Page 40 of Time To Live Again

“I’m sure you did. Were you good at it?”

I pull my hat down on my head, like it’ll hide my humiliation. “I thought so. It came naturally to me and I really loved working in the medical field. But if I was, why did I just…leave…one day and move back home like a quitter?”

“You quit?” he says, surprise obvious in his voice.

“Yep. I thought I could handle anything. That I was invincible. Turns out I was wrong. Angels were sparse for the patients when I was there, but there always seemed to be one around me.” I’m mumbling more to myself than to him.

“Olive, I don’t understand.”

I look up at him again and admire the way the sun reflects in his curious and sympathetic golden eyes. Right then, I know I can tell him anything, and he won’t judge me.

He caresses my cheek with his thumb. “Tell me. We’re safe up here. No one can hear you. I won’t tell a living soul anything you say.”

I lean into his soft touch. “I worked in that hospital during the pandemic. I witnessed firsthand how people were dying left and right. So much death.” I close my eyes briefly and breathe through the chills that rack my body. “Old, young, healthy, sick—it didn’t matter who. That damn virus latched on, and too many times, it didn’t let go. The smell of illness and death, the horrifying noises of people choking and gasping for air, machines beeping, and dead bodies not being taken away fast enough… They’re all part of my nightmares.

“We were covered head to toe to protect us. My face and around my eyes were cut and bruised from the goggles we wore.” I point to a tiny scar beneath my left eye. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but I do every time I look in the mirror. “No matter how much you saw on the TV, it didn’t capture how truly helpless we felt or were.”

Leo touches the mark softly. “I noticed it when you were shaving me. I wondered what it was from.”

“Now you know.”

He embraces me, his cheek resting against the side of my head. “I’m sorry, Olive. Nothing I say can change anything, but I truly am.”

I lay my head on his shoulder. “It does help, believe me. But I think I’m a coward.”

“What? Why? You helped all of those people.”

I pull back and narrow my eyes. “Did I?”

“That’s why you asked me if I believed in angels?”

“Yeah. You’ll have to watch the movie to understand what I mean. I know it’s only a movie, but it really resonates with me. I haven’t seen it since I left LA.”

“We’ll watch it. Together.” He kisses my temple. “Keep talking.”

“Were there angels roaming around the hospital? A few of my close coworkers and friends died. To this day, I still haven’t contracted the virus. Has an angel been by my side the entire time to protect me? Why didn’t it protect the ones who suffered? Why was I allowed to live?” I look to my right. “Is there an angel sitting on this bench with us right now or standing over there by the edge of the cliff? Was an angel with my dad when he died? Or with your dad?”

Leo keeps quiet because he knows I don’t need an answer. I’m just throwing my thoughts out there.

“One day, a…another coworker lost her life, and I…I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I was physically and mentally depleted and devastated. The nonstop pace and sixteen-hour days were impossible. Death was all around me. I couldn’t stand being in my own skin.”

“You were in survival mode. Anybody would understand your decision. And I’m sure you weren’t the only one. I can’t fathom what you went through.”

“Healthcare professionals were desperately needed, but I left. I gave up, returned to my parents a quitter, hid in bed for a few months, and then moved out. Since then, I’ve spent my life sitting in my apartment in front of the TV or computer screen. What kind of person does that make me?”

“Human. It makes you human. Everybody reacts to situations differently. You were working in extreme conditions, and you didn’t have as much experience as others.”

It’s sweet that he tries to make excuses for me, but I hate it as well. I let people down, and I’m mortified.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself. I stopped talking to the people I knew in LA. They try to contact me once in a while. Some sent me birthday messages the other day, and I was too chickenshit to respond.”

“Have you been back to LA?”

I shake my head, looking at my hands folded in my lap. “Nope. Out of fear, of course. I don’t know how I’d mentally react.”

“Is that why you freaked out yesterday when you couldn’t breathe? Why you hate hospitals?”

I nod, biting on my lip to stop it from quivering.

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