I watch, taken aback, as the petite nurse storms out of my room. I’m still irritated about my cigarette, but a pang of guilt hits me. I shouldn’t have been so blunt. It seems she’s battling the same damn disease, and from the looks of her sparse hair hidden under her scarf, she’s still in the thick of it.
I shake my head, disbelief washing over me. Just three weeks ago, everything was normal—or so I thought. Now, look at me. Life sure knows how to play dirty. First Bella, now this.
A faint sound draws my attention to my phone lighting up. Who could it be now? I’m not in the mood for any well-intentioned messages. But it’s Robbie, sending me some ridiculous video.
I open the message and watch, my surprise growing. It’s an Instagram video of a man who recorded a message before his death, played at his funeral. Everyone’s gathered around the coffin, and you can hear him yelling about wanting out and how dark it is inside.
I start to chuckle quietly. Robbie really is a piece of work. He’s more like me than his mother, I think, just as foolish and boorish.
I scroll through my messages, but there’s nothing new. Before I switch off my phone, I shoot Rob a message, asking him to bring me some fresh clothes in the morning. I thought I’d only be here for a day, but it seems the tumor is so large it needs immediate attention.
My thoughts are interrupted by the loud echo of footsteps on the blue linoleum in the hallways. The evening shift must be clocking out.
I let out a deep sigh. Tonight will be a blast when the night nurse does her rounds. I’ve always been a light sleeper, and I doubt I’ll get any shut-eye.
I grab my sweatpants and toothbrush, heading to the bathroom to change into something more comfortable. Despite the crappy circumstances, I’m lucky to have a private room, which means I don’t have to share the bathroom. With nothing better to do, I take a long shower.
When I return to the room, I find the petite nurse, the one who threw a fit earlier, standing by my bed.
“I’m here to check your vitals, and the doctor prescribed a sleeping pill. If you can’t sleep, just call and I’ll bring it to you.” She deliberately avoids my gaze, and I wonder if she’s still upset with me. “And… I want to apologize.” Her eyes meet mine, and a blush spreads across her pale cheeks.
“I shouldn’t have reacted that way, but I…” She looks away, clearing her throat. “Never mind. I just shouldn’t have yelled at you.” Her eyes find mine again, holding my gaze steadily.
I chuckle softly, crossing my arms. “I have to say, not many people, and especially little things like you, have the guts to shout at me like that. You’ve got some balls, lady.”
Her eyes widen as my words sink in, but then a smile graces her lips. For a moment, I’m taken aback. Her smile is so genuine and spontaneous. The weary, defeated look on her face is replaced, and I catch a glimpse of the woman she likely was before her illness.
“You’re quite a character, aren’t you?” Her smile evolves into a soft, contagious chuckle.
She takes my vitals, jotting down some notes, before her expression grows solemn again. “But I was serious earlier. You really can’t smoke in here. It’s prohibited throughout the hospital, and besides, it’s not fair to the other patients.”
My eyes scan her face, and I hesitate. I could tease her and tell her I have a whole pack with me, but the tired look in her eyes makes me hold back and nod. “I promise not to smoke in the room again, okay?”
She doesn’t answer. Her eyes wander over my face, suspiciously. Surely she’s not going to start asking me to empty my pockets? But then she gives me a short nod. “Okay. Even though I’m pretty sure you have more cigarettes where this one came from, I trust you won’t light them here in the hospital.” And with those words she turns around, seemingly haughtily, leaving me completely dumbfounded.
I wake up to a gentle shake on my arm. “Good morning, Edward. I have a pill for you to take before surgery.”
Surprised, I sit up and glance at the window. The curtains are still drawn, but a weak sun peeks through a crack. I look at the nurse from last night. A warm smile plays on her lips. “Judging by your expression, you’re surprised you slept.”
A smirk forms on my lips as I catch the twinkle in her eyes. “You’re used to working night shifts, aren’t you? I’m a light sleeper, but somehow you managed to move so quietly that I didn’t hear you.”
Her smile widens. “True. I’m a regular on the night shift, and it’s nice to hear that I do it as quietly as possible. I wouldn’t want to be woken up in the middle of the night either.” She extends her hand, holding a small cup with a pill. “The OR just called. You’re first up this morning.”
