’t say anything.

“Hello?” She stared at the intercom, unsure if he had answered. “Zavien? Zavien, it’s Lara. I’m locked out. Can you please—”

Static spilled out of the speaker, followed by a rustling sound, like someone rubbing their hand over the microphone.

~He’s messing with me.~ “Zavien, seriously, it’s pouring out here,” she said frantically. “I’m cold, hungry, and desperate. Please come open the door.”

No reply, and then the intercom fell silent. He had hung up on her.

“Zavien?” She buzzed him again but received no response. “Ugh!” she screamed, stomping her feet and splashing salsa onto her pants.

And that was the last straw. Her spirit was officially broken. Sure, she could call someone else in the building, but why bother? They would probably yell at her, considering the universe hated her today.

Relegating her fate to the mercy of the gods, she slumped against the wall and stared into the street. It took all of five seconds for her apathy to turn into self-pity, and all the bullshit of the day came crashing over her.

For the first time tonight, she was thankful for the heavy rainfall; it disguised the tears streaming down her face.

She wasn’t sure how long she had sat there, miserable and crying, wondering what she had done to deserve this, when light illuminated the sidewalk next to her. With the torrential rain spraying her mercilessly, she tilted her head up to see Zavien standing in the doorway.

Barely audible over the thunderclaps overhead, he said, “You look like shit.”