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There are a few constants in Robby’s life at this point in time.
One: Gloria will always be there to bother him when he’s already having a bad day.
Two, every day he’ll question why he hasn’t retired yet at least ten times.
Three—if looks could kill, he would be dead at the start of each shift the second you see him, and he welcomes it with a smile every time.
Today, you look at him with more malice than usual. He doesn’t even have time to stash his bag in a locker before you’re marching up to him with fire in your eyes. He only barely manages to bite back his grin—but when he knows it annoys you even more, how can he resist?
“Can we talk?” you ask the second you reach him. Robby can tell you’re barely holding back your anger, and it kind of thrills him. There’s little more he enjoys than sparring with you.
“I don’t know,” he says. “Will you let me put my things away first?”
“Oh, I don’t think you’ve earned that privilege after what you pulled.” You start walking before he gets the chance to respond, and if you were anyone else, Robby would be well within his rights to give you a good talking to—if he were anyone else, he would.
But you’re you, and Robby is Robby, so he follows you out to the ambulance bay with an undeserved smile that immediately gets the new doctors talking, even from across the ER.
“Did you hear how she talked to him?” Javadi asks, looking at Santos and Whitaker with slightly wide eyes.
“I think Abbot’s the only one that talks to him like that,” Whitaker says.
“Night shift is a different breed,” Javadi mutters.
“No, she is a different breed,” Santos says. “Don’t you guys know the tea?”
Whitaker and Javadi both turn to her.
“How do you know the tea?” Javadi asks.
“What does the tea mean?” Whitaker asks.
“Oh my god, Huckleberry. Can it be any less obvious that you grew up on a farm?”
“It’s gossip,” Javadi says.
He frowns. “We all started on the same day. How do you already know they have history?”
“Nurses know everything,” Santos says. “Never talk about your secrets in front of Princess and Perlah.”
Javadi stares at her. “Is that what you’re always talking about with them in Tagalog? You’re gossiping about us all?”
Santos shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Oh my god—”
“Back on topic!” Whitaker interrupts. “What kind of history do they have?”
“Oh,” Santos says, and she laughs. “They’re exes.”
Javadi’s eyes widen. Whitaker whistles. Santos smiles. All three of them glance over at the entrance to the ambulance bay.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Javadi asks.
“More like what is she yelling at him,” Santos says wryly. “You saw how she looked at him. I bet we’ll hear her giving it to Robby any second.”
They all fall silent as they listen. No yelling—not from that direction, at least. Just the usual chaos of the ER.
“…Should we get back to work?” Whitaker asks.
“Who’s gonna yell at us? Robby’s busy getting dressed down by his ex.” Santos pauses, then she laughs. “Or getting undressed by his ex—”
“Oh my god,” Javadi groans. “We should definitely get back to work.”
She starts walking off, and Whitaker passes a sympathetic look back at her as he goes to check on his own patient.
“And you wonder why I gossip with the nurses,” Santos grumbles. “You guys are no fun.”
-
Meanwhile, in the ambulance bay, you’re not exactly yelling at Robby. Not yet, at least, you think as you both come to a stop across from each other. You fold your arms across your midsection and stare him down.
“What did you get up to last night?”
Robby shrugs. “I had a few beers. Why?”
“And what after that?”
“I went to sleep,” he says. “Early morning. You know the drill.”
You laugh mirthlessly. “Not exactly.”
Robby stares at you for a second before he laughs. “What are you getting at?”
“You called my boyfriend,” you say harshly. “Actually, you called my boyfriend drunk, proceeded to harass him, and then left a very inappropriate voicemail after he hung up.”
Robby’s brows crease as he thinks, then he chuckles as he shakes his head. “No. No, I don’t think I did. That doesn’t sound like me.”
“Really?” you ask, and you pull out your phone. You scroll through your texts with your boyfriend—half of which are you apologizing profusely for Robby’s behavior—until you get to a video. You turn up the volume, hold it up, then press play.
“Brad. Chad. Jake. Michael—” he laughs for just a few seconds too long. “That’s not your name. That’s my name. And if you were me, I wouldn’t be calling you, because she would be with the right guy.”
He pauses, then says your name. “I can’t believe she’s with you. It’s like she’s trying to get back at me by getting with the most pathetic asshole possible.” He laughs again. “You’re a pathetic asshole! Y— you’re supposed to take care of her, but I never see her smiling like she did when she was with me. She never even talks about you here. If she really mattered to you, you would get her to switch off the night shift. You know, she only even switched to the night shift because she wanted to avoid me?”
Robby sighs. “I still love her. I’m pretty sure I love her more than you do, which is a little embarrassing for both of us. But I guess that’s just the way it goes, huh?”
He sighs again, louder and longer than the first.
“You’ll probably show this to her, and then she’ll show this to me, and we’ll fight in the ambulance bay like we always do.” Robby pauses once more. “Probably more passion than she shows you.”
This sigh is the most exaggerated yet.
“I’ll probably regret this in the morning. Or I might not, if it gets her to yell at me again.”
That’s the end of it. You raise your eyebrows and stare at Robby.
“Well?”
Robby purses his lips. “I guess that does sound like me.”
“Does it?” you say, higher pitched than usual as you stash your phone back in your pocket. “Do you know how embarrassing this is for me, Robby?”
“If he’s half the man you deserve, he’ll get over it.” He tilts his head. “Pretty impressive that I knew the future, though. Are we that predictable?”
You laugh in disbelief. “Michael Robinavitch, you are a grown man! You are a respected attending at a respected hospital. You’ve mentored hundreds of doctors over an incredible career. You are a grown man,” you repeat, “and you should not be calling my boyfriend in the middle of the night to tell him I don’t love him!”
“Do you?” he asks.
He can tell you don’t expect it, the way your eyes widen in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. It feels like you’re always annoyed at him these days, and Robby knows he should hate it.
But he can’t. At least it means you’re still thinking about him.
“Of course I do,” you say, but it sounds just a bit too unsure—a bit too off-balance. He knows, because that’s exactly the way you sounded a few weeks before you broke up with him. Your brows still furrow in that way he loves, though. “And you know, it’s absolutely none of your business! I could go to HR with this!”
“Do it,” Robby says. “Give me any sign that you don’t like going back and forth with me, and I’ll stop.”
You laugh in disbelief. “Is this not enough of a sign?”
“I know you,” he says simply.
You purse your lips, looking away as you shake your head and gather your thoughts.
“You’re unbelievable,” you say.
“Maybe.” Robby shrugs. “But if you didn’t keep dating pathetic assholes, I wouldn’t have to keep calling them that.”
“Maybe if you respected the fact that I was in a relationship, you wouldn’t have to do it at all.”
“Just because you don’t love me doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” he says. “You broke up with me. It wasn’t mutual.”
You huff a mirthless laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
He shrugs again. “Nothing I can do about it.”
“I am in a relationship,” you enunciate.
“With all due respect, I’m not going to let you go.”
You scoff. “You can’t ignore my wishes and still respect me.”
“Ask me again.”
“Stop pursuing me,” you say.
“Respectfully, no.”
“I can’t believe you,” you enunciate. “How is it possible for you to be this childish?”
“Men in love do crazy things,” he says. “Is Chad not this crazy about you?”
You clench your jaw as you push yourself up on your toes, then drop back down. “You know his name.”
“It’s not Chad?”
“When did you become this annoying?”
“I’ve always been this way,” Robby says. “You’re just not blinded by the rays of love. anymore”
“Oh my god!” you repeat with another mirthless laugh. “This is why I switched to the night shift!”
“And why it’s not a good idea for us to keep having these conversations at the end of your shift,” Robby says. “You don’t think straight when you’re exhausted. Does Brad know that?”
“Everyone knows that,” you say. “It’s a simple fact of life. And you know his name.”
“Does he know my name?”
“Why does that matter?”
“I just want to know if he’s aware of me,” Robby says. “Of our history. Of all we’ve been through together.”
“He knows your name on account of the fact that we work together,” you say. “You come up in a lot of stories about the people I dislike at work.”
“You’re too kind,” Robby smiles. “I guess he knows who I am now. Let me know if he’s jealous of me, will you?”
“You are fucking impossible,” you bite. “I’m going home, and I’m making sure Nate blocks your number.”
“See you tomorrow!” Robby calls as you walk off. “Can’t wait for the next lecture!”
He smiles while he watches you go. Maybe it is childish—but at least you’re still thinking about him.