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Ellie is a bright and bubbly, yet dedicated new nurse in the Emergency Department at Chicago Medical Institute. Dr. Harry Styles, meticulous, hardworking, and driven, is the head of the department. Ellie's little q...
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I laid awake for a long time after Ian left. He seemed so sure when he said that Harry was looking at me as if he wasn't over me. But what did he know? He barely knew Harry. Then again, he was a guy, and maybe guys had their own secret code for knowing how other guys act. I couldn't pretend that the idea didn't excite me. I really had fallen hard for Harry, and I missed him like crazy, despite his senseless behavior. Even so, I wasn't sure if I could ever forgive him for all the awful things he said.
I thought about the kiss with Ian. He was a really good kisser, and he was an exceptional man. Any girl would be lucky to snag him. I would be lucky to have him, but there wasn't that spark. There was a lot of fun and laughter, but I couldn't let myself be too excited about him, because no matter how much I tried to talk myself out of it, I still had strong feelings for Harry.
My phone buzzed. It was Thomas.
"Hey, you," I said. "What are you doing up so late? And how did you know I'd be awake?"
"Told ya, I can read your mind." His voice was so weak, it was barely louder than a whisper. "I guess I just had a feeling you needed to talk."
"Oh, my god," I laughed. "You really are a mind reader." I told him all about Ian and our kiss and seeing Harry on the beach with Logan. "I'm so confused."
"Sounds like it," he mumbled.
"What am I gonna do without you?" I asked, tears slipping from my eyes and down to the pillow.
"You'll survive," he said, his voice growing hoarse. "I won't be far away."
An awkward silence ensued. We were talking about death, after all, not like he was moving away for a while. Finally he broke through the quiet and said, "A bald eagle."
"What?"
"A bald eagle," he repeated. "That will be my sign for you when you find Mr. Right. That will mean I approve of him."
I wanted to tell him to shut up, to stop being so silly, but he sounded so sincere. I figured it didn't matter if I let him believe whatever he wanted. "Sure, that sounds perfect," I whispered. "I'll let you go, I know you're tired."
"Love you, Ell."
"Love you, too, Thomas. Rest well."
I'd had my normal few days off between my three-shift marathons. I had been moping around my apartment most of the time, trying to make sense of everything.
When I got out of bed this morning, I knew I didn't want to spend another day alone. But Bridget and Kane were both busy, and Ian was working. Still in my pajamas, I made coffee and laid on the couch for a long time, just scrolling through social media posts, not really absorbing anything I was looking at or reading. I got up, poured myself a bowl of cereal and sat down again, this time in the front of the TV. Scrolling through the channels, I found nothing engaging or educational in the slightest. When I found myself engrossed in some celebrity news show, purporting that Kim Kardashian, although she seems very free about posting nude selfies everywhere, actually suffers from Body Dysmorphic Disorder, I dropped the remote and groaned, "What am I doing with my life?" I wasn't used to sitting around and feeling sorry for myself. But I wasn't in the mood to do anything else.
