hint of sun peeked through her window, she found herself wide awake.
Every time she’d closed her eyes, her breathing would become ridiculously erratic, her heart nearing stroke level.
“He’s not all that,” she said while she lay there until the combination of the comforter and her hot breath turned her bed into a sauna and she felt as if she’d suffocate.
“Damn him.” She threw the covers back.
There was no way she could face him. She’d never be able to unsee all of... that. She’d never be able to look at a Calvin Klein ad and not have some kind of visceral experience. And she sure as hell couldn’t, under any circumstances, let him know that he’d gotten to her.
Nope, no man had the power to derail her life. And the one outside her bedroom door was not going to steal another moment’s peace from her.
She climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom.
Feeling like a zombie, she took her time in the shower—letting the hot water run until she’d emptied the water heater. It didn’t help much. Her eyes were still gritty, her brain sluggish, and she ended up washing her hair with shaving cream. Which meant that every time she caught a whiff of her hair her nipples tightened.
Annie didn’t know how she did it, but somehow she managed to talk herself out of crawling back into bed with trusty old B.O.B. Instead, she changed into jeans and a T-shirt, then, afraid he was still parked outside her door as he had been when she’d checked earlier, she did what any mature woman in her situation would do.
She quietly climbed out the window and ran for her car, sure to rev the engine a few times and wish him a long and loud good morning honk just in case he was still asleep. But as she peeled out of the driveway, an irritating thought jumped into her head.
Had she outsmarted him, or played right into his hand?
* * *
It was a new experience to go unrecognized at her place of work, and Annie relished her anonymity at Rome General. With her scrubs in her bag and a bouquet of wildflowers in hand, she wasn’t dressed the part of physician’s assistant.
In Connecticut, that wouldn’t have mattered. She would have been spotted, and approached, by a dozen colleagues and patients before she’d even cleared the lobby. There would be questions—so many questions—about the wedding, her feelings, Clark, until eventually the inquisitors would arrive at the questions everyone wanted to ask: Why did she think Clark had called it quits?
If Annie knew the answer to that, then she wouldn’t have had to relocate for perspective.
Here in Rome, Annie was an unknown. A fresh face, able to walk the halls of the ICU undetected. Able to focus on providing the kind of unconditional nurturing that had drawn Annie to medicine in the first place. She wanted to spend her days proving that every person deserved to be cared for.
Today, that person was Gloria, a retired school bus driver who needed a little extra in the care department. Could benefit in some support to help her overcome her fear of hospitals long enough to have her gallbladder removed. Annie wasn’t there to read Gloria’s chart or take her pulse. She had come to the hospital hours before her shift began simply to hold the older woman’s hand.
No one deserved to feel alone.
The ICU was uncharacteristically quiet as Annie made her way to Gloria’s room. She lay in the bed closest to the window, her eyes closed, still coming out of the anesthesia. Annie silently walked over to the window.
Outside, the sun was radiant, shining through fluffy white clouds and blue skies. A slight breeze swayed the crape myrtles that lined Main Street, resembling dual rows of bright pink lollipops stretching all the way to the shoreline, where the whitecaps of the Atlantic kissed the sand.
“Are those forget-me-nots?” a sleep roughened voice asked.
Annie turned to find Gloria coming to, her cheeks warm with shy gratitude.
“And some lantana.” Annie’s hands brushed the brilliant red and orange umbrella-shaped blooms.
“My favorites,” Gloria rasped, and Annie poured her a glass of water, then held a straw to Gloria’s laugh-lined lips. “How did you know?”
“Delores at The Watering Can might have mentioned it.”
“They’re beautiful.” Gloria’s smile turned serious as she checked the door. “No one’s looking, go check that chart there and tell me when it looks like I’ll be going home. If it doesn’t say today, then let’s do