Heartburn: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) by Tarrah Anders (best ebook reader .TXT) 📗

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Her tone deflates.

“There’s just so much shit between us, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“If I didn’t monumentally fuck that up, you never know, we could still be together if I didn’t run at the first chance.”

I ignore her comment and grab one of my shirts and a pair of sweats and toss them at her.

“Until we find your clothes, put these on, please? I’ll be in the other room.” I say, stepping out to give her privacy. I need to not be in the same room as her. I recall moments of last night and being so near to her is making my head spin.

I’m standing in the kitchen chasing aspirin with ice water when she comes in.

I slide the bottle of pills to her and get her some water as well. I found her clothes in the living room and motion to them on the counter in front of her.

“Thanks.” She says opening the bottle first.

It’s a flashback seeing her in my clothes. When she was seven months pregnant, she would always wear my t-shirts, it was my favorite look on her. I shake my head and try to clear my thoughts.

“Look, last night was a mistake,” I begin.

“You’ve already said that,” she responds dryly.

“What? You don’t think so?” I curiously ask.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she whispers and then turns around with the clothes in her arms as she leaves.

The ER has been busy all night, at one point there were no empty beds, and I was wondering if there was some huge outbreak of stupid happening in town because this was a rare occurrence. But it only appeared to be a nasty form of food poisoning from one of the restaurants in town because of a bad produce delivery and then things thankfully slowed down.

Kindra and I haven’t spoken about the other night, and she’s been a little stand-offish each time we’ve come into contact tonight during our shift together.

I haven’t been able to get her off of my mind, and it’s taking every ounce of me to try to ignore that need. We opened up the gates to one another. And it’s almost like I’m back to being addicted to her.

As much as I’ve been trying to ignore her and treat her just as I would another co-worker, I remember briefly how it is to have her in my arms again, how beautiful she looked in my shirt again, and how her body felt under mine.

It felt like coming home, like a part of me has been missing and was now reconnected.

I wasn’t wasted when I approached her at the bar, but by the end of the night, I was as I recall matching her drink for drink. I only know that we got to my place by the charges in my bank account.

From across the room, I observe her as she’s sitting in a corner, clearly typing notes in a patient’s chart by the look of determination on her face. She looks focused and continues to look between her notepad and her tablet screen. She looks up and catches me watching her, smiles, then returns to her work as if it was nothing.

This isn’t the same Kindra that I knew back when we were kids. A hint of who she was still is within her, but as expected when time goes on, she has changed.

Just as I have changed, she has too, and I should consider that. We were good together once, regardless of our age and how destructive we were as a couple, even as individuals. Sure, she hid something important from me. She lost just as much as I did and had to live all these years with the pain and loss of a child. While I thought there was a child out there, she’s known this whole time, that because of the mistakes of our night out partying, there was no longer a child.

I just need to have an honest conversation with her.

Get some real answers, and maybe some closure to move forward.

14

Kindra

My knee is bouncing with nerves as I look around Nosh and feel underdressed as I sit in my seat wearing a flowy skirt and a solid-colored tank top to match. Around me are small tables and couples enjoying their night out. I stand as soon as Rogan enters and begins walking toward me.

Nervous energy fills my body the closer he gets, then as he stands in front of me—I’ve lost all the function of putting words together and stringing sentences together.

“Hey there,” Rogan says, leaning in and giving me a side hug.

“Hey,” I return.

“Sorry I’m late, I had a phone consult that ran a little later than expected. Thanks though, for agreeing to meet tonight.”

“It’s alright, it’s given me a chance to scope out the joint, you know, look for weak points and escape routes.” I smirk.

“It’s been a minute since I’ve dined and dashed.” He returns with a devilish smile of his own that makes my stomach do flips.

“Of course, you’re an upstanding citizen now. If you got caught dashing, I’m pretty sure that would be all over The Gazette in a second.” I laugh.

“Same can be said for you. Look at us, the two biggest troublemakers in our senior class have done a complete one-eighty. It would be a pretty incredible VH-1 Where Are They Now story.”

“Oh man, I remember binging on those shows while studying. It was always on repeat, I’m pretty sure that I’ve seen every single episode that they made.”

“Speaking of which, how did you end up with nursing?” he asks.

“I wanted to do good, after everything,” I say simply. “What about you? I don’t recall being a doctor as part of your life plan.”

He takes a deep breath, looks a little nervous as he shifts in his seat and then looks me straight in the eye.

“I had a pretty hard