Page 54 of Cloud Nine Love

I started to climb in the back of the ambulance, but my mom shouted through the oxygen mask, “No! Go back to California. Don’t come with me.”

“Mom, I’m coming with you.” That was not up for discussion.

“No!” she shouted even louder.

Milo turned and looked at me, and I knew what he was going to say before he said it. It didn’t matter that she was my mom; I was upsetting his patient. His first responsibility was to her, and he wasn’t going to allow me to ride along.

“I’ll meet you guys there.” I backed out of the ambulance, confused and scared.

On the way to the hospital, I considered calling Ruby but decided to wait until I had something concrete to tell her. Right now, I had no clue what was going on. All I knew was how relieved I was that it hadn’t happened tomorrow, because I would have been back in California.

This was just one more sign that I belonged here. I needed to come home.

24

TAYLOR

“No word in the English language rhymes with month.” ~ Tim Rhodes

“How’s y’all’s first day going?” Angie, the charge nurse, asked as she leaned against the large circular desk that sat in the center of the emergency room. Her head was tilted down, and her eyes met mine above the bifocals she wore.

Angela Vargas had worked in the emergency department at Valley Memorial for the past thirty years. She was welcoming and kind, but it was clear that she did not suffer fools. I sensed that I did not want to get on the woman’s bad side. Thankfully, I planned on staying on her good side.

“Good.” It hadn’t been a busy day at all, which I was grateful for, for two reasons. First, the slower pace allowed me to acclimate myself to my surroundings, the staff, and the protocol for this hospital. Second, I hadn’t slept a wink the night before. I could have grabbed a few hours, but honestly, I hadn’t wanted to waste a second of being in Remi’s arms, which was never a situation I’d thought I’d be in. Not only had I allowed myself to cuddle, I hadn’t wanted it to end.

I also never thought I’d find myself hopelessly in love with someone after only knowing them for seven days, but that’s exactly where I was. It took one week for me to fall head over heels for Remi. Studies showed that, on average, it takes three times as long as the duration of the relationship to heal from a broken heart.

If that was the case, I was looking at a month of misery, and then, hopefully, I’d be able to put this all behind me. It was two in the afternoon, which meant Remi should be on a plane back to California by now. I was really hoping to lean into the whole out-of-sight, out-of-mind thing. So far, it hadn’t been going well.

Remi seemed to have imprinted himself into my psyche. He pulled an Elvis; he was always on my mind. Actively trying not to think about him was pointless; it only shone a spotlight on how impossible that was to do. It was exhausting. My body ached like I’d just run a marathon. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed, but I knew when I did, he wouldn’t be there.

As tired as my body was, my mind was still sharp, which served me well in my career. This job was not nine to five. In the years I’d practiced medicine, I couldn’t count the number of times I’d been up for two days straight, only to have an emergency come in and put someone’s life in my hands—literally.

I didn’t want to jinx it, but today had been blessedly low-key. In the past eight hours, I’d seen twelve patients, which was a little over half of the twenty-two that had come through the department. I was tempted to knock on wood that it would continue to be easy-breezy, but I decided not to give into the superstition.

Right now, there was a break in the action. Five of my patients had already been discharged: a kid with a broken arm, a teen with an acute reaction to shellfish, a couple who had whiplash after being in a fender bender, and a man in his mid-forties who presented as a myocardial infarction or heart attack but ended up being acute anxiety. Three others had been admitted. One was rushed to surgery, and I had two patients who were waiting on labs to come back before I could continue treatment.

“I’m going to go grab a coffee and snack,” I told Angie, patting the pager on my hip out of habit, not that she needed a reminder I had it on me.

Angie humored me with a wink of acknowledgment.

On the way out, I heard a nurse in exam room 112 explaining, “Your son is still here. He’s asking to come see you.”

“No. I do not want to see him. Just tell him to go home.”

The woman’s voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place where I’d heard it before. She might be one of my aunt and uncle’s friends. Or maybe someone who had been at the wedding the day before. Or maybe I didn’t know her at all, and she just had one of those voices.

I pressed my I.D. to the security pad on the wall, and the double doors opened. I got lost once on my way to the cafeteria, whichwas more like a food court in a mall than a cafeteria in high school. I grabbed a coffee, a fruit bowl, and a fiber bar.

After paying for my snacks, I briefly considered hanging out in the common space to eat but decided I’d get right back into the pit. I’d always found immersion worked best for me. I was an all-or-nothing girl, which was probably why I was having such an issue with Remi.

There was no future for us, so the right thing to do would have been to keep my distance from him, but that had proved impossible. All my life, I’d prided myself on my self-control. I was not one of those people who would eat an entire bag of chips. Once I popped, I could stop. I didn’t have to eat an entire sleeve of cookies after one bite. I’d eat one, enjoy it, and move on with my day. I had never had any issues showing restraint, discipline, or control. But with Remi, I was ravenous. Every time he was near me, or worse, touched me, I lost all willpower. I was like Cookie Monster, devouring my treat.

“Taylor?” A deep, masculine voice sounded behind me as I rounded the corner to head back to the E.R.

When I heard my name, I froze. At the hospital, everyone called me Dr. Hale. I turned around and was surprised to see Dr. Mathis. I’d met him when I was in this very hospital five years ago, almost to the day, giving birth to Harper. He’d been doing his residency and was on rounds in labor and delivery. He went off his shift about an hour into my labor, so he hadn’t ended up delivering her. But he’d stopped by the next day and checked in on me.

His casual yet competent and capable bedside manner had left an impression on me, which was why I’d remembered his name. Either that or it was the dark hair, strong jaw, Colgate-commercial-worthy smile, and crystal blue eyes.

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