CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lennon
The steady hum of the pediatric ICU surrounds me as I sit at the nurse’s station, scribbling notes on a chart. The early morning rounds chaos has settled, and for a brief moment, there’s calm—the kind that always feels fragile in this place. I’m focused, running through my mental checklist for the long shift ahead, when the phone rings.
“Lennon,” calls Ria from the far end of the counter. “Front desk says there’s someone here for you.”
I glance up, confused. “For me? Are you sure?”
She shrugs, a smirk tugging at her lips. “That’s what they said. Maybe it’s a secret admirer.”
I roll my eyes, but curiosity prickles at the edges of my thoughts. Pushing back my chair, I straighten my scrub top and head down the hallway. I haven’t ordered anything, and as far as I know, all my deliveries are set to go home.
The moment I round the corner, I stop short. There, standing at the front desk, is a young guy with a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, holding a massive bouquet of pink roses and a kraft paper bag. My breath catches.
Ruben.
His name flashes through my mind like a neon sign, and my heart does this ridiculous little flip. I haven’t been able to shake his smile out of my head all morning, and now here he is—not in person, but close enough. He’s sent me flowers.
My steps quicken, and I reach the desk just as the delivery guy glances up from his phone. “Lennon Callahan?” he asks, holding out the bouquet like it’s too fragile to handle.
“That’s me,” I manage, my voice lighter than usual.
“These are for you. And this, too.” He hands me the flowers and the bag, then tips his cap and walks out, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded.
“Wow,” murmurs the receptionist, leaning over the counter with wide eyes. “Someone’s got a thing for you.”
I barely hear her. My fingers trace the edges of one delicate bloom, the soft petals brushing against my skin. Nestled among the blooms is a small card. I pluck it out and unfold it, my heart pounding.
Thinking of you, beautiful girl. Call me when your shift ends.
Have a great day and don’t miss me too much.
—Ruben
A smile tugs at my lips, and I press the card to my chest for a moment, letting the warmth of his words wash over me. He’s ridiculous. Ridiculously sweet, ridiculously thoughtful, ridiculously… Ruben.
The bag catches my attention next. I open it and peek inside, finding a collection of patisserie items—a Napoleon, two puff pastries, cookies, and even a small thermos that I’m willing to bet contains coffee. Just perfect. In the same way he is.
“Are you gonna share, or should we just admire from afar?” Ria’s voice startles me, and I turn to see her grinning from ear to ear.
“Not a chance,” I tease, clutching the bag protectively. But she’s not wrong. Everyone’s staring, their expressions a mix of amusement and envy. It should feel embarrassing, but it doesn’t. It feels… good.
Better than good.
I have thirty-six hours ahead of me in this hospital, and the weight of that should feel crushing. But as I head back to the station, flowers in hand and snacks in tow, there’s a spring in my step I haven’t felt in ages. My happiness has a name, and it’s Ruben Posada.
Who could have guessed?
I don’t have a lot of time to think about it. One of the room’s monitors starts beeping urgently. Oh no, Kelly… We all are professionals, but in one way or the other, these kids are part of our lives.
“Stephanie, call Dr. Ramos and Dr. Tram,” Ria’s voice is sharp, cutting through the noise as the team converges on Kelly’s bed. The assistant standing by her looks pale, her hands frozen mid-motion. “What’s happening?”
“The sensors!” she blurts out, panicked. “I was giving her a towel bath, and I think the leads moved…”
Relief floods me, but I don’t let it show. “Okay, let’s check her vitals manually,” I say, stepping in. “Ria, reset the monitors. Let’s make sure she’s stable.”
Even as I speak, my eyes sweep over Kelly’s small form. And that’s when I see it. Her lashes fluttered. Barely perceptible, but it’s there. My breath catches.
“Kelly?” I whisper, leaning closer.
The flutter comes again, stronger this time, and then her eyes—those beautiful, bright eyes—blink open. She looks at me, confused but awake. Awake.
“She’s waking up,” Ria breathes. The beeping fades as the monitors stabilize, but no one’s paying attention to the machines anymore. All eyes are on Kelly.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” I say softly, crouching beside her bed. “You’re back. We’ve missed you.”
Kelly tries to say something, but the tube makes it impossible. It doesn’t matter. The fact that she’s awake is a miracle in itself.
“Let’s get her parents,” Ria says, her voice thick with emotion. She hurries out of the room, leaving me alone with Kelly for a moment. I take the time to check her pupils, the sensitivity in her hands and feet. Everything looks fine.
“You gave us quite a scare, kiddo,” I whisper, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. “But you’re on the mend. Your parents will be here in a minute.”
Her gaze holds mine, and I swear there’s a flicker of recognition. I’m still standing there when her parents rush in, their faces a mix of hope and fear.
“She’s awake,” I tell them, stepping back to give them space. “She’s awake. The doctors will be here any minute.”
Kelly’s mom bursts into tears, collapsing into her husband’s arms before they both move to their daughter’s side. The room is filled with quiet sobs and murmured words of love, and I slip out to give them privacy.
Later, as the shift winds down and the adrenaline fades, I find myself back by Kelly’s room. She’s back after all the tests the doctors ordered for her. Her parents are sitting by her bed, holding her hands and smiling through their tears. I lean against the doorframe, watching for a moment before stepping inside.
“I wanted to say,” I begin, my voice soft, “I’m so happy for you all. Kelly’s recovery is a testament to her strength… and to yours.”
Her dad nods, his eyes glistening. “Thank you, Lennon. For everything. You gave us hope.”
I smile, glancing at Kelly, who’s dozing now, her small chest rising and falling steadily. “She’s a fighter. And she’s got so much waiting for her. More Saturday mornings watching movies, right?”
Kelly’s mom laughs through her tears. “Right. More movies. More everything.”
Moments like this are rare, but they’re why we do what we do. They’re why I keep coming back, even on the hardest days.
? ? ?
Exhaustion hits me like a freight train as I finally walk through the door of my home. The place is blissfully quiet, and I’m grateful my roomies are both out. If they were here, the teasing would have been relentless. Jeanette especially would’ve had a field day over the roses.
I set the bouquet carefully on the kitchen counter and kick off my sneakers. My scrubs smell like antiseptic and coffee, and all I want is a shower. The moment I reach my room, I drop onto the mattress with a groan, letting the softness envelop me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, grinning before I even unlock the screen. There’s only one person who could make me smile this much with just a text.
Ruben: Are you home yet, Chispita ?
I type back quickly, the fatigue forgotten.
Lennon: Just got in. I’m currently lying on my bed,
trying to recover from the shock of receiving flowers at work.
You’re so subtle, Ruben. Really low-key. No one noticed at all.
His reply comes almost instantly.
Ruben: Subtlety is overrated.
I want everyone to know you’re being properly adored.
I laugh, biting my lip.
Lennon: Properly adored, huh? That’s a bold claim.
What else does “proper adoration” entail?
Ruben: For starters, making sure you’re taken care of.
Did you eat yet? I can’t have you running on fumes.
Lennon: Obsessed with my diet much?
Ruben: Obsessed with you.
I roll onto my back, trying to calm this giddy feeling. He’s impossible.
Lennon: Flirting already? You don’t waste time, do you?
Ruben: I don’t. Speaking of time, have lunch with me.
Say yes, and I’ll promise not to bring up your eating habits.
Lennon: Tempting. But what if I say no?
Ruben: Then I’ll send another bouquet. Maybe red roses this time, Titan sized.
Or lilies. What’s your favorite?
Lennon: You’re relentless, Ruben Posada.
Ruben: Relentless about you? Always. So, lunch?
I hesitate, but only to make him sweat. Finally, I type back.
Lennon: Fine. But only if you promise to let me pick the place.
And no lectures about protein intake.
Ruben: I have a counteroffer.
Ah, this guy. The smile on my face is so big that it threatens to split it in two.
Lennon: I’m listening.
Ruben: Wear a dress for me.
This request is a breeze to fulfill, but don’t think I’m handing him a victory—not even the smallest—over that easily.
Lennon: I hate dresses.
Ruben: No, you don’t. Can’t wait to see you.
My cheeks hurt from smiling as I toss the phone onto the bed beside me. I should be showered and asleep already, but instead, I’m staring at the ceiling, replaying every word of our conversation. Sleep can wait. For now, I’ll savor this—the giddy, butterflies-in-my-stomach kind of happiness that Ruben seems to bring effortlessly.