Shattered on the Ground

There's a reason I said I'd be happy alone. It wasn't 'cause I thought I'd be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it.

Reese Lynn Hanley lived a double life. In her daytime life she was Doctor Hanley, a surgeon, a friend, the shoulder to cry on. Regan always said she was like Teflon—nothing stuck to her and she stuck to nothing but herself. Words never phased her, actions never hurt her, she never turned to others only herself and on rare occasion Regan (although she was usually caught up in her own life). Doctor Hanley was one of the strongest women in the hospital and surgery was her life’s work.
In her nightlife Reese Lynn Hanley felt the pressures of her life and she had no shoulder to cry on. She had scars from a history she couldn’t run from, and silent memories from a life that haunted her. She was one half of a whole that would never feel complete again, she was a being that craved family yet would never allow herself the luxury of it. She was a person that needed to be told it was okay to be broken, to be weak; that it was okay to not always be the strong one and to sometimes need a hand to pick her up off the ground. But Reese had only had herself to pick up off the ground, she wagered that even if someone attempted to help her Reese’s pride would get in the way. Hospitals? Surgeries? They gave her hives, they were like ghosts of memories haunting her, thoughts and flashbacks of nightmare she had lived through. Hospitals? Surgeries? She hated them.

Twice in her life the men Reese had loved cheated on her. Twice in her life she’d been placed into a situation she didn’t know how to deal with. For the first time in a long time the night and day sides of Reese Lynn Hanley had something in common. The last time it had happened Reese had ran in humiliation and heart break, last time she’d spent hours within the comfort of her sister but now Reese was alone. She didn’t have Ashley to whisper words of comfort, she didn’t have Chris to offer his empty threats, Reese Lynn Hanley had herself and she had no one else to blame. As she sat within the bar down the street from her house she tried to think of how she had gotten into this position not once but twice. Only one thing was different from this time and the last—Reese was no longer a shattered little girl.
So this time Reese didn’t run, she didn’t flee with her broken heart and bruised soul. Reese stayed…and she had a drink.

It's easier to be alone.

“Another,” Reese demanded as her glass collided with the polished counter tap with a clank.

“Reese-“

“Another.” She snapped her eyes adverting from the empty glass to the man behind the bar.

Daniel Page was only a few years older than her and he’d been running the bar nearly as long as Reese had been cutting people open. The two could scarcely be labeled friends but rather very good acquaintances. Which roughly translated to Daniel being a good bar tender and a good listener while Reese, never became a drunken problem who also often brought with her from the hospital entertaining ER stories. Yet still, Daniel felt responsible for knowingly getting Reese drunk in her state.

Daniel pursed his lips but silently refilled the shot glass awaiting the alcohol to fill its brim. He watched as Reese tossed back the shot like water—he’d be lying if he still weren’t impressed by her ability to throw back Southern Comfort like Sprite.

“Rough day?” He guessed eyeing her carefully. It had been a long time since Reese had entered his bar looking to wash away her feelings in Whiskey and Tequila.

“Always,” Reese stated tightly, offering a forced smile. “I need to quit my job if it’s not a rough day.”

“Reese can I ask you something?” Daniel inquired before he leaned against the bar opposite her. Reese said nothing and he took it as his opportunity to continue. “Why are you a doctor? I mean, you come in here at least once a week and you never speak as though you actually enjoy your job.”

“I don’t Daniel,” She sighed tiredly, her finger lazily tracing the rim of the shot glass. “But I’m good at it.”

“What, are the hours good?” Daniel joked knowing that Reese easily but in 90 hours a week.

“To be a good doctor you have to not mind not sleeping, you have to be able to turn off your emotions and just deal with the problems before you. You have to be able to tune out the world.” Daniel said nothing, just watching her carefully. Normally a doctor might speak of how they loved the opportunity to save lives, change lives, play god—but not Reese.

“Here.” He refilled her glass. “That one is on me.” He set the bottle back behind the counter and with one last look in her direction walked away to tend to other customers. Daniel knew if he tried to question her farther or perhaps comfort her it would be crossing some unspoken line between them.

They were not friends, just good acquaintances.

So Reese was once again left with her thoughts, her mind wondering else where as her finger continued to trace the filled shot glass.

Reese had carefully built up this life around her consisting of friends, a career, a boyfriend; all things any normal life consisted of. Yet even with this so called normal life that Reese had built like a game of Jenga, she felt as alone in this life as she had in Tennessee.

Because what if you learn that you need love and then you don't have it?

Lost in her own world, Reese took no notice to the figure that sat down beside her. Her finger just went around and around and around the rim of that filled glass. Daniel returned a moment later, his emerald eyes flickering with concern in Reese’s direction before he glanced to the figure beside her.

“What can I get you?”

The person waved Daniel off, “Nothing, you don’t have what I want, man, trust me.”

While Reese was not used to the roughness in his voice she knew him all the same. Dread began to grow in her stomach, blossoming like a poisonous flower. With a fleeting thought Reese wished for the loneliness once more.

“You have a lot of nerve.” She stated bitterly, her eyes trained on her glass. She’d decided that in which ever direction this new conversation went would decide the fate of the frosty shot glass.

What if you like it and lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart?

The person beside her said nothing.

“Give me a shot of Patrone.”

Reese shook her head in aggravated disbelief. Could she ever get five minutes to herself? Could she ever end up in a scenario that resulted in a clear head and a happy heart?

“What do you want from me?” She growled her finger no longer tracing the shot glass but gripping it. Just being in his presence was making her blood boil. If there was one thing Reese had never been able to tolerate it was betrayal. It was the kind of thing that hit Reese, sunk into her very bones and stayed there. Some said Reese could hold a grudge; Reese said it just took too long to get that kind of poison out of her bones.

“I want to talk about what happened, I’m sorry okay?”

Okay? Okay? Okay? Okay?

No it was not okay. It was never fucking okay.

Reese swallowed hard, keeping careful control of her emotions.

Deep breath, in, out, in, out, shot.

The rough liquid burned a trail down her throat and met in her stomach where the sting of betrayal was searing its own hole into her body.

Okay? Okay? Okay?

“Sure,” Reese began dryly, her eyes narrowing on the now empty glass. “It’s a-okay.”

Daniel returned then, his eyes flickering between his two customers before he silently poured the shot of Patrone.

“Really?” He questioned in surprise.

Reese wondered how people lived with their heart on their sleeves and survived their day-to-day lives. To take everything to heart, to be absolutely shattered every time someone hurt you, to hold the highest reverence for the people you love and then to have them betray you.

Reese wondered what it was like to have faith in people, to not always expect the worst. How could people go through life and not worry if when you kiss you’re loved ones goodbye in the morning if they may never come home? How could you look at your boyfriend and not worry that every time he gets into his car to see you he might never make it to your house. Or what if one day he looks at you and suddenly sees you clearly? What if one day he looks at another girl and sees beauty where he only ever saw pretty in you? What if he cheats on you? Its not like you’re special…

Reese had looked at Michael time and time again with a quiet voice of doubt running through her mind. A. How could the top surgeon in the hospital want her of all woman. Broken, scarred Reese. B. How could he see beauty when he pulls her shirt over her head and see the ugly array of scars. How could he see anything other than a sorry person with disgusting scars?

She was damaged goods after all. She was broken, scarred; she’d even nearly died once.

That didn’t mean betrayal didn’t hurt any less.

Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It's like dying.

You can wonder about something, even expect something, but when that something happens, when it is confirmed it always hurts worst than you think it will.

But Reese had a high threshold for pain. After all it wasn’t life or death, it wasn’t like the betrayal had physically hurt her, it wasn’t like her heart was actually bleeding.

Reese could handle heartbreak, she could handle betrayal, and she could handle all those days in medical school when she’d accidental cut herself with the scalpel. None of these things hurt Reese as much as things must hurt everyone else. Every time she’d heard of girls with broken hearts, every time she’d heard of that significant other leaving or cheating it always seemed to leave the girl absolutely wrecked.

But Reese knew what it felt like to truly be wrecked. She understood with perfect clarity what it truly meant to have you’re whole world turned upside down, to think you’ll never be happy again.

The only difference is death ends.

“Really?” He questioned surprise shamelessly laced in his voice.

Before he could reach for the shot glass Reese had snatched it, pressed it to her chapped lips, and tossed her head back.

“Sure Michael, it’s fine.”

How could you truly be hurt by something you suspect all along for one reason or another? Sure it stings but you can shrug it off like a bee sting and move on.

“Really?” It wasn’t surprise in his baritone voice anymore but doubt.

For the first time since he’d so generously graced her with his presence Reese turned to the man she called her boyfriend.

A sense of unease flooded his eyes and doubt weighed down his lips.

“Yeah Mike I forgive you.”



I’ve experienced both on first hand accounts and have found that nothing hurts quite like being touched by death. After you’ve been touched by something as painfully life changing as that, everything else is just a bee sting…its not a car crash.