job is to see to their care. My job ends when I walk out the door at the end of my shift. I’ll never last as an ER nurse if I take it home with me every day. It’ll end my career. I had to learn that fast.”
She rubbed his arm. “You have to learn to leave it at the station at the end of your shift, too, Rafe. Or it’ll take you, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left of you. And then the job you love will end up becoming the job you hate.”
He finally straightened and shifted to face her. “But how do you not feel?”
“I didn’t say I don’t feel anything. I have empathy for all my patients. I just don’t have an emotional attachment to any of them. My job is to help them, to provide care for them to the best of my abilities. But I don’t get involved with them, with their lives or with their emotions. My patients need me to be damn good at my job, and that’s what I give them. They don’t need someone to love them. They need someone to help make them well.
“Your victims don’t need you to fall apart. They need you to put out the fire, pull the ones who are alive from a smoky building, rescue them from the wreckage of a vehicle, or the countless other things you do every day. That woman who died the other day? She has family to mourn her. It was an awful tragedy. But . . . you saved other lives that day by putting out that fire. Other families will be able to move back into that building and go on with their lives because of what you did. That’s the part you have to focus on. The other part? You have to let it go.”
He nodded. “You’re right. Thanks for talking me through it.”
“You’re welcome. But I still think you need to continue the counseling, because it’s not going to go away in a day.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I guess so, since this one seems to be lingering.”
She nodded. “It will. Until you get to the place where you can accept it and move forward.”
“I guess sometimes this will happen.”
“It happens to all of us who care for people. It happens to me sometimes and I have people that I go talk to. Our jobs aren’t easy.”
He blew out a breath. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
She swept her hand over his jaw. “I’m glad I could help.”
“Yeah, more than you know. I guess I need to take a shower. And eat.”
“You go shower. I’ll fix you some food.”
“You sure?”
She nodded.
“Thanks. I won’t be long.”
“Take your time. You might need to do some extra scrubbing. You kind of smell.”
He smiled, and good God, it was nice to see that smile on his face again.
He stood and sighed, then disappeared upstairs.
Carmen went to the fridge, pulled out some eggs, a ham steak and fruit. She threw the ham steak into the skillet to start frying. While that was cooking, she sliced some strawberries and added blueberries and blackberries to a bowl. Then she cracked the eggs and whisked them in a bowl, set it aside and sliced some green peppers and onions. When the ham was done cooking, she chopped it up, mixed it with the eggs and vegetables and tossed them all in the skillet together to whip up an omelet. She added cheese at the end, folded it over and slid it onto a plate, then put the fruit salad into a cup.
She heard the door open, and Rafe came downstairs looking a lot more like—Rafe. He wore a clean pair of navy shorts and a powder blue tank.
He came up next to her. “You made an omelet?”
“I did.” She handed him the plate. “You smell a lot better. And you shaved.”
“Yeah.” He took the plate from her, then looked around. “You’re not eating?”
“I had a big breakfast with my grandfather this morning. I’ll eat some of this fruit.”
She sat with him at the kitchen table, happy to see him devouring the omelet and the fruit while she casually scooped up some of the fruit salad.
“This is really good,” he said in between mouthfuls.
“Glad you like it.” She’d also poured him a large glass of mango juice, which he greedily emptied, making her wonder when he’d last eaten a decent meal. Now she was happy she’d made the omelet oversize.
When