“Trust me, I know. It killed me to even make this call, especially when you just finished a four-day stretch.”

Going back to the hospital for a fifth day in a row was the last thing I wanted. I hadn’t even recovered from the previous four shifts, and I still had more fun planned for tonight. I wanted to take the flowers up to the roof and sprinkle the petals into the Jacuzzi and eat the chocolate-covered strawberries I’d picked up for dessert.

But I couldn’t leave Rebecca like this. She needed help; she couldn’t carry the entire unit by herself.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“I love you, and I owe you big-time,” she said and hung up.

I watched the screen turn black before shoving my phone into my pocket. When I looked at Caleb, he was finishing his beer. He set it on the table and poured my wine into his mouth like it was a shot.

“You’re leaving?”

I walked back over to the couch and sat next to him. “I know the timing isn’t good, but I have to. Rebecca needs me.”

“I need you, Whitney.”

His words were like a knife to the back of my throat, a statement I’d never heard him say unless my clothes were off, the connotation much different than this one.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“When are you going to stop feeling all this guilt? If they call, you answer. If an extra shift becomes available, you take it. This has to end.” There was anger in his eyes, and I didn’t recognize it.

“I’m working on it … you know that.”

His exhale vibrated through my ears.

And my chest was tightening in the most wicked way. “Caleb, just so you know, I’m upset by this too. It hurts me to have to leave.”

“You sure about that?” He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed another beer before leaning against the counter to look at me. “If you’re so torn up about it, then why the hell did you answer if you knew what she was going to ask?” He tossed the metal cap on the island.

“Because it’s my job.”

“Your job isn’t to pick up everyone else’s pieces and clean up their mess. Or to answer your phone every time the goddamn thing rings. Or to work yourself to death, too exhausted on your days off to barely even eat, like tonight. But you do all those things, Whitney.”

My hands began to shake. “You took a client’s call in the middle of sushi. You’re just as married to your job, probably even more so than me.”

He sighed. “That’s different.”

“Oh God.” I moved to the other side of the kitchen, holding the corner of the counter. “Now, we’re going to play double standards?”