Purposefully Coincidental ✓

73. MM

Josephine

"If you need anything, just press that button and I'll come to you." I smile at Ashley, a twelve-year-old patient who broke her leg riding her big brother's bike. That smile falls as soon as I exit her room.

I haven't smiled a genuine smile in close to three weeks.

Ever since Leo left.

After my week of sulking and crying my heart out, I couldn't do it anymore. My mind went crazy with all different kinds of scenarios.

So I've been working myself to the bone. Almost every day. Someone called in sick? I'm here. Someone need their shift covered? I'm down.

When I'm working, I'm focused on my task and patients that I don't think much about Leo.

But when I'm laying in bed, cold and alone, my mind is always with him. I can hardly fall asleep at night. Maybe it's part because I shug so much caffeine and red bull during my shifts. But that's because I need the energy during work, as I couldn't sleep the night before. Then again, because of the caffeine overdose during the day, I can't fall asleep at night. Also, because my mind conjures up scenarios of Leo being hurt and not getting the help he needs. Or of him wrapping his arms around me and surprising me. Then when the bed stays cold in his absence, I start weeping.

Still, none of this has affected my work. I'm giving my best to every patient. I'm just not giving my best to me.

I haven't talked to anyone in my family in almost a month. My parents and brothers—minus Roman—call me every day but I decline each one of their calls. I'm not ready to face them. See the looks on their faces that say 'I told you so'. 

I'll go see them when I'm ready.

Ananya checks up on me during work and Candy when I'm off.

But I put on a brave face for them and hope they believe I'm doing better.

But I'm not.

I thought each day would get easier, but it's not. On the contrary. It's getting more difficult with each passing second I don't hear from Leo.

No one has heard from him yet.

I splash cold water on my face, then pinch my cheeks, giving them more color before exiting the bathroom.

My pager rings with the request of going to my supervisor, Emily.

"You needed me?" I peek my head into the ajar door. She gestures for me to enter, and I close the door behind me.

"Josie," she clasps her hands and her smile to me is a sad one. I hate it. I keep getting looks from my colleagues and they're full of pity. "How are you?"

"Alright." I shrug.

"You've been working really hard these past few weeks." She glances at her screen, then back at me.

"I have a lot of free time on my hand." I say this as my reason for picking up so many shifts.

"Hmm." She scrolls down on her screen before removing her reading glasses and looks at me intently. "How are you really doing, though?"

I swallow back the tears. "I'm doing my best."

I don't feel like talking to her—or anyone—about Leo. My emotions are all over the place and I don't know what I'm feeling myself half the time. Good thing I'm a nurse and well trained in keeping my emotions in check in front of patients.

"Can you now tell me why you worked almost eighty hours last week?"

"Like I said," I say in a nonchalant tone. "I don't have anything else going on."

"Josie," she clears her throat. "You're not doing well. Your colleagues are worried about you."

My brows furrow.

"I'm worried about you. And Leo's family, too."

"Appreciate it, but I'm doing fine." That couldn't be further from the truth.

"Clearly you're not." She levels me with a look. "You can lie to my face and tell me you're working like a slave because 'you have nothing else going on', but I've known Leo since he was a little boy. His departure affected me, too. So I can't even imagine what you must be going through."

"No, you can't." I grit. So I don't need her to play therapist with me.

"I have no choice but to give you a paid leave of absence." She says in a strict tone.

"What?" I cry. "You can't."

I can't not work. My mind will go crazy.

"I can." She says calmly. "This isn't solely my decision. Ms Monaro called me the other day."

"Aurora?" She nods. Why would Leo's mom call Emily and tell her to basically fire me?

"We think it's best if you take some time off and think—"

"I don't wanna think!" I burst, stand up and face the door to hide my face from her.

"Josie, you need to deal with this in a healthy manner. You can't tire yourself and risk making mistakes."

"I've never made a mistake." I face her again.

"Yet." She sighs. "I'm looking for yours and the hospital's best interest. We can't have you walking around like a zombie, waiting till your body is too fatigued to do your work properly."

My lips quiver and my eyes sting, so I give her my back and face the door again. It isn't lost on me that this is the second person to tell me I look like a zombie.

And I'm starting to feel like one, too. I'm a shell of a person lately. I haven't baked anything since Leo left. My apartment is a mess and Candy is the one who forces me to clean it every day.

"Please don't do this." I plead. "I'll go crazy in my house." I turn to her again and watch her stand up and round her table.

"Trust me when I tell you we're doing this for you."

"I can't not work." I try again. "I'll work less. The regular amount. Less even. Just, please, don't make me face my thoughts." And I also love my job and this hospital and I don't want to stop working here.

"I'm really sorry, but you need time to rest."

I feel the first tear glide down my cheek, then another and another. Slumping in the chair I vacated, I put my head in my hands and try my best not to break down right here, right now.

Covering my mouth and eyes, I gasp for air as I rein in my emotions. It takes me a full five minutes as Emily rubs my back.

When I finally get my shit together, I sniff and stand up.

"So, when can I get back?"

She gives me a small smile. "Let's take it one day at a time."

Great. That means I'm fired indefinitely. I might as well start searching for new jobs.

"Fine."

"You can call it a day today." She says.

Double great.

I nod and wordlessly leave her room and head to the exit of this hospital.

Here, I met the love of my life and learned the news that he was gone. Maybe getting fired isn't so bad after all.