Chapter 17
Aria
It takes me and Sophia about five minutes to come up with a list of supplies for Elliot. Trying to fill it was a lot harder than either of us thought.
There aren’t a whole lot of supplies we need, so we ended up asking for a little bit of everything just to be on the safe side. We also followed his suggestion and added scrubs just in case we come in contact with bodily fluids.
As for the food and snack portion, we might have gone a little crazy. Elliot said we could, so why not ask for everything we could think of?
Sophia and I are alternating shifts for the next week or so, which means if one of us isn’t in the hospital, we will be here if Grayson needs us to be. One day, Sophia, one day, me. It’s the logical thing since this job doesn’t require the both of us being here at the same time.
The only reason we’re both here today is so we can get our bearings and because I think Sophia would freak out if I sent her by herself on the first day.
We need to work on her confidence as a nurse a little bit more.
After the list is set and done, we head across the hall to check on Grayson. Since it has probably been a few hours since the surgical site was closed, it would be a good idea to check the wound and make sure it’s not bleeding more than it should.
And the only way to do that is to wake the man up. Given how he’s snoring, that may be a mission.
“Mr. Lane, can you hear me?” My voice is soft as I announce myself and gently nudge his shoulder.
Apparently, he wasn’t as dead asleep as I thought, because his eyes open after a nudge or two. From the way he looks up at me, I can see the anesthesia is still effecting him.
“You’re not Sophia,” he says, his voice groggy from sleep and the surgery.
I smile down at him. “I’m not, but she is here with me.”
“Hi, Mr. Lane. I’m glad to see you in recovery.”
Grayson gives Sophia a groggy smile. “Don’t call me Mr. Lane, please. That’s my uncle or my brother. I’m too young for the Mr. Lane shit.”
Both Sophia and I let out a chuckle.
“Funny, your brother said not to call him Mr. Lane either,” I say to him.
“My brother is a pain in the ass.”
“If you say so.” I give him another smile and get to work. “Well, Grayson, I apologize for having to meet under these circumstances, but I’m Aria, a registered nurse at Chicago Memorial, and I’m here to help Sophia with your recovery. How are you feeling right now?”
“Like someone’s whole arm was shoved down my throat with my permission.”
“That’s expected,” I say, nodding to Sophia, silently telling her to get a water bottle from the fridge in the other room. “Are you experiencing any pain in your knee?”
Sophia comes back with a water bottle and a straw in hand. Before Grayson can answer my question, we make him take a drink of water. He’s going to need all the fluids he can get.
“Some,” Grayson answers after drinking more than half of the water bottle. “It’s throbbing right now, like I can feel my heartbeat in the incision.”
“It may be time to for you to take your medication and eat something. That should help with the pain,” Sophia answers, and I can’t help but beam a little at her.
In a few years, she’s going to look back at her lack of confidence and laugh.
“Your brother said a little bit ago that your medication was going to be delivered. I’ll go check if it’s here yet.”
I turn away to walk out, but a hand catches me. Grayson pulls me back to face him.
“What medication was I prescribed?” he asks, his face coated in seriousness. The easygoing guy from a few minutes ago is gone.
I run through the list of prescriptions I saw earlier. “The doctor gave you an ibuprofen for mild pain, a muscle relaxer, a low dosage aspirin, and Tramadol, for severe pain when needed.”
At the mention of the Tramadol, Grayson’s eyes go dark. I don’t have to ask why—I can see it all over his face. He’s taken it before, and not in the way it should be.
“I’ll take everything but the opiate,” he states, looking between me and Sophia to drive the point home.
I nod. “I apologize. There was nothing in your chart, and your brother didn’t mention it.”
“That’s because my brother doesn’t know, and I didn’t get a chance to tell my discharge nurse.”
His brother doesn’t know about his addiction. I want to ask how that is possible, but it’s not my place.
It’s not my place, but my mouth still opens on a question. “Is that why you hired a nurse to help with your recovery?”
Grayson nods, knowing what I’m asking without saying all the words.
“And why I’m staying here instead of my own place. I couldn’t trust myself to get handed the prescription and not dispose of the pills, to not call someone when I’m alone to bring me more.”
I applaud him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to handle his recovery period alone, that his addiction had the possibility of taking over. He did it silently, but he did it, and that takes strength and courage.
“How long have you been struggling with this?” I ask, trying to get all the information I need to properly handle this.
“Since I first injured my knee. I’ve been clean for four years.”
His chart said he had sustained a knee injury when he was seventeen. He’s twenty-six now, which means he has been living with this addiction for almost ten years.
My need to help grows even more. “What do you need from us to make this recovery easier for you?” I ask.
Grayson looks up at me and then at Sophia. “Having one of you here daily would help.”
Sophia gives him a smile. “We’ve already discussed that. For the next two weeks, we are taking alternating shifts at the hospital so when one of us is working, the other is here with you.”
He gives us a nod, as if he appreciates we took the initiative. “What about nights? Would that be too much?” His eyes swing between the two of us.
The look Sophia gives me says she wants to say yes, but that would mean she would need to abandon the rest of her responsibilities. She has a social life, a boyfriend—she can’t drop all of that to take care of Grayson. She wants to, but she can’t.
I, on the other hand…
No should be on the tip of my tongue, especially given who his brother is, but I would be doing this for Grayson, not Elliot.
So, I give the man with the bandaged leg a nod. “No, not at all. I have no social life, so I can stay longer than the hours we agreed if that’s what you need and come in after my shifts at the hospital to relieve Sophia.”
Sophia’s eyes go a bit wide, and Grayson seems to backtrack a bit at my offer.
“If it’s going to affect your actual job, then I can deal with it. What’s a few hours anyway? I could just try and sleep or something.”
I don’t have to know him all that well to know worry currently lines his voice. With something like this, the night is the hardest. I’ve had patients say they never want the sun to go down, because when it does, it feels like it takes an eternity to come back up.
“It won’t affect my time at the hospital,” I promise, but I don’t know if it’s a promise to him or myself. “Besides, there is a bed available here for that very reason. Sophia and I are here to help you in every way we can.”
Grayson gives me a smile that reminds me so much of his brother’s.
It’s interesting—when Sophia first showed me his picture, I didn’t see anything familiar about him, no resemblance to anyone I knew, but now that I’ve had the chance to really look at him, I can see it.
Elliot has darker hair, brown in some lights, almost black in others, and his eyes are a dark blue.
His younger brother has light brown hair, almost blond, and brown eyes.
They have their differences, but you can still tell they’re brothers.
“Are you sure? You won’t really have a day off.” he asks, his face filled with gratitude.
I nod. “I’m sure. I can start the additional hours tomorrow if that is okay.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” He nods to both of us, before cringing a little. “Do you think we can keep this information between us? The only one that knows is my sister and I really don’t want to go announcing the fact that I have a pill problem to the rest of my family.”
“Your secret is safe with us.”
It’s a mighty ass secret, but as his nurse, his secrets are mine to keep.
* * *
After checking Grayson’s incision, it’s time to put some food in his body so he can take his medication.
Henry, who I was introduced to when he came to check on Grayson, suggests that Grayson eat in bed, but he refuses, instead wanting to eat in the living room because his brother ‘doesn’t know a tv should be put in every room’. His words, not mine.
With help from Henry, Sophia and I get him into the wheelchair without a single worry about his leg, then situate him on the couch with a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese.
“Henry, my man. I love you so damn much. You know the way to my heart. This soup is spectacular. Your best work.” Grayson proclaims taking a bite of the soup covered bread.
“You say the same thing when I make French toast.” Henry throws back, looking a bit amused.
I can’t help but to smile a little at the interaction.
As Grayson sits on the couch with his food, Henry, Sophia, and I sit at the small dining room table just a few feet away, having our own meals.
There is no Elliot in sight. He must had left before we came down with Grayson, and a part of me wants to ask for him, but I hold my tongue.
I need to be concentrating on Grayson, not on the whereabouts of his brother.
If I had the balls to tell Grayson no to spending nights here, his brother would be the main reason for it.
Maybe Elliot is one of those really rich guys who has more than one house and never spends more than one night in one place.
Maybe he works crazy hours. Fingers crossed for both those scenarios to be true.
“This soup really is great. Canned soup could never get this creamy,” I tell Henry, trying to move my mind off Elliot.
“Thank you, Miss…” Henry starts, pausing as if he is trying to remember my last name.
“Hernandez. That’s my last name, but you can call me Aria.” I give the older gentleman a smile. He reminds me of my abuelo—so damn stoic, but when he’s around his grandchildren, he’s all smiles and full of love.
“Well, Miss Aria, thank you so much for the compliment.”
The three of us at the table talk for a bit about our favorite recipes before Henry asks us for our opinion on the type of food Grayson should be eating so he can prepare.
Once that is taken care of, we give Henry instructions for the rest of the day and into the night, including both of our numbers and what medicine to give Grayson.
When the clock hits five in the evening with still no sign of Elliot—not that I’m been checking for him or anything—and Grayson nearly half asleep on the couch, us nurses call it day.
“I will be here tomorrow morning, and Aria will stop by in the evening to make sure everything is okay,” Sophia informs Henry when we walk into the living room.
“You both have my gratitude, Ms. Aria and Ms. Sophia. Thank you for taking this on top of your day jobs.” I don’t know what I love more about Henry: the fact that he seems to really care about Grayson and his whole family, or his British accent. I think it might be a tie.
His accent is just so posh.
“We are happy to help. If you need anything, you have our numbers. Feel free to call or text for anything.”
“Of course. Let me walk you two out.” He extends both his hands and waves them toward the elevator.
As we make our way out, I feel a bit of disappointment roll through me. I’m even more disappointed at myself for feeling it. The feeling is only present because a certain person isn’t. I haven’t seen Elliot in hours, and now, I’m leaving, and I’m disappointed because of it.
I should be feeling absolutely nothing toward a guy I met three years ago, yet my body is reacting to him like we dated for years and he was my first love.
Something must seriously be wrong with me.
Sure, that night was memorable, but being anywhere near his vicinity should not have this effect on me.
Henry guides us to the elevator, and as he reaches toward the call button, the doors slide open, revealing a well-dressed Elliot on the other side. Instead of the black t-shirt and jeans he was wearing earlier, he’s in dark slacks and a white button down that fits him perfectly.
There is something about this man wearing something formal, but after seeing him in casual wear, I think that has to be my favorite version of him.
You shouldn’t have a favorite version of him.
Oh well. Sue me.
“You ladies leaving already?” he asks, and I don’t miss how his eyes travel the length of my body. Never in my wildest dreams did I think a man would make me feel hot and wanted as I wore scrubs, yet here I am.
Sophia is the one to answer him. “Yes. We will be back tomorrow to check on Mr. Lane.”
Elliot gives her a nod. “Great. I’m sorry for not having been here to help this afternoon. Something came up with work, and I couldn’t avoid it.”
Now, it’s my turn to answer. “No need to apologize.” His eyes move back to me, and I try my hardest not show how much his gaze affects me. “We gave Henry all the instructions for tonight and a way to contact us. If there’s nothing else, we should get going.”
Without another word, Elliot moves out of the way and lets us step into the elevator.
Right before the doors close, my eyes meet his, and for a second, I’m not in an elevator in Chicago, but in a pizza parlor in Vegas, ready to jump a stranger’s bones until he fucks me like there is no tomorrow.
As the doors inch closer, I call, “See you later, Mr. Lane.”
“Bye, Aria.” His words hit me as the doors shut and the elevator starts moving.
Sophia waits a whole ten seconds before she lets out a squeal. “Wow.”
“What?” I say, finally pulling my eyes from the steel doors.
She fans herself before she responds. “You may have only spent seven hours with the guy, but there is something there. You two should explore it.”
I let out a little laugh and shake my head. “I hate to break it to you, but whatever happened between me and Elliot stayed in Vegas and is in no way going to come to Chicago. That ship sailed years ago.”
Along with the past version of me.
“If you say so,” she sing-songs when the elevator arrives at the lobby.
“I do say so. Nothing is going to happen between me and Elliot. Nothing at all.”
I say the words as we leave the building, but just because I say them doesn’t mean I’m not going to spend the majority of the night looking up the guy and finding everything there is to know about him.
I finally have a last name after all.