Don’t Mind If “I Do” by Everly Ashton

Six

Nick

Doing damage control and trying to improve my reputation isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I guess people are only interested when you’re screwing up, not when you’re doing good deeds.

But the most important thing I can do is stay away from Lucy. The one other time I worked a shift with her after talking to Dr. Schwartz, she acted as if she wanted to use this clusterfuck as a bonding moment between us. As if we’re both in the boat with no oars. I mean, seriously, when is this woman going to get the hint that we’re not happening?

Which is why when I spot her come out of a room at the end of the hallway, I dart into the patient’s room without reading the chart first.

“Hi, Nick,” Mazzy says in the same soft voice I remember from a decade ago. The same voice that’s been running through my mind since I heard her speak two words over the phone a week ago.

Her strawberry-blonde hair looks more strawberry than blonde and hangs in waves to her breasts. Her warm brown eyes still hold the same copper flecks I spotted when we were twelve—when I realized for the first time that she was a girl and exactly what that meant. She looks every bit the elegant society girl I see splashed on the pages of the local publications from time to time, and something about that makes my throat close up. Back when we were friends, I didn’t think she had it in her, but turns out she was the perfect candidate to carry the society girl torch.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I widen my stance. “I thought I told you not to call me again.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“We have nothing to say to each other.” I spin around to leave.

“Wait! I need medical attention.”

I circle back around and narrow my eyes at her. “Is that so?”

She nods and her cheeks flush. For the first time, I think maybe she’s not lying.

With a sigh, I go the computer and type in her name, pausing when I read what’s on the screen. “Chlamydia?”

She responds with a shrug, but the flush in her cheeks deepens. I guess that stayed the same over the years.

“Why do you think you have chlamydia?”

“Well… I…”

“Because your ex-husband was fucking half the city?” It’s a cruel thing for me to say, and based on the way her face drops, the missile I launched hit its mark. I feel like a complete asshole. “That was unprofessional of me, I’m sorry.”

She waves me off, but there’s still a frown on her face. “You only speak the truth.”

Her shoulders hunch, and the corners of her lips tilt down. She has a beaten-down expression. I want to console her, be her protector like I was for so many years.

Which is fucked up. She betrayed me. She doesn’t deserve my sympathy. Still, it doesn’t stop me from remembering when I would’ve done anything to take her pain away.

“Even so, I shouldn’t have said it. All right, let’s get a look at you. I’ll do a general physical first since a nurse hasn’t been in to see you yet, then we can talk about why you’re here.” I step closer to the bed and reach for the blood pressure cuff. “Hold your arm out.”

She does as I ask. I slip the cuff around her upper arm, doing my best not to touch her more than I have to. I pull the stethoscope from around my neck and lay it on her arm, then pump up the cuff.

“So how are you?” she asks.

“Shhh.” I count her heartbeats and find that her blood pressure is fine.

I ignore the question she asked as I grab the thermometer to take her temperature. Then I take a deep breath and steel myself as the flowery scent of her shampoo wafts my way when I tuck a section of hair behind her ear so I can place the thermometer in her ear. When my fingers brush her skin, she stills as though she’s holding her breath.

I ignore her reaction and wait for the thermometer to beep. It feels as though a decade passes before it goes off. “Your blood pressure and temperature are both good. Let me have a closer look at your eyes. It’s not uncommon for patients who have chlamydia to have conjunctivitis from spreading the bacteria.”

I stand in front of her, pull my light from my pocket, and press it on, then I bring it up to her face. I shine the light in her eyes and don’t see anything concerning, so I step back before I’m forced to inhale another breath of her floral scent.

“Everything looks good.” I make a note on her chart. “So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?” I cross my arms and stare her down. Not exactly my usual bedside manner, but with Mazzy, it’s important to keep that barrier between us in place.

“I needed to talk to you.”

My hands drop to my sides. “So your chlamydia is a ruse to get face time with me?”

“I tried to see you without being classified as a patient, but the nurses at the station wouldn’t let me.”

No doubt. They’ve been pretty protective of me since that damn video.

“So you decided to waste hospital resources instead? I could be seeing a patient who actually needs help right now. I know that doesn’t mean much to someone who has a private family doctor who comes to them, but to the people who use our services here, it does mean something.”

She scowls. “I’ll give a hearty donation to the hospital then.”

“Ah yes. Money solves everything in your world, doesn’t it? Well, that’s not how things work here.” I grab her file and spin to leave.

“Wait!”

With an exasperated sigh that makes me feel like a bull with steam coming out of his nostrils, I turn back around. “What could you possibly have to say to me after all these years?”

“A lot.”

Something about the way that she says it softens me, but I remind myself of what she did and the burning anger returns to my chest. “Then say what you have to so I can move on with my day and go help some real patients.”

“Do you remember that pact we made your last year of high school?”

Dread creeps up my spine, and goose bumps break out on my skin.

“I need you to make good on it.”

She’s got to be fucking kidding me.