Bad Ideas (First & Forever 4)

When he finally stepped back, I told him, “Feel free to do that any time.”

He turned and left the storage room as he murmured, “Don’t tempt me.”

I took a few minutes to catch my breath and wait for my erection to subside. It was impossible to wipe the smile from my face. I had no idea what had prompted him to do that, but I definitely wasn’t complaining.

When I opened the door, I stuck my head out and looked left and right. Fortunately, the hall was empty. If anyone had seen both of us leaving that room, the rumor mill would have exploded.

What started out as a wonderful day proceeded to go straight to hell. One patient’s fever spiked, which sent her parents into a panic. They started screaming at all the nurses, which happened occasionally—they didn’t have another outlet for their worry, and we were easy targets. Then five new patients were admitted over the course of an hour with similar upper respiratory symptoms. That was a bad sign for the flu season ahead.

There were also little fires to put out everywhere, metaphorically speaking—a patient emergency here, an urgent request there, it went on and on. Occasionally, I crossed paths with Theo, and our conversations were all business. They had to be.

But then the worst thing of all happened. A little nine-year-old girl’s diagnosis finally came in, and it turned out to be cancer. I watched Theo’s face as he read the report, then looked around for her parents, who were talking to a nurse halfway down the hall. He glanced at me with heartbreak in his eyes, and I wanted to hug him. How awful to have to tell them that news. I couldn’t even imagine.

He pulled up his game face before going to talk to the couple. He didn’t have a choice. This was no time for him to be emotional. What those parents needed was a doctor who came across as both competent and confident, someone who could guide them in this situation.

I tried to be subtle about watching and listening in as he approached them. He asked if they’d like to talk in his office, but the girl’s mother didn’t want to delay the news, so he guided them to a bench instead. Once the couple sat down, he explained the diagnosis. I thought he did a great job of making it easy to understand, and he kept it positive by letting them know the odds were in their daughter’s favor because it had been caught early. Both parents began sobbing, and I had to turn away. It made my heart ache.

Later on, I got busy doing the evening rounds, distributing medications and checking in with all the patients, so I didn’t see Theo for a while. Somehow though, I just knew he hadn’t gone home, even though his shift had ended hours ago.

When I finally had time for a break, I went to find him. He wasn’t in his office, so I decided to check the quietest place I could think of on our floor—the stairwell. It was someplace I went on occasion, when I just needed a minute of peace and quiet.

Sure enough, he was sitting on the top step with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He quickly got to his feet and started to say something when I came in, but I just grabbed him in an embrace. It was almost like he didn’t know what to do at first. But then he wrapped his arms around me and held on tight as he buried his face in my shoulder.

When he finally let go and took a step back, I gently brushed his hair off his forehead and asked, “Do you want company tonight? It can be all about sex or the exact opposite, whatever you need.”

“I don’t know,” he said softly, as his gaze shifted to the floor. “This has been a rough day, and I’m not sure there’s going to be anything left of me by then.”

I gently caressed his cheek. “No pressure. I get off at two. Message me if you want, and if not, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded and started to leave the stairwell. But then he turned back and murmured, “Thanks, Casey.” I offered him a smile, and he looked at me wistfully before he slipped through the door.

I took an extra minute in the quiet stairwell and drew a deep breath. Then I exhaled slowly and went back to work.

Theo ended up working a fourteen-hour shift and finally went home around ten p.m. It seemed unlikely he’d call me, and by the time two a.m. rolled around, I was moving in slow motion. I changed back into my street clothes and trudged out to my car, almost but not quite dragging my backpack on the ground.