Sons Of Silence

15: Fragile feelings

By the time I woke up the next morning, the bed beside me was empty, and my phone screen read 12 p.m. I sighed, dragging myself out of bed and making my way downstairs, where I found Brooke still lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

She glanced up at me and sat up as I walked into the kitchen to make us some coffee.

"What even happened last night?" she asked, rubbing her temple as she approached the island.

"Too much," I muttered, handing her a cup before taking a sip of my own.

After a while, Brooke left, citing sorority obligations and the need to study—at least, that's what she claimed. The rest of my day was spent cleaning the house and simply unwinding.

Later that afternoon, I received a call from the hospital confirming that I had secured the position. I would be starting on Tuesday, working three-day weeks with 12-hour shifts. The idea of working in the ER excited me, even though my life already had enough chaos as it was.

The next two days passed in a blur, and before I knew it, I was stepping into the hospital, ready to begin my shift. I hadn't heard from Everest since the night he was drunk in my bed, and I couldn't shake the curiosity about whether he had actually taken that guy's hand.

After completing orientation, my team lead, Mason, who I would be working with regularly, gave me a tour and set me up with my ID. He was tall, with shaggy blonde hair and warm brown eyes—cute, kind, and incredibly welcoming.

Six hours into the shift, my feet were screaming for relief. Finally, I made it to the break room, heating up the TV dinner I had brought with me. As I peeled the plastic wrap off, Mason walked in and sat down across from me.

I offered him a small smile. "So, you said you recently moved here from New York. How did you find a small town like Locus?"

I let out a small giggle at his amused expression.

"I actually grew up here. Moved to New York when I was sixteen," I explained.

"Well, that raises my next question—why would you ever want to come back?" he asked, giving me a curious look.

I sighed, tossing my empty tray into the trash. "It got just as lonely there as it could be here. Plus, my best friend is here... and the little family I have left."

Washing my hands, I prepared to return to the floor.

"I get that. I didn't grow up here either. I moved for university, got a job here right after graduation, and just... never left," he said as we walked down the hall together.

I raised a brow at him. "So I guess I can ask you the same thing—what made you stay?"

This time, he chuckled. "A girl. We dated in college. She loved the small-town life, and I hated it, but she convinced me this would be the perfect place to start a family. Then, she left. Packed up and moved to Miami or something because she wasn't ready to settle down."

"Oh... I'm sorry," I murmured, feeling a pang of sympathy. He did have this lost puppy look—big brown eyes practically pleading take me home with you.

"Shit happens, right?" he shrugged.

I nodded in agreement. Yeah, shit definitely does happen.

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The week flew by, and so did the next, and for once, I felt at peace—exactly what I had come here searching for.

Finally, after a long shift, I stepped outside at 5 a.m., beyond relieved to be heading home.