A Love Like This by Kahlen Aymes Page B

believe
you’re being so selfish!”
    “I’m selfish? I let you run off across the
Goddamn country on a moment’s notice! It isn’t like we can afford
this type of shit, anyway! Ellie needs to grow the fuck up.”
    “You have no idea what it’s like to be
dumped by someone you love! It’s never happened to you, so you
can’t understand what she’s going through! You’re being a dick,
Ryan!”
    “She doesn’t trust the guy! He might as well
screw around if he gets accused regardless of what he does! Jesus
Christ!”
    “I’m sorry if I can’t make it home in time
for the freaking schedule! You’re acting like a spoiled brat!”
    “I’m acting like a man who works eighty
hours a week and never sees his wife!” he spat angrily.
    “There’s always next month.”
    “That’s beside the point, and it wasn’t what
I said! Just forget it!”
    “Ryan… I…”
    Ellie came out of the bathroom, her face
swollen and blotchy, letting her cell phone drop, unbidden, from
her hand before she landed on the couch next to me and started to
sob quietly, shaking her head. I reached out to take her hand in
mine. Ryan would just have to understand.
    I was heartbroken for her and trembling in
the wake of the angry exchange with my husband when he sighed
heavily on the other end of the line.
    “When do you think you’ll be home, then?”
His voice was quieter, defeated in response to the sound of Ellie’s
misery in the background.
    My heart ached at the tone in his voice. He
missed me which was the crux of his anger. He was always generous
with others, but he was over-worked, impatient and probably horny
as hell.
    “I’m not sure. But, I love you.”
    He didn’t respond right away and I turned my
back to Ellie so she wouldn’t read my expression.
    “Ryan, I said I love you .”
    “Yeah.”
    “Please don’t make me feel guilty for being
here.”
    “I gotta go.” He ended the call before I
could respond and I glanced up at my friend.
    “Shit!” I sighed as I threw the phone down
next to me.
    “I’m sorry, Julia. I’m ruining your
relationship as well as my own.”
    “He’ll get over it. He’s exhausted and not
himself.” My words didn’t sound convincing, even to me. “What did
Harris have to say?”
    “He won’t take my calls,” she said miserably
before another torrent of tears began. I put my arms around her and
stroked her hair as she sobbed against my shoulder.
     

    “Jane!” I shouted as I ran in with the
paramedics. We were wheeling the patient in from the ambulance
bay.
    “Room 5.” I pointed in the direction I
needed them to go. Barry and Neil were the best paramedics around.
I’d seen their skills many times in the months I’d been at St.
Vincent’s, and as far as I knew, none of the others could touch
them. Many patients made it to the hospital alive that might have
died with others attending them.
    “Gunshot to the upper left chest, close
range 22 through the upper lobe and possibly out the back. We
didn’t have time to check for an exit wound, but there is a chance
of spinal injury. Reflexes are dead in the legs. The lung is
punctured, we’ve aspirated, and started saline,” Barry rattled off
the details, while Neil gave the task of bagging over to Jane. “BP:
seventy over thirty, pulse is weak, pupils are fixed and dilated.
He’s in shock and crashed on the way in. We managed to resuscitate,
but it’s a bad one, Ryan.”
    The patient was gurgling, literally drowning
in his own blood, and I took over pressing the gauze into the
wound. It was quickly saturating.
    “How long?” I asked as we wheeled him into
the room.
    “20:13,” Neil responded, hanging the IV bag
on the hook above the gurney. I glanced at the clock. Time was
short. Fucking Golden Hour; survival was more likely if we could
stabilize the patient within an hour of the injury, and already 23
minutes of that was history. Adrenaline coursed through my veins
and my team launched into action as Barry and Neil