“Heard about the party that’s coming up next weekend?” Tiwa asks, tying up her short dreadlocks into a ponytail.
“What party?” I ask. I’m always the last one to find out about what’s going on in this hospital. And every time, Tiwa is the one who gets to tell me what’s going on, what’s about to happen, and what has already happened in this hospital.Tiwa is Nigerian, with a light brown chocolate complexion and natural dark, red lips. She’s not that tall, almost the same height as me and she’s really friendly. We hit it off immediately when we saw each other a few years ago, and we’re like best buds in this hospital. She’s a registered nurse now. We first met when she was a practical nurse but she’s now a fully registered nurse.Tiwa left Nigeria about 8 years ago to study nursing and to work as a nurse in the United States and finally, she’s living her dreams and I’m happy for her.“I know you love working as a nurse and I know you’re oftentimes occupied, but I feel like you’re overworking yourself, darling.”Why does everyone think I’m overworking myself? And it sucks more to know they’re telling the truth. I overwork myself to escape memories that keep coming back even though I’ve pushed them far away to the back of my head.If I’m not in the hospital taking extra shifts, I’m being dragged to clubs by Monique to have “fun.” And on rare occasions, I’m sitting at home binge-watching movies and series on N*****x and A****n Prime.My friends think I’m not living. They think I should be out there doing what every 26-year-old is doing. And that means hitting clubs, hooking up with strangers, sunbathing every weekend, and going on expensive trips and vacations.Back in Italy, that was my life, except for the hooking-up part. I was a closeted romantic, I believed in love, and I made sure my family didn’t know about it until they figured it out themselves. To them, being a romantic is a sign of weakness, and no woman in the family is supposed to show weakness and they made sure to make us that way. Not to show any ounce of weakness by falling in love.“Women are supposed to be the dictators of their lives and their love life. A woman should never show weakness to a man and should carry herself like the queen she is. Love is for the weak. Men should beg for your attention and your time.” My mother made sure we remember these words and never forget them. My mom taught me and my sister that falling in love was for the weak and the last thing you’d want to be is weak.I kept on asking myself how the hell she and my dad got married only to find out my mother was betrothed to my dad on the day of her 18th birthday. Her parents were filthy rich, but they thought she was better off married sooner than later. She was her parents’ only daughter and she had three older brothers who treated her like she was nothing. My father never loved my mother, but they learned to tolerate each other and respect each other. Surprisingly, my father grew to care for and cherish my mother. She made a name for herself, and the last person you’d want to mess with in my family is my mother. She never repeats her words twice, not for any reason and she never threatens. If she said she’s going to ruin your life, she will.Me and my siblings were brought up to listen and to do whatever my parents told us. The food we ate, the clothes we wore, the countries we visited, when to take a break from the family business, and the men to date, were all determined by our parents. It was suffocating that I couldn’t breathe.I came to this country with one thing in mind, to do whatever I please, whatever the fuck that makes me happy and that means living the exact opposite of the life I once knew in Italy. But yet I still walk down the street looking over my shoulder, feeling as if my past has finally caught up with me. I still live my life like my family still had their clutches on me, not willing to let me go. I go to parties and I scan the places before I step in, just to be sure none of my family’s acquaintances are there and then they’d recognize me and soon enough my family would know of my whereabouts.I still live in fear. No matter the countless times I’ve told myself that my family cannot find me, a part of me keeps reminding me they can find me if they want to, they just don’t care enough. It’s been four years since I left, and I still feel like sooner or later, my past is going to catch up with me.Sooner or later.And I hate that I’m always vigilant, always looking, scanning, just trying to be invisible as much as I can. I remembered the day Monique asked me why I was always so observant. She claimed I was always looking for something that was not there. I gave her the only answer that crept into my head that instant. “Life is a scary place.”I pull out a rubber band from the pockets of my scrubs and I tie my hair up in a loose ponytail.“Robyn?” Tiwa calls for my attention.I sigh and turn to look at my friend. “Okay. I hear you. I get it, I’m living my life like a lonely person, but I’m not lonely.” Which is true.“Okay…”“I just don’t care much about hospital gossip.”“Who’s talking about hospital gossip, Robyn? I’m talking about the way you’re living. You need to take a breather, my friend.”“Got it.”Tiwa expels her breath. “And about the party, everyone’s talking about it. It’s been a long time since Saint José did something remotely fun, not to mention a party.”“Is it a party though?”“It’s a party. The board announced it on Monday, I think. You were busy in your head, you may not have heard about it.”“What kind of party though?” I ask, not a bit interested, and Tiwa knows that.“I think it’s for the hospital’s new stockholder. I hear he's a very attractive man.” Noah butts in, strolling into the locker room and opening his locker, and tossing in his work bag.Tiwa and I turn to stare at Noah who’s already dressed in his scrubs.“You took your uniform home?”“Nope. Mine got damaged. This is new. Got it from the queen herself.” Noah says, brushing his hair out of his face.Noah is also a practical nurse like me. We are friends and he’s a really jovial guy, a little effeminate but that’s the thing that makes Noah really cute. He’s part Canadian and part American. He’s blonde, pale skin, a little on the lean side and he’s shorter than me.“You’re late.” Tiwa points out.“Yeah. I know. Shouldn’t we be out there working though?” Noah asks, then he turns to look at me. “And how come you don’t know the hospital’s having a party to celebrate and to introduce their newest stockholder?”“Because Robyn doesn’t have a life, that’s why.” A high-pitched voice says. I can recognize that voice anywhere even with blindfolds on.Caroline Peters, one of the board members' daughters. She’s a registered nurse, soon to be promoted to head nurse because of her mother’s position even though everyone knows she doesn’t deserve to be here.God, I fucking hate this bitch.And the hate is mutual.Every day of her life, she always finds a way to annoy the fuck out of my life. She doesn’t want me here and she doesn’t fail to remind me every day.I roll my eyes and slam my locker shut, not failing to give Caroline Peters the stink eye.“Eat shit and fall off a fucking bridge, Caroline.” I say to her, flashing her a devilish grin.Caroline smirks as she looks at my two friends before turning to look at me. “That mouth of yours is the reason you won’t get a permanent job here.”“We will see about that,” I say, taking two steps toward her, and then I mutter under my breath. “Butt licker.”“What did you call me?” Caroline asks, puffing up her shoulders like she’s ready for a fight.“Let’s get out of here.” Tiwa says, hand around mine as she pulls me to start walking.“I thought as much.” Caroline says.I shake my head at her as I follow Tiwa out of the locker room, with Noah behind us.My lunch sits on my table cold and sad looking as I go through my phone, reading several articles about Dominique Gray and his Enterprise. There are not a lot of articles concerning his life or his personal life, except that he's 32 years old and he was born and raised in New York by an Italian mother and a father of French and American descent. I’ve read countless articles about him and nothing is interesting about his life other than the fact that he’s wealthy and he owns a lot of properties in the state and across the country. I skip through several pictures of him in different custom-made expensive suits, wondering how on earth he’s 32 years old. This man looks like he’s 28 and I can’t spot any imperfections on his face in his pictures and even in real life. He actually looks better in real life than in pictures, I’m going to give him that.Even in pictures, the man doesn’t smile much. You can tell there’s so much hiding behind that nonchalant and stoic look when you stare at him.
One thing St. José’s staff are pretty good at is throwing good hospital parties. Ever since I started working here, St. José has thrown at least five parties to commemorate different events, I’ve only attended one, thus making the second time I’m gracing one of their parties.For a girl who lived an extravagant life and a life of luxury, I find parties like this boring. Actually, I find almost every party boring except the type where I had to hit the club on the weekends with my girls singing and getting drunk. There’s nothing fun about parties like these. There’s just talking, drinking, laughing at old boring jokes, more talking, and maybe two people flirting, and there is the part where you have to pretend like you’re having the best time of your life.I push my hair to the side, letting it fall on my shoulder as I listen to Noah talk about hospital gossip. He already had Monique hooked as she smiled and laughed at whatever thing he was telling her. Tiwa is going through her phone,
The air is cold outside. I run my palms up and down my arms as I look down the road with different cars parked on the curb and in the parking lot.I had to step out. I had to breathe in fresh air because if I’d stayed in there any minute longer, I may have caused a heartache for myself and maybe caused a scene.I still can’t believe he's in there as the hospital’s new shareholder. In fact, I thought after the party Monique invited me to, I was never going to see him again. But hell fucking no, he just happened to walk right back into my life and he’s making me question my own sanity.Why can’t he just go away and never come back?“Red does look good on you.” A familiar voice says.I turn around, coming face to face with him for the second time in three weeks. I lock eyes with his ocean-blue eyes, wondering how on earth he’s always so calm when he’s fucking corny. I’m not dumb, behind this whole calm exterior, I can swear on my dad’s life that there’s a whole different man in there. An
“Okay, so I’m free to say Dominique Gray truly wants to fuck you?” Monique says on our way home that night.She’s behind the wheel because I’m too frustrated to drive. I’ve been cursing, hissing, groaning ever since Monique started driving us back home. He’s succeeded. He’s succeeded in planting himself and his arrogance in my head and I just want to get him out.“Please don’t say the F-word, it’s disgusting.” I groan, turning so that I’m leaning my back against the car window.“Yeah? You say the F-word all the time, Madam Mary.”I roll my eyes but smile.“He’s fucking disgusting,” I mutter under my breath, staring out the window at the nightlife.“How so?”“How could he want sex from me in exchange for his car that I smashed?” That must sound fucked up.“So you’ve finally confessed you smashed his car?” Monique grins as she asks.I shake my head, smiling. “You’re annoying.”“So what makes you think he wants sex in exchange for his car? He’s not that loose. He’s a man with principles.
“Hey, honey bunch. I don’t think I will be able to come home tonight. Be safe and don’t miss me too much. Kisses.” I sit on the bench outside St. José as I listen to Monique’s voicemail that she’d left on my phone when I was working.I roll my eyes at the voice note she’d left and smile. Monique had told me she’d met a guy at the gym a few weeks ago. She thought the guy was hot, she showed me his picture and I felt like he was okay. Maybe a Casanova, I didn’t tell her that actually. He was too good-looking for his own sake. I think he’d ask her out last week and she gladly accepted.It’s not in my shoes to tell her Mr. Hot and Gorgeous is not the one, she’s going to have to find out sooner. I assured myself that. Monique believes in love, in fact, she’d always wanted to find the right guy, the perfect one for her. But the men she’s been dating are the opposite of what she wants for herself.There was a time I told her to take a break from relationships and their drama, she’d told me s
As if he can feel a pair of eyes staring at him, Dominique turns to look at me, eyes locking with mine for a long moment in an intense gaze. He furrows his eyebrows, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips as he shifts his gaze to Doctor Sanders who’s watching me patiently. Doctor Sanders slowly turns around to stare at what’s got my attention which only makes Dominique stare at Doctor Sanders with squinted eyes. I know that look, I just don’t want to believe it.Why on earth would he be concerned with who I’m out with?“You two know each other?” Doctor Sanders turns to look at me as he asks.“Not really.”“You were a little… you know, surprised to see him. And distracted.”“Oh. It’s nothing.” I assure the doctor, locking eyes with Dominique again for a second as I look away.Why is he here? Why the fuck is he here?He’s with a woman. I can’t tell what she looks like because she’s backing me, but from her backview, she sure looks like a woman with class. Why would I expect less from Do
DOMINIQUE“Aren’t we gonna address the elephant in the room?” Camilla asks, turning around in her seat with her judgmental look.“And if I may ask, what elephant is that?”“Dom, you know what I’m talking about.”Oh, I know what she’s talking about, I’m just not willing to talk about it with her.I turn to look at her, eyebrows furrowing as I run my gaze over my sister. Camilla takes after our mother, brown eyes, olive skin, chestnut brown hair, and she’s petite just like our mother.“You two seemed like you were having a heated argument.”“Are you gonna drop it or should I be forced to ignore you?”“God, you’re an asshole,” Camilla says, shaking her head as she crosses her arms against her chest.“Why exactly are you in New York anyway? Shouldn’t you be back in LA preparing for your wedding?” I ask.It was a shocker when Camilla visited New York a few months ago with a diamond ring on her finger and a man by her side. We all thought Camilla was never going to get married, at least any
“One Diet Coke for you…” Monique places the coke in front of me. “A milkshake for you, Tiwa.” Monique plants a cup of milkshake on the table in front of Tiwa.“Thank you,” Tiwa says, her attention focused on the Jenga tower that we’ve built. “And… an extra large box of pizza for all of us.” Monique drops the pizza on the table as she sits down.“Easy or you’re gonna make all our hard work topple to the ground,” I say, slowly slipping out a Jenga block and grinning.“How the fuck are you 26?” Monique asks me, opening the box of pizza.“Go fuck yourself,” I say with a big smile on my face as I watch Tiwa pull out a block and everything comes tumbling down.“Oh shit!” I chuckle, both palms covering my mouth.“Oh, my God.” Tiwa giggles.“And I just fucking won. Come on now, pay up, hon.” I smile, palms open for my winning prize.“You guys bet on this?” Monique asks, a slice of pizza in her hand as she takes a bite.Tiwa groans and pulls out a hundred-dollar bill from her bag and she slam