On Friday, my store manager, Diane Brooks, slid the transfer form for the new Northbrook store across the counter to me again.The position came with a 30 percent raise and a housing stipend for the first year.Last time, I'd turned it down because of Nathan.Northbrook was only a 40-minute drive away.But he'd said, "We hardly see each other as it is. If you transfer there, what's even the point of dating?"This time, I took the form."I'll give you an answer by Monday."That afternoon, during inventory, the acrylic panel on the top shelf of a display case came loose.I reached up to catch it, and it sliced my wrist open. Blood quickly soaked through the gauze I pressed against the cut.A coworker took me to the hospital and called Nathan, my emergency contact, on the way.He didn't answer. A long while later, he finally called back. "What's so important that you keep calling?""I hurt my hand. I need stitches. My coworker was worried I wouldn't have anyone with me after she left, so
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