The Coincidental Way We Met.

Chapter 12

Sophy leaned back in the nurse station. This was her first nursing shift since she came back from her vacation. It had been a quiet night so far. Her mind keeps returning to leaving Charles at the airport and his message.

 It’s the end.

She had a feeling that Charles was not safe. She had left him in a place where she didn’t know if he had gotten home safely. Yeah, he had texted her, but had he said anything about his arrival in Seattle? No. She picked up her phone. Maybe she would text him. No, he had said he did not want any more contact. But she did not know if he was safe. What if he had yet to make it home? What if he was still in Nevada? What if he had been kidnapped? Or…

Her worries were cut off when the nurse assistant—tapped her shoulder.

“Are you awake? I have been talking to you for five minutes and realized you were not responding.” There you are, sitting, staring blankly at the wall. What is wrong?”

“I guess jet lag, still stuck in long beach and not here, you know.”

“Oh, I am sorry.” I did hear that you had a rough vacation with the plane detour, and I saw on the news that a businessman died in the airport. “Did you see the man that died?”

“Yeah, I saw the man.”

“How frightening; I think I would need another vacation. Tough luck.”

“Thanks. What did you want to say to me before?”

Sophy struggles to focus on her work. She keeps having repetitive thoughts about past events. Why could she not relax a little? Her mind races. Why could she not rest? She wanted to sleep. Her head hurt. She gulps down her third cup of black coffee that day. The taste of black coffee they serve at the hospital is like car oil in its acidity and pungent taste. Her mouth felt dry. She drank some water. The clock rang, and she jumped into her seat. It was the end of her shift already. She signs off to the head nurse.

Her eyes are heavy with sleep, but she turns one side and the other trying to find a comfortable place in the bed. Her headaches and throbs. She gulps down three Tylenol pills. She lies there waiting for the thundering pain in her head to go away soon.

Her eyes closed she fell into a restless sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed. She dreamed that she saw Charles standing in front of her. She could not get closer to him no matter how hard she ran. He was always out of reach, untouchable. She screamed his name, and he did not turn. She ran until she fell to the ground in exhaustion. Still, he was in front of her, unreachable. Her body felt sweaty, and her mouth was dry. Her lips parted before she plunged into the deep darkness. She seems to float on the dark circle with no light, no noise. She just floated in the air. The darkness covered her, and she could no longer hear, see, or smell. Her senses deadened. She had lost control of her racing thoughts.

The early morning light shone on the bed. She turned over, and the glowing alarm clock read 11 am. She had been tired out from her night shift at the hospital. And the jet lag and worries about her Charles had worn her down. She picked up her phone and saw a new message from Charles. She started, why? She knew it could not be correct. He had just told her he was no longer interested in continuing their relationship. She laid down her phone and did not want to answer the message. She creeps from her bed and into the small bathroom.

The hot water washes over her body; she closes her eyes as the hot water pounds down on her tense face. She lets out a sob. Her heart had not felt this much emotion in so long. Since Charles harshly rejected her, she had been trying to hold back her feelings. She knew all too well how much in love she was with Charles. It did not seem genuine or reasonable to want someone that bad. She was still in love with Charles. No, she was frustrated. She felt like tearing off his head. She would let the message wait for a while. She did not want to know what he said. It was unimportant anyway. She knew he did not care about her anymore. So, why trouble herself about him. She crunches on her breakfast cereal. 

She had the next two weeks free. Her next 48-hour shift was this weekend. She threw her dirty bowl into the sink, the hot water rushed over it, and her hand hurt from the hot water stinging against her bare hands. She pulls on her bright running tights and tennis shoes. She places her baseball cap on her head and adjusts her ponytail. She was ready for a run. The warm morning air caressed her cheeks and blew away any worries. She breathes through each stride, letting her mind rest for a while. She knew that life would fall into place. Her stride lengths as she releases her worries. Everything would work out for the best in the end. She smiles as another runner runs down the trail and waves. It was her neighbor, Rick. He was very handsome and always liked chatting with her about medical stuff. He was a physical therapist at the hospital. She suspects that he has a crush on her. However, she had never pursued him. She wonders why maybe he would…not why she would want him. Did not she love Charles?

But Charles was over. No— he had just contacted her. How could it be over? She needed to get back to Charles. But… When she got up the nerve to check her phone, have hoped it was Charles but knew it probably was not. It said, “I am deeply sorry. Please call me, can we talk soon? Love, Charles”. That was a simple message. Should she call him? She glances at her smartwatch. It is 6 pm. She would call him tomorrow morning. She did not know what she would say. Why apologize? Why end the relationship and begin it all over a week later? She felt irritated, but no, she was not irritated. She was mad. What would she say? She could not understand why he would reject her like that and then contact her again. She would need to ask him. He needed to explain himself. Maybe he was not telling her about their relationship and his personal life. She wonders if he is still working on the same legal cases. And why he had disappeared so shortly after the murder of the odd man. Maybe she would not call him. Sophy had made up her mind if he expected her to be at his beck and call. He could forget it. She turned off her phone.