Page 30 of Bad at Love

“Morning,” I grumble back, tugging my messenger bag into place.

We head through the parking lot together, and I swipe my card when we get to the door.

“You’re quiet this morning,” she comments. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“You know there is only one side I get off on, Marta.”

“Wow, you’re extra grumpy today. What did Mr. Thunder Storm do?”

“He—Well, he…” I pause, sucking in a breath as I think of what to say. Storm did nothing. My bad mood has nothing to do with him and all to do with me. “He didn’t do anything.”

I stop after a few steps, when I realize Marta is no longer on the side of me. I look over my shoulder and find her standing in the hallway, gaping.

“Can you repeat that?” she says, placing her hand over her heart.

I sigh again. “He did nothing wrong.”

“No puedo creerlo!”

I hold her gaze, waiting for her to catch up. It takes her a minute, but finally she does. Then we continue on.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks once we reach the ER department.

“No,” I say honestly.

“I’m worried.”

“No reason. Just having a bad day.”

“But why, Gabriel? If Storm didn’t do anything... Is it your mother?”

I shake my head, pulling open the door and gesturing for Marta to go in ahead of me. “No, dinner went well yesterday, other than her pestering me over the date for her anniversary dinner.”

“I wish I could go,” she says, giving me a sad smile. “If I weren’t going to be across the country, you know I would.”

“I know.” It’s the truth. Marta is a good friend, and her husband is nice. Luiz is an ex-cop who was hurt on the job and no longer works. He wouldn’t care if she attended a family partywith me, but I’m not so lucky. Of course her family vacation is the week of the dinner.

When we reach the hallway where we part ways, she puts her hand on my shoulder.

“Please call me if you need anything.”

“You’re working.”

“This should be when I tell you that you’re more important than work but—”

“Life or death, I got it. I’m not offended, and if I need you, I will call.”

Lingering for a moment, she finally drops her hand and heads down the hall. I turn and go the way I need to, pulling my bag off my shoulder when I get inside the lab.

“Morning, Gabriel!” Wendy says, spinning to face me in the chair. “Hey, there is a new horror movie coming out on Friday. Do you wanna come with me?”

“I don’t do horror movies,” I answer, putting my messenger bag down.

“Oh, that’s surprising.”

“Is it?” I ask, pulling my phone from the side pouch of my bag and putting it in my pocket.

“Yes,” she says. “We could see something else?”

---