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Trinity could still picture the blood soaking through her shoes, the red spreading agonizingly fast through the beige fabric. She hadn’t bleached them yet and knew it would be a pain to clean, but it was more of a reminder. A reminder that she should’ve known better—that she should’ve done better.
She could barely stare at Yolanda for the rest of the shift, scared that she’d see a trace of disappointment. What they had was no strings attached. Harmless fun. No labels. Yet, Trinity hadn’t spared a romantic glance at another woman who wasn’t Yolanda. She only hoped Yolanda did the same.
Whatever Yolanda felt or did, it must have been impossible for her to feel the same now. There was no way losing a patient wasn’t a turn-off, and fuck, Trinity was messed up for even thinking like that.
The patient was a woman the same age as Trinity. Her blood spilled all over the white floors and everyone’s clothes. It took ten minutes to scrub the sticky maroon off Trinity’s hands, but she still sees it. She still feels it when she and Yolanda undress in her bed. She still smells the iron pungency of the shoes she left in her doorway, begging to be noticed.
Trinity shifted her naked body under the covers, letting the cheap sheets scratch her skin. She had no idea why Yolanda always came over to her apartment. The bed squeaked and creaked with every motion they made, the mattress was lumpy and probably as old as she was, and the walls were paper-thin. Trinity almost felt bad for Dennis. Key word: almost. The pleasure usually overrode any guilt she felt.
That never stopped Yolanda. Trinity expected her to get bored. It’s been four months since they started their arrangement, yet somehow, she hadn’t scared her off. Maybe because other than sex, they knew absolutely nothing about each other, and Yolanda liked it that way.
Trinity didn’t.
The no strings attached thing was starting to bite her in the ass, because the more time she spent, the more she wanted to defy it. She was always known to break the rules, even when she was a kid, and as much as she wants to think she’s not that little girl anymore, she stares at Yolanda and wants to be. Damn her stupid emotional complex.
“You okay?” Yolanda asked, snapping her out of the limbo.
Right, it must’ve been at least five minutes of them silently staring up at her cracked ceiling. She wondered what Yolanda was thinking about.
“Yeah. Just a rough shift. You know how it is.” She refrained from squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. Of course, she knows how it fucking is. Are you stupid?
“Well, you can always talk through it. There’s nothing beneficial about cursing yourself for it. Just know what you did wrong and approve upon it.”
“What a professional answer.”
Yolanda turned her head. “Was that not the answer you wanted?”
Trinity felt a lump of emotion crawl up her throat. It was the basic answer. It was a fine answer if she were a coworker, except that Trinity wanted Yolanda to reassure her that everything would be okay. That it would be fine to weep on her shoulder like an idiot, and not to be burdened about how it would affect their work relationship. She wanted to feel loved by her, and she wanted to feel like she deserved that love.
“No, it was, uh, great answer,” Trinity replied.
By the expression on Yolanda’s face, she didn’t believe her. That was fair enough. Even Trinity didn’t believe herself.
“Listen to it, then,” Yolanda said. She lifted the sheets off her, exposing the curves of her body that Trinity studied again. Her eyes almost glazed over at the beauty.
It wasn’t until the bed creaked and Yolanda got up that Trinity’s daze ceased.
“Wait, you’re leaving?”
Yolanda grabbed her black underwear from the floor and casually stepped into it, like she wasn’t clawing to slip it off an hour ago. “I figure you want time to process it alone. It’s important for you to do that.”
Alone.
Usually, Trinity appeased to follow Yolanda’s every command, but she didn’t want to be alone. It’d scorch her to be alone with only the remembrance of the day.
“Is that what you want?” Trinity asked.
Yolanda clasped her bra and tilted her head, making her wavy hair cascade down her shoulders. “Why do you care about what I want?”
Trinity clenched her jaw from blurting out the obvious answer. She leaned on the headboard and grabbed the sheet to cover her chest as a wave of self-consciousness flooded her.
“Because I care about you.”
If Yolanda was surprised by her response, she didn’t hesitate in her movements as she put on her navy blue scrub pants. All she did was swallow harder than usual.
Trinity received that reaction from most people. Whether it was fear, frustration, or sadness, she didn’t want to know. Nevertheless, she’d seen it all her life. Like hard candy, people cracked her hardened exterior and savored the taste until it gave them a toothache, and the sugared fragments stuck in their throats, making each swallow hard. So much so that they regret ever tasting it at all.
Yolanda was now dressed in her scrub top, and her hairband was placed between the soft lips that Trinity kissed minutes ago. Yolanda gathered her hair to put into a bun, and her teeth clenched the band harder.
If there were any chance Yolanda would say anything more than professional, she would’ve spoken it by now. Whenever she got dressed, she wasn’t Yolanda anymore—just Dr. Garcia. Trinity missed her chance, and yet she still sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
Trinity’s apology caused Yolanda to stiffen.
“I’m sorry that I’m not the girl you think I am. The cool one who acts fine under pressure and about our situationship or whatever you think this is. I feel too much. I get in my own way. I’m biased. I’m headstrong. I fight like a bitch for the people I believe in. And I won’t ever be like you as much as I’ll always aim to be because, as much as I desperately want to, I can’t process this alone right now.”
Yolanda’s arms dropped to the side, and her hair fell down her back. She took the hairband out of her mouth and turned to connect gazes with Trinity. Trinity didn’t realize how much she missed staring into her eyes until Yolanda avoided them.
“Don’t waste your time trying to be me,” Yolanda said. “I still see light in your eyes. Don’t let that flicker away.”
“Then, stay.”
Trinity couldn’t remember the last time she begged someone for anything. And if she did, she couldn’t remember the answer being anything other than “no”. She braced herself for it and almost received it when Yolanda closed her eyes.
“You’re too smart for this, Santos. I know you are.”
“Too smart for what exactly?”
“For wanting something more out of me. Because if you do, it’ll be a wreck. We’ll be each other’s burdens. That’s what we specifically agreed on not doing.”
The professionalism. The brusqueness. Like what she said was a fucking email.
Trinity bit her tongue to fight back the tears that were already on the brink of slipping. “Then why do you keep coming back? I’m just a good lay?” That used to be enough for her. She wasn’t sure when that changed.
Yolanda opened her eyes with a hardened gaze. “Don’t push our sex away like we don’t have a good time.”
“Then don’t act like it’d burden you to stay when I ask you to.”
Yolanda slightly shook her head, like she couldn’t understand her. “And what would I do to make you feel better? Fuck you again?”
Trinity clenched the sheets with the same tight grip she held her patient hours ago. “I want you to care.”
“That’s why I’m leaving.”
“I want you to care about me. Not about what you want.”
“I don’t want to care about you.”
Silence.
Trinity tried to open her mouth, but her body and soul malfunctioned, as if what Yolanda said was an error in her system.
The older woman couldn’t meet her eyes. She looked down at the ratty carpet and then at the doorway. She bit her lip. Trinity could see the war in her gaze. She was thinking about leaving, but her legs didn’t move.
“I—” Yolanda sighed and rubbed her face. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”
“If that’s how you feel, then go,” Trinity muttered and then shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to burden you to stay when you don’t want to, especially because you already got everything you wanted out of me, right?”
Trinity looked toward her window, which showed her the view of a bright streetlight against the dark background of the night sky. Nothing less, nothing more.
As a tear streaked down her cheek, she secretly hoped that Yolanda would leave now. The only thing that would make this conversation worse was if she ended up seeing her cry.
“I would give anything to care as much as you do about people, Santos.” Trinity didn’t stare her way, so Yolanda continued, “You try too hard not to feel. I have to try hard to feel something. I’m a hardass, and I keep people far away, but not far enough away that I can’t reach them when I need to. That’s what I do with you. That’s why you deserve better.”
Trinity scoffed. “So, you’re just waiting for me to break things off instead of trying to step up and make this work?”
“I feel for you,” Yolanda said, like it’d kill her to do so.
Trinity turned her head in surprise, showing her the tears brimming in her eyes.
“I try not to. But I do. And I hate that I do because this will never work. We both know that. Why waste efforts on trying?”
Trinity swallowed a lump in her throat. “Why don’t you think this will work?”
“Santos—”
“If we have both the physical and emotional connection, then I don’t understand—”
“We’re broken!” Yolanda yelled.
Trinity flinched.
“Have you not understood what I’ve been saying? I don’t want us to be broken together in a relationship. It’s not healthy. It’s not right,” Yolanda said, lowering her voice.
Trinity leaned up. “Okay, then let’s start by not being broken. We’ll tell each other something about ourselves.”
“Like therapy?” Yolanda asked, laughing in between the words at Trinity’s supposed audacity and solution.
“Exactly.” Trinity glared at her, but behind the rage was desperation.
Yolanda must see the cracks in her gaze because her shoulders sag, knowing she couldn’t get out of this. “I both love and hate your utter determination.”
Trinity patted the area next to her. Yolanda stared at it and gently sat down, the bed creaking as she did.
Trinity sighed. “One thing about me is that I’m very guarded, but I ultimately need validation,” she mumbled. “And I’ve clawed up mountains to get there. I’ve been bruised, I’ve been yelled at, and I’ve been punished. But I do it to help others like me. I do it so as not to repeat the cycle.” Trinity bit her tongue before her voice wavered, “And when I see a woman like that in a position I was once in, and I do everything I can but can’t save her, it fucks me up. It makes me question whether I’m good enough. It makes me wonder if I would eventually end up like her. So, I pathetically need someone.” Trinity sniffled and looked at Yolanda, whose expression had turned soft. “I need someone to tell me I’m good enough. And I curse myself that I need it because I’m strong, and I’ve relied on myself for so long that it feels pathetic. It feels weak.”
Trinity wiped her nose. “I go to Trauma Counseling. That helps. But, that’s why I’ve been so…” She drifted off, not able to finish her sentence—not able to admit she was broken.
Yolanda nodded, registering the information with her mouth in a fine line, as if she were listening to a patient’s symptoms.
“Sorry,” Trinity apologized again, realizing that in her attempt to get closer to her, she ended up placing her feelings as a burden, which was what Yolanda wanted her not to do. “You can leave if you want. I feel a little better.”
Yolanda leaned on the headboard of her bed and petted the top of Trinity’s head. “Thank you for telling me.”
Trinity’s eyes widened. Whether it was just the right thing to say or if she meant it, her words still made Trinity’s heart leap.
“Not many people are in a position to understand us, Santos.” The corner of Yolanda’s mouth lifted into an almost smirk. “But I do. Even though I don’t show it and can’t show it often, I hope that still counts for something.”
“It does.” Trinity shifted closer to Yolanda. “What about your one thing? What’s something about yourself that I don’t know?”
Yolanda shifted a smidge away, and Trinity quickly reverted to her previous position. She was too eager, just like she was on her first day, and look what happened then.
Yolanda retracted her hand and placed it in her lap. Just as Trinity realized she fucked up her chance, Yolanda admitted, “I got into surgery because I thought fixing people would make me whole.”
Trinity watched her eyes flutter everywhere in the room, but not next to her. “And does it? Make you whole?”
Yolanda pressed her lips together. “It makes me strong.” She didn’t say anything more as she got up from the bed.
Panic flooded Trinity’s system, but she tried not to show it as Yolanda shoved her feet into her shoes. Technically, Yolanda did answer Trinity’s question, but Trinity was selfish. She always yearned for more than she received, especially from the older woman.
“You should get some rest,” Yolanda said, double-knotting her laces. “Don’t want my best student to be asleep on shift.”
She wasn’t sure if she should’ve taken that as a compliment or a dig. That was just Dr. Garcia’s way of saying things.
“Sure. Yeah, I will.”
When Yolanda put her hair into her bun and retrieved all of her things, she studied at Trinity, naked and alone in her bed.
“See you tomorrow, Trinity.”
Trinity didn’t get to say anything about her first name being used before Yolanda walked out of her room. A minute later, the door closed, and the night breeze welcomed her presence.
Trinity sighed until she ripped the covers off her and dressed in her pajamas, staring at her shoes. She grabbed the laces and walked into the living room, where Dennis was watching television at a too-loud volume, presumably blocking out the noises he had heard an hour ago.
Spotting Trinity, he turned it down several decibels. “Seemed like you guys had fun.”
She opened the little storage closet they had and lifted a blue bucket, placing it in the kitchen sink and watching the cold water rise. “Yeah, it was fine.”
When it was filled, she dunked her shoes in. They floated on the surface, begging not to be drowned. She must’ve stared at it for too long because Dennis was right next to her, and she flinched at his sudden appearance.
“Jesus Christ, Huckleberry. You need a collar with a bell on it.”
Dennis crossed his arms and searched her gaze. The stray she brought in was too good at seeing through people.
“You still thinking about what happened today, or does this have something to do with Dr. Garcia tearing up when she was leaving?”
Trinity stiffened. “She was crying?”
“Almost. Most of her emotions come with an ‘almost’. But this felt different.”
Trinity shook her head as the feelings she thought she buried came to drown her like the stupid shoes she couldn’t stop regarding.
“I wanted her to stay. She didn’t want to. We argued. I told her something about myself, and she told me something about herself. Then she left as if it’d kill her to stay any longer, but not before she told me she cared and said my first name.”
Dennis nodded, letting Trinity scoff.
“She’s so guarded. When we kiss, when we have sex, when we’re having fun—it doesn’t matter. I had to force something out of her tonight, basically guilt-trip her. I feel shit for doing it, but I don’t want to keep instinctively giving all of myself to her so she can offhandedly give me a single piece back.”
Trinity then shook her head at the absurdity she must feel if she’s admitting it to Dennis. “It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have told you.”
“You can always tell me.”
Trinity bit her tongue at the gentleness Dennis always seemed to have. She couldn’t help but envy it in a time like this.
“Dr. Garcia does care about you. I can see it, and so can everyone else in the whole ED. Sure, feelings aren’t her strong suit, but she could’ve left a lot sooner, right?”
It was true. She could’ve left earlier tonight without a care in the world. Hell, she could’ve stopped what they’ve been doing months ago.
“Maybe this single piece isn’t as offhanded as you think. Maybe it’s all she’s able to give for right now.”
“So, what should I do?” Trinity’s voice cracked. “Keep waiting for her to finally let go of her fears and want me? Wait until we’re not broken anymore?” She dunked the shoes in deeper because of her frustration. “Or maybe I should just move on and finally live my life without wanting someone in it to tell me I’m worth the love I wish for them to give me?”
Trinity let go of her grasp on the shoes, lifting her numb hands out of the cold water. Dennis handed her the dish towel that hung on the oven handle.
“Whatever you choose to do, everyone will understand,” Dennis said. When Trinity finally looked back at him, he smirked. “Everyone.”
Even Yolanda.
Trinity’s hand brushed Dennis’s warm ones as she took the towel, wiping her hands on the scratchy fabric.
He shivered at her touch and wiped the droplet that landed on his skin. “You working tomorrow?”
“Yep.” Once her hands were dry, she threw the towel on the counter. Dennis hung it back on the handle nicely. “You’re off, right?”
“Yep.”
Trinity felt a sense of relief. He deserved a break. Recently, Dr. Robby had been working him like a dog. Guess that’s what happens when you’re a favorite.
She shuddered off the chill when reminded of Yolanda’s hardened stare.
“Well, goodnight, I guess. Have fun sleeping in,” Trinity said, and Dennis tilted his head at her, looking between her and the shoes.
“Don’t you have to wear these tomorrow?”
“I’ll wake up early to bleach it away, then dry it.”
No, she wouldn’t. Dennis didn’t believe her either, but he nodded.
“Okay. Goodnight, Trin.”
“Night, Dennis.”
She left the kitchen with some weight lifted off her shoulders. Her fears and complications weren’t completely gone, but she figured they never truly would be. She’d just need to live with them.
Trinity flicked her light switch off and settled herself in bed, looking up at the ceiling and following the cracks branching out from one another.
Yolanda cracked her shell, just like hard candy. And just like hard candy, Trinity was starting to crack hers, too.
+++++
Light filtered through the window as she peered her eyes open. Fuck, she definitely woke up late if the sun was out.
Quickly, she put on her black scrubs and stumbled out of her room. Her eyes widened when she realized she had forgotten to clean her shoes.
She raced into the kitchen to find the bucket not in the sink. Whipping her head around, she finally spotted them with a note underneath.
Trinity walked to the shoes, which were once bloody, now a shade lighter. The stains weren’t completely gone, but they were faded. It’d take time for them to heal, like things always seemed to. She glanced down at the note in Dennis’s handwriting.
You helped me more than you know. I decided to do the same. Thanks for being a good friend, Trin. You’re worth all the love I have and give for you. And please, for the love of God, don’t make fun of me for this, or I will pour more blood on your shoes.
Trinity smiled at the note, biting her cheek to stop her vision from getting blurry.
Whatever she decided to do, whether she’d accept her situation or move on from it, she’d have people in her corner. She wouldn’t be alone anymore. And she’d be worth her decision.
Trinity took a deep breath, pocketed the note, and put on her shoes.