12. Revenge

I step into the ER just as my shift is about to start. "Evi, HR wants to see you."

I glance up to see Mara standing near the nurses' station, arms crossed, her usual cool smile in place. We keep it professional, but everyone knows we don't like each other.

I frown. "Why?"

She shrugs, already turning away. "They didn’t say."

Something about the way she says it makes my stomach twist, but I shake it off and head to the elevators.

When I reach the HR office, I knock lightly and wait.

"Come in," a voice calls from the other side.

Pushing the door open, I step inside. "You wanted to see me?" My confusion is obvious in my voice.

One of the HR representatives, a middle-aged man with neatly combed hair and thin-rimmed glasses, gestures toward a chair.

"Yes, Evi. Please, have a seat."

I sit down, my hands clasped tightly in my lap as I wait for him to speak, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

The man exhales, folding his hands on the desk between us. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes—pity, maybe.

"I'm sorry, Evi, but we have to let you go."

My stomach drops. "What do you mean?" I ask, a nervous tension creeping up my spine.

His voice is steady, almost too composed. "You're fired."

I blink, my breath hitching. "What?!" My voice comes out sharp. "Why?"

"We can no longer use you," he says, his tone firm but devoid of emotion.

I stare at him, trying to process his words. "But we're always short on staff," I argue, my voice tight. A sick feeling twists in my stomach. "Is this because of Dr. Smitz?"

His expression doesn’t change. "That would be highly unprofessional," he replies smoothly. "Whatever is going on between you and Dr. Smitz is none of my business."

I let out a slow breath, my hands curling into fists in my lap. There's no point in arguing. I nod, forcing myself to stay composed. "When do I leave?" I ask, shifting my gaze to the floor.

"Immediately."

My head snaps up. "But—"

"You’ll receive six months’ severance pay," he cuts in, his voice calm but final. "Everything will be handled according to protocol. But as I said, we can no longer use you at this hospital."

His words land like a punch, knocking the air from my lungs. There's nothing left to say.

I nod stiffly and rise from my chair, my legs feeling unsteady beneath me. Without another word, I turn and walk out, shutting the door behind me with a little more force than usually.

The second I’m in the hallway, the numbness is replaced by a rush of anger. My pulse pounds in my ears as I storm toward the stairs, taking them two at a time down to the first floor.

I don’t bother knocking. I slam Wes’s office door open so hard it bounces against the wall.

"You got me fired?!"

My eyes flick between him and Mara, who’s seated in front of his desk. Her smirk is smug, satisfied—like she’s been waiting for this moment.

She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t have to. With a slow, deliberate movement, she rises from the chair and strides past me.

I barely register the door clicking shut behind her before I turn back to Wes, my fury bubbling over.

"Seriously, Wes? You got me fired? Because I broke up with you?"

He smirks, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the desk, fingers intertwined like he’s enjoying every second of this.

"You think I have the power to do that?" His voice is smooth, almost amused. Then he leans back, his chair creaking slightly as he studies me with feigned innocence.

I step forward without hesitation, my palms slamming down on the desk as I meet his gaze head-on. "I know you do."

His smirk widens, but there’s something darker in his eyes now—something cold. "Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you slept with your ex."

The words hit like a slap, but I don’t flinch. I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Instead, my fingers dig into the wood of his desk, my nails pressing against the surface as I exhale sharply.

"You're pathetic!' I say, leaving the room as fast as I stormed inside.

I practically sprint to my locker, yanking it open with shaking hands. I shove everything into my bag without caring if anything gets crushed—I just need to get out of here. Out of this hospital.

The second I step outside, I pull out my phone and text Brenda, asking her to come over.

By the time I reach my house, she’s already there, leaning against my front door with her arms crossed.

"Hey, stranger. Thought you got kidnapped or something," she says, arching a brow. There’s a teasing lilt to her voice, but underneath it, I can hear the unspoken 'You’ve been avoiding me'.

I let out a long breath, unlocking the door and brushing past her. "You slept with him, didn’t you?" she asks, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her.

I roll my eyes, tossing my bag onto the couch.
"I broke up with Wes and—" My voice falters. I swallow hard, exhaling shakily. "I got fired."

Brenda freezes mid-step. "You got fired?"

Ignoring the way my chest tightens at the words, I walk straight to the kitchen, yanking open the fridge. I grab a bottle of wine, not bothering with a glass.

"My god, Evi." Brenda follows me, leaning against the counter as I twist the cap off and take a long sip. "What the hell happened?"

I swallow, the burn of the alcohol doing nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. "I slept with Bill." The words feel heavy, like saying them out loud solidifies the mess I’ve made.

Brenda doesn’t even blink. "I know."

I frown, my grip tightening around the bottle. "You know?"

She shrugs. "Evi, I’ve known you for years. You’ve been acting weird ever since he showed up. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together."

A humorless laugh escapes me. "Well, Wes put them together too. And now, I’m fired."

"I never liked him," she mutters, shaking her head.

I sigh, taking the bottle with me as I walk to the living room. Brenda follows, quiet for once, watching as I drop onto the couch.

I bring the bottle to my lips and take another long sip, letting my head fall back against the cushions. "I had everything." A hollow laugh slips out. "Everything." I shake my head, exhaling sharply. "And now? No Wes, no job—" I hesitate, my throat tightening. "No Bill."

Brenda sits beside me, pulling her legs up onto the couch. "Do you even love Wes?" she asks carefully.

I scoff. "No, I don't."

"And the job? You hated that place, Evi."

I stay quiet, staring at the ceiling. She’s not wrong. But it still hurts.

She nudges my arm. "And Bill?"

I close my eyes, gripping the bottle a little tighter. "He left."

Brenda leans back with a sigh. "Then screw him too."