Page 9

Chapter

Vivian

I tucked my phone back into my scrubs pocket as my shoulders slumped. Nothing. Lennon had texted a few times, mostly about his dog, who I adored already. But since I’d returned to San Francisco, there’d been no calls, no mention of a visit—nothing like what we’d been discussing before the attack.

I leaned my head against the wall and tried to find some sense of calm. My shift today had seen the end of two patients. I hated those moments. I wasn’t sure I could keep doing this work, not now that I was in a funk over Lennon.

That wasn’t quite true. More than my feelings, I’d been struggling with the mere sight, let alone smell of blood ever since I’d been coated in Lennon’s. And since Lennon had quit talking to me, every negative bump, bruise, and shred of grief seemed amplified. When I added that to the loss of patients, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stomach this career.

I wasn’t in a great headspace to nurse my patients, which meant I wasn’t a great nurse. I hated that reality.

“You all right, Vivian?” Maude asked. She was an older nurse, close to retirement. She patted my shoulder as she walked past. We both knew today had taken a toll. She stopped and spun back. “You’re on a break, right?”

I nodded, my throat tight. Everything felt off since I’d returned to San Francisco—like I couldn’t get my bearings. Part of that was Lennon withdrawal. Leaving him there, hurt and in the hospital, had never sat right, and I struggled to focus on my tasks when all I wanted was to nurse him , talk to him, be with him.

I sighed. I was especially down today, but every day had become a chore.

“They just brought the dogs in for the kids. Go pet one. Does wonders for the soul.”

“Thanks. I’m not very good company?—”

Maude waggled her finger. “This is medicine for your mental health. Be sure to pet a dog. I’ll walk you over there myself, missy.”

I tipped my head and smiled a little. No, I didn’t appreciate being spoken down to, but I did love how big Maude’s heart was. “I’ll head over as soon as I eat. Cross my heart,” I added when Maude opened her mouth.

“Now,” she said.

I laughed. Unlike some of the other younger nurses, I appreciated Maude’s tough love. “I’m going.”

Ten minutes later, I had my fingers buried in the soft pelt of a golden retriever who panted gently against my shoulder. “Maude was right. You’ve really helped my mood, Sasha,” I murmured into the dog’s ear. I pulled back from the doggy hug and gave her ears a scratch. “I should get one of you,” I said with a smile.

“She packs quite an anti-anxiety punch,” her handler said.

“She sure does,” I said, stroking Sasha’s head for a few more moments. Then, with a sigh, I rose from the floor. My back was stiff from the long shift and my tightly bound emotions. Crying happened only in the shower, in the privacy of my home.

So, I worked the rest of my shift and then headed there, where I performed my ritual cryfest. I’d just dressed when I heard a knock at my door. This was welcome distraction from my spiraling thoughts. Maybe it was Lennon. He’d promised to come see me… I practically sprinted across my apartment, stubbing my toe on the back of my couch. I winced but my momentum propelled me into the door, which I hit with my shoulder. The loud thud had a blush blooming on my cheeks.

“Vivian, are you okay?” That was Hana Sato, my quiet, somewhat shy neighbor I’d been trying to get closer to for months. I yanked open the door, both disappointed she wasn’t Lennon and thrilled that she’d taken me seriously about stopping by.

“Hey, Hana! Yeah, I’m fine. Stubbed my toe. I’m so glad to see you.”

“Does it hurt?” Hana asked in that soft voice that made me think of my mother’s thick, delicious, homemade hot chocolate. She made it the traditional way, with cinnamon and red chile powder from her home state of Oaxaca in Mexico. I missed my mom’s specialty drink nearly as much as I missed her hugs and advice.

That was a lot, especially now.

So much for guiding me to the love of my life, Mom. More like the biggest dud of my dating experience.

“I’ll be fine,” I assured Hana. I hoped that was true. I waved my arm as I stepped back. “Come in. Please.”

Hana’s liquid brown eyes reminded me of a doe. She was soft and slightly unsure, but the intelligence in her gaze burned bright. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” I held the door open wider and smiled.

She scooted into my living room, her limp slight but noticeable. She wore a pair of dark dress pants and a simple white blouse. Hana wasn’t fussy, but her choices were classic and clean. Her business attire made me feel frumpy in my sweatpants and fitted T-shirt. I hadn’t bothered with shoes because I had no plans to leave my apartment until my next shift.

Burrowing and wallowing wasn’t healthy or productive. I made a mental note to look into helping out at the animal shelter; if I walked dogs for them, I’d get some much-needed exercise and fresh air while creating less time to fixate on what had been the most perfectly romantic weekend in romance history—until it wasn’t.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be off,” Hana said. “I’m not interrupting anything important, am I?”

“Nothing is going on tonight. I’m on a two-day rotation right now, and I finished my shift and just got out of the shower. I need a meal and maybe a glass of wine.” I raised my eyebrows. “Want to join me?”

“Sounds like the best plan.” Hana limped to my red velour sofa and settled daintily at the end, stretching out her leg. Her injury hurt her often, but she did her best to hide it. Once she reached the couch, she flopped back against the cushions, taking up the position I’d left moments before.

Oof . So that’s why she was here. She’d had one of those emotionally trying days, too.

Now even more, I wished for my mom’s cocoa. It was so much more comforting than a cool glass of Chardonnay.

“Want some onigiri?” I asked.

We had a tiny, hole-in-the-wall restaurant two doors down that served some of the best Japanese cuisine I’d ever tasted.

Hana hesitated a beat too long before she shook her head and dropped her gaze to the floor. Ah, she was in a financial crunch. That’s why we lived here, in this building. It was relatively affordable—for the Bay Area—and safe. That meant I could power through another thousand dollars a month on my loan payments. Based on my current trajectory, I’d be out from under those in five years.

“You seem preoccupied,” Hana said. “I’ll go.”

What had we been talking about? Right. I’d asked if she wanted takeout. “No, no. Don’t leave. Please. I had a rough day and could really use the company, so this is my treat. I’m craving the salmon.”

Hana bit her lip as she rolled her head to face me, no doubt to tell me she wasn’t interested in the dinner—something we both knew wasn’t true. But I pulled out my phone and quickly placed an order. “You know onigiri is only good when its fresh, so now you have to help me.”

She placed her hands over her gurgling stomach, trying to silence her hunger pangs.

Hana wasn’t as lucky as I was. I only had student loans to pay off; she had medical debt along with her loans, and I knew she rarely ate out—or probably ate like she should, for that matter. She wasn’t able to make additional payments that drew down the interest and principal. From what I could tell, she was barely making ends meet, which was shocking for such a talented aerospace engineer with what I assumed was a great salary.

“While we wait for the food, tell me what’s going on,” I coaxed. “I mean, I’m glad you’re here, but you don’t often just pop in.”

“I’m sorry. Really. I can go?—”

“That’s the opposite of what I want, Hana. You’re welcome any time. I mean that. I’m glad you’re in the building with me.” I smiled, suddenly aware that she needed a friend just as much as I did.

Her eyes filled with hope as she smiled back. Oh, yes, Hana and I had been friendly, even distant friends, before. But tonight, I hoped we were on our way to a connection. My grin widened, and hers did, too.

“Good. Now that we’ve established our bestie bond, tell me what’s going on,” I said.

“I don’t like my boss.” Hana made a face.

“Jeremy?” I wrinkled my nose. I’d met him a few times when he’d dropped Hana off or picked her up. I didn’t like the guy either, because of how proprietary he was about Hana—like she was his to own. “What’s to like? He’s Silicon Valley slick.” I grimaced. “I dated one of those guys while I was still in nursing school. I couldn’t handle the constant sales pitch.”

Hana pursed her lips, seeming to evaluate my comment. “Yeah…that.” She turned to face me as I settled against the edge of the couch. “On the other hand, he’s smart and ambitious and building a really freaking cool apparatus that will allow us to transport goods to the moon and space.”

“Pssh. Best I can tell, you’re building the apparatus. He’s just writing your check.” And probably not enough of one if Hana couldn’t even grab takeout once in a while. “But what brought this on?” I asked.

She moved her gaze to the fascinating beige-y white of my ceiling, clearly expecting it to have more answers than I did.

“Jeremy asked me out,” she said, her voice soft, nearly regretful. “For the third time. We’ve gone for coffee, gotten dinner at the end of a long workday, but this feels…official. Like he wants to take our relationship to a more significant level.”

“Oh. And you… want to go?” I asked.

“No, that’s the thing. I don’t like Jeremy like that . Or much at all, which is what I realized earlier today. I can’t be with him romantically. Not just because he’s my boss but because…well, I had the love of my life,” Hana said, her voice quieter than usual. “And that’s over. I won’t find that deep of a connection ever again.”

She said it with such certitude; I felt terrible for her.

“You’re young, Hana. I get that you feel that way now, but…who knows? In ten, fifteen years, maybe you’ll find the perfect man.”

We’d be on the cusp of too old to have kids in fifteen years. I frowned, hating that I might miss out on something so important to me because my damn heart refused to give up on Lennon.

Well, it hadn’t been that long, and healing took time. There was every likelihood he’d pull his head out of his rear…and nothing. He didn’t want me; I now reminded him of one of the worst moments in his life, though thankfully he’d been able to return to the NHL. I’d been so worried until I saw his sweater—I’d learned the term as I watched that first game of the season—appear on my screen, along with what I’d learned were some impressive statistics.

Seeing him there, where he clearly belonged, I couldn’t blame him for his change of heart about me—about us . But my stupid heart refused to give up hope.

“The one I lost…he’s my soulmate, Viv,” Hana said with absolute conviction. “There’s no way I’ll ever feel that way about another person.” She sighed. “I’m not saying I couldn’t find contentment, maybe even some pale version of love. But I don’t want that. I’ll know it’s lesser.”

When the delivery guy buzzed, I went down to grab our food as I mulled over Hana’s comments.

I returned to face her once I’d paid the delivery kid. “Are you sure ?”

“Yes. I imprinted. Like a crocodile.” She shrugged. “And anyway, I wouldn’t want that type of connection again.” She sighed as she rubbed her leg. She hadn’t given me all the details about her injury, but I was in the medical profession. I could tell her leg had been crushed based on her limp, and she wore a brace I could see through her trousers. “All it did was leave me hurt and yearning.”

I groaned, unable to keep the words back this time. “That, sister, I understand.” I glanced down at the food in the unassuming paper bag. “Let’s eat some feelings.”