Chapter 345
[ 500 words ]
Chapter 345:
He couldn’t give her a timeline, and they both knew it. It was the cruel reality of his job.
He kissed her one last time, a hard, quick press of his lips, and then forced himself to turn away.
Caroline watched him stride across the dark lawn and disappear into the waiting SUV. The vehicle’s taillights glowed red for a moment, then faded into the darkness, leaving her alone on the porch.
She wrapped her arms around herself, the spot where he held her still feeling warm. His promise, “till the end of the line,” echoed in her mind, a mantra against the encroaching fear.
She took a deep breath and turned to go back inside, ready to face the empty house and the long, lonely night ahead.
Caroline spent a sleepless night, Jarrod’s promise warring with the cold, empty reality of his absence. The house felt too quiet, haunted by the lingering scent of her mother’s perfume and the echo of a voice that would never call her name again.
The next morning, she moved through the rooms like a ghost, straightening the stack of sympathy cards on the hall table, wiping down the kitchen counters. She brewed a pot of coffee out of habit, only to realize she was the only one who would drink it. She poured a cup, stared at it until it went cold, and poured it down the sink.
She needed to get out of this house.
ѕa𝘃𝗲 у𝗈𝘶𝗋 f𝖺vо𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘦 ո𝘰𝘃e𝗅𝗌 𝘰ո 𝗴𝖺𝗹n𝗈𝘷el𝘴.сo𝗆
She drove back to the city, the familiar routine of the commute feeling surreal after the emotional upheaval of the past week. Arriving at the hospital, she took a deep breath and put on her emotional armor. She was ready to face the day.
In the hallway, her department head, Dr. Orson Finchley, stopped her. His usually calculating face was arranged into an expression of careful sympathy. He had not forgotten who her husband was, nor the power Jarrod Romero wielded over this hospital. His condolences were genuine enough, but they were also strategic; a man like Finchley never missed an opportunity to curry favor.
“Thompson,” he said, his voice measured. “I was so sorry to hear about your mother. My sincere condolences. Take any time you need. We can cover your shifts.”
Caroline felt a small surge of gratitude, though she knew better than to trust Finchley’s kindness at face value. “Thank you, Dr. Finchley. But I’m ready to work. I need the distraction.”
He inclined his head, a gesture of calculated respect. “I understand. My door is open if you need anything.”
The brief moment of professional courtesy fortified her. She headed to the women’s locker room to change into her scrubs, feeling a little more prepared for the day.
As she opened her locker, she heard snickering from the corner. A new nurse, a recent transfer from another department, stood huddled with a young aide. The nurse, her name tag read Corbett, leaned against the lockers with a smug look on her face, clearly trying to impress her companion at Caroline’s expense.
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