Page 5 of Rounds (Love In Scrubs)

“No, the fucking point is that you’re a liar and a cheater, and I don’t fucking trust you anymore. You were probably cheating for our entire relationship, having me looking like a fool all over Silverrun. This is bullshit I shouldn’t have to deal with at all. I just want you to leave me alone.”

I grabbed my keys and the bag I’d hung by the door when I first got here and opened the door.

I took one last look back, doing my best to withhold my emotions, and walked to my car.

He stood on the porch and watched me leave him.

Hopefully, whenever I came to get the rest of my things, he wouldn’t be home.

I threw my bags in the back seat of my car, then slid inside.

My breathing had gotten heavy. The weight of this was killing me, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how broken I felt. Fuck him.

I pulled out of the driveway then finally let the tears grace my cheeks.

It was like my life was a fucking game to him.

My heart was the prize, and he obviously thought that once he had it, he couldn’t lose it.

He was wrong about that shit. I drove until I made it to the hotel down the street from the hospital.

I was off on weekends, but I would probably call my supervisor to see if I could work tomorrow.

Being alone while feeling like this was a no-go.

The last thing I wanted to do was sink into depression.

I usually used my weekends for self-care.

I did my natural tresses and went to the salon to get my nails and facials done.

I got my hair done once a month there when I wanted it straightened.

I could handle all the other styles I wanted it in, unless I got braids.

I hadn’t had those in a while. When I went to the desk, I got a room for the entire weekend.

I didn’t want to go back to that house until I was moving out.

Had I paid the deposit today on that loft, I could have been moving in Monday.

Now their business office would be closed until Monday.

I would be sure to pay my deposit as soon as they opened.

After getting to my room, I flopped on the bed and called my supervisor.

She was ecstatic that I wanted to work, because they were typically shorthanded in the emergency room over the weekends.

Like any other hospital, there was always an uptick of patients on the weekends.

Once I ended the call with her, I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

I would have to tell my parents that I was moving when that time came. Although we weren’t close, they knew where I lived. They had the need-to-know details about my life. They knew I was in a relationship and that we lived together. We caught up once a week usually.

My thoughts drifted to Glover Israel. His dark skin was slightly red when I brought the food to him.

As I recalled details, I remembered that his tinted lips had quivered when he spoke to me.

His muscular frame was somewhat slumped, and his eyes held a sadness that looked like it would take him down at any moment.

He’d slid his hand down the top of his head before he walked back toward the door to the hospital.

His waves looked a little disheveled, like he’d been rubbing his head a lot, and so did his beard.

Those were probably nervous habits of his.

I closed my eyes, and silently prayed for him and his father again before my mind drifted back to my current situation with Jaunté.

Slowly shaking my head, I stood from the bed and went to start the shower.

I pulled my scrubs off and pinned my hair up.

Once I put my shower cap on and took off my undergarments, I got in, letting the hot water relax my tensed muscles.

Before I could stop myself, my emotions fell out of me like air out of a blown tire.

My feelings were going crazy. I was hurt, angry, and lost. That was a dangerous combination for anyone.

Pulling myself together, I washed my body then got out and moisturized my skin.

I cleaned my face and applied my night cream then replaced my shower cap with a bonnet and made my way back to the bed.

I saw a text notification on my lock screen and rolled my eyes.

Jaunté would get blocked as soon as I got all my shit out of his house.

I unlocked the screen to read his message.

I’m not giving up, baby. I love you, and I’m so sorry. Seeing your hurt, although you were trying to disguise it with anger, made me feel lower than the sole of my shoe. I can’t believe I willingly hurt you like this. I promise I’m going to make all this shit right. Don’t give up on me. Please.

His message only produced more tears out of me, fucking up my face cream I’d just applied.

He just didn’t understand. Just because I was soft with him at one time, didn’t mean he still had access to that side of me.

He lost that privilege. I refused to waste the little energy I had left responding to him.

I had to try to get some sleep to be ready for my day tomorrow.

Hopefully, work would keep me distracted enough so I didn’t have to think about his ass or my broken heart.