28.Mrs.Morris- A sleeping beauty
Eva froze for half a second at the scrub table when the nurse handed her the case sheet.
Patient Name: Charlie Mathews.
Age: 25.
Diagnosis: Triple Vessel Disease. Planned CABG (Coronary Artery Bypass Grafting).
Her throat tightened. Charlie-the young man admitted only yesterday.
She remembered his nervous smile when she walked into the ward with her file.
"You look too cheerful to be a doctor," he had teased, trying to mask his fear.
She had stayed by his bedside longer than usual, explaining the procedure in simple words, even sketching a rough heart diagram to calm him.
And now... he was unconscious on this table, chest ready to be opened.
Neil's voice cut through.
Neil: "Dr. Walter. You're not here to stare at the chart. Scrub in."
Eva nodded quickly, rushing to wash up, but her hands trembled under the running water. Not because she wasn't ready-but because she couldn't bear the thought of charlie not waking up.
Inside the OR, she stood opposite Neil. Her heart raced beneath the mask, but her hands stayed steady.
The surgery began. Neil's presence commanded the room-precise, confident, ruthless in his focus. Eva followed his rhythm, anticipating his moves.
Then-halfway through-alarms blared. Charlie's vitals nosedived.
"Flatlining!" the anesthetist cried.
Neil gave rapid instructions, but Eva's gaze darted over the perfusion lines, scanning, thinking. Something in the graft pressure readings was off-too low.
Eva (suddenly): "Check the LIMA graft flow! It's kinked-output's blocked!"
Neil's eyes flicked to her, sharp, doubtful-but he checked. She was right.
"Correct it. Now," Neil ordered.
Together they fixed the kink, hands moving fast. Slowly-painfully-the monitor climbed back up. The flatline gave way to rhythm.
A collective exhale filled the OR. The scrub nurse whispered, "Smart catch, Dr. Walter."
Eva didn't respond. Her eyes were on Charlie's chest, silently praying.
Eva caught it-the way his shoulders had eased when Charlie stabilized.
An hour later, the case was over. Neil ripped off his gown and muttered, "OR 3 in ten. Let's go."
Eva lingered a moment longer, staring at Charlie being wheeled out. Just yesterday, he had joked about asking for ice cream after surgery. Now he is stable.
She exhaled, a faint smile breaking through her mask.
Eva didn't know what was more exhausting-the eight-hour surgery or Neil Morris barking orders at her like a drill sergeant.
"Retract."
"Clamp that-no, tighter."
"Don't look at me, look at the graft, Dr. Walter."
From making the median sternotomy to harvesting the LIMA, Neil had commanded every move, his deep voice cutting through the sterile air like a metronome of precision.
At one point, she wanted to throw the scalpel at him. At another, she wanted to high-five herself for keeping up with him through a full CABG procedure.
She mumbled under her breath more than once, "Yes, Your Majesty," as she followed his relentless instructions.
But somewhere between the sutures and the bypass flow checks, a strange pride settled in. She was actually doing it-assisting in a triple-vessel bypass under the best cardiothoracic surgeon in the city.
When the last stitch went in and Neil finally said, "We're done," Eva almost dropped in relief. Her back screamed, her fingers ached, and her stomach had declared war an hour ago.
She stripped off her gloves, pulled off her cap, and sighed. "Finally. Freedom."
The clock read 5:47 PM. She'd missed breakfast, skipped lunch, and lost count of the times she'd thought about food.
Walking out of the OR, she could still hear Neil's voice echoing in her head-"Walter, focus." "Walter, faster."
She scoffed to herself. "He really thinks I'm a robot."
Her stomach growled in agreement.
Grabbing a protein bar from her locker, she sank onto the bench and unwrapped it like it was a five-star meal.
Across the hall, Neil walked past briskly, mask still around his neck, discussing the next case with another surgeon. He didn't even glance her way.
Eva took a big bite, muttering, "Of course.No good job,nothing. Just Neil being Neil."
But as he turned the corner, she caught a glimpse-his hand brushed the edge of his mask, and there it was: the faintest, smallest smile.
And she wondered...
Was that for the surgery? Or for me?
She had to work for an extra two hours today for longer shifts.
"It has to be today,wow on the most tired day itself." Saying she continued her rounds.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket popping a text message.
Eva leaned against the nurse's station, rubbing the back of her neck. Her eyes burned and hands gave up writing on progress notes of the patients, and her legs felt like someone had swapped them for concrete.
She glanced at her phone as a message popped on screen.
Dr.Morris: I'll be there in 10 minutes. We'll leave together.
"Great," she muttered under her breath. " Now the Highness started to show some concern.yeah why not it time to leave he will be acting a perfect husband again."
The wall clock ticked mockingly. 8:07 PM.
Her reflection in the glass door looked as tired as she felt-messy bun falling apart, mask hanging loose, dark circles screaming for mercy. She let out a soft laugh. "Perfect. Dr. Morris will be thrilled to see this zombie version of his 'fake wife'."
"Ready?" his calm voice interupted, low, like he hadn't been working nonstop for the past 12 hours.
Eva straightened. "Define ready. Because my soul left two hours ago."
A corner of his mouth curved up slightly. "You're still talking, so that's a good sign."
She glared, half-heartedly. "You just love seeing me suffer, don't you?"
"I didn't make you stay overtime."
"You're my senior. Technically, you did."
He raised an eyebrow, amused. "You really like blaming me for everything, huh?"
"Yes. It keeps me sane."
Eva slowed her steps as they exited the hospital building, her body instantly relaxing when the crisp night air brushed against her skin. The smell of rain lingered, cool and earthy - washing away the sterile hospital scent that clung to her all day.
Neil, walking beside her with his hands in his pockets, glanced down at her. "Tired?"
She nodded, stretching her arms a little. "Tired, exhausted, starving - all synonyms apply."
His lips twitched. Then he gestured toward the old bench under the big tree near the parking lot. The same one where they stood a month ago under rain, is now glistening under the faint yellow streetlight.
"Sit for a few minutes," he said. "You look like you could pass out any second."
Eva blinked at him, surprised. "Wow, concern from the great Dr. Morris? That's rare."
He ignored her tone and walked toward the bench. She followed anyway, curiosity pulling her more than obedience.
The air was gentle - the kind that makes you forget the world for a while.
Eva tilted her head up, watching the leaves sway. "It's peaceful," she said softly.
Neil hummed in response, his eyes fixed on the same patch of sky she was staring at. The leaves shimmered under the streetlight, the air cool and gentle. Neither of them spoke for a while - the silence was oddly comforting.
And then, without warning, her head slowly leaned sideways until it rested against his shoulder.
Neil froze.
He turned his head slightly, looking down at her.
Her lashes brushed lightly against her cheeks, her lips parted just enough for her steady breath to escape.
The exhaustion on her face softened her usual fire - the same woman who could argue endlessly, scold him like a child, and still light up an entire room with her laugh was now fast asleep on his shoulder.
A small, involuntary smile curved his lips.
His mind wandered. At the hospital, she was fierce - questioning, curious, always trying to learn, sometimes even daring to correct him.
At home, she was chaos - unpredictable, messy, stubborn, but still managed to make every corner feel alive.
And now, sitting here in the quiet under the stars, she was. .. peaceful.
Too peaceful.
He exhaled softly, his gaze drifting to a stray strand of hair tickling her forehead. Without thinking, he brushed it away with gentle fingers, careful not to wake her.
How can one person switch between storms and calm like this? he thought, his eyes still on her.
For a man who'd built his life around precision and control, she was the one thing that didn't fit his plan - and maybe that's exactly why he couldn't look away.
Cynthia held up two mugs with "Mr." and "Mrs." written in gold. "What do you think? Too cliché?"
Callum chuckled, adjusting his sunglasses while leaning against the counter. "You've already picked five things, Cyn. How much more are you planning to buy?"
She gave him a playful glare. "Oh, hush. They are the newlyweds. I want to gift them cute stuff."
"I wanna give Something that says 'you two better start acting like a married couple."
Callum laughed. "I like that one."
He picked up a matching set of silk robes from the display-navy blue and blush pink. "How about these?"
Cynthia's eyes widened. "perfect !"
He grinned. " It's romantic."
She rolled her eyes but smiled, picturing Neil's reaction. "Neil would die before wearing that."
"Exactly," Callum said, clearly amused. "That's the point."
After a few more minutes of playful banter, they selected one more classic gift - an engraved silver photo frame that read "Home is wherever you are."
Cynthia smiled as the shopkeeper wrapped it. "You know... they look good together. Eva brings something to Neil that no one else ever could."
Callum's tone softened. "Yeah. I've never seen him look at anyone that way."
She looked at him and smirked. "You're getting sentimental, Mr. Morris."
He chuckled, slipping an arm around her waist as they walked out. "Maybe you're rubbing off on me."
_ _ _
Eva moved her hands, searching for the blanket, but instead of soft fabric, her fingers brushed against something unfamiliar-warm, textured, and faintly sharp.
Her brows furrowed and eyes flew open. Morning light filtered through the curtains, and right beside her-too close-was Neil.
His face inches away, his breath slow and steady.
Her heart jumped. "Oh my god-" she whispered, trying to slide away quietly, but his hand moved-landing on her waist in his sleep.
She froze.
The "something unfamiliar" was not a blanket. It was Neil's face. His trimmed beard tickled her. Before she could move he gripped her pulling her more towards him
The warmth of his palm made her breath hitch; every nerve in her body decided to wake up before her brain did. She turned slightly-his lashes, his steady breath, that perfectly calm face as if he owned the bed... and maybe her morning too.
Before she could push his hand away, he stirred.
Neil's eyes opened, groggy at first, then sharp the moment he registered her expression. "Morning, Mrs. Morris," he murmured, voice husky with sleep.
Her eyes widened in horror. Then realisation hit her."WHAT-" she yelped, sitting up so fast that the sheet almost flew off the bed.
Neil stirred, groaning faintly. His hand went to his hair as he squinted at her. "Why are you screaming like someone died?" His voice was still heavy with sleep, rough and low.
"Because-because I woke up next to you!" she stammered, clutching the blanket to her chest. "How did I even get here? Why am I not in my room? Did you-did I-what happened last night?"
Neil blinked at her, completely unbothered. "You fell asleep on my shoulder," he said simply, stretching one arm behind his head. "You wouldn't wake up even when I tried. So, I carried you home."
Eva's eyes widened even more. "You carried me? Like-literally carried me?"
He turned his head to her, a lazy smirk forming. "No, teleported you," he said dryly. "Of course, I carried you. You were snoring by the time we reached the car."
"I do not snore!" she gasped.
Neil raised a brow. "Then maybe that cute little noise was your battle cry."
"Ugh, you're --," she muttered, her cheeks turning pink. "And why am I in your room?"
"You didn't let go of my shirt when I put you down on the couch," he replied casually, sitting up and rubbing his neck. "So, unless I wanted to sleep standing, I had no choice."
Eva gaped at him, completely flustered. "That's not even-! You should've just-"
"What?" he interrupted, tilting his head. "Left you there drooling on the sofa?"
Her mouth fell open. "I was not drooling!"
Neil smirked, eyes glinting with amusement. "Whatever , Mrs.Morris"
She threw a pillow at him, but he caught it effortlessly, laughing softly-an unguarded, genuine sound she rarely heard from him.
Eva crossed her arms, pouting. "You're so mean in the mornings."
He leaned forward, his tone softening just a little. "You talk a lot in the mornings"
Her lips parted, ready with a comeback-but she caught his look, that faint trace of a smile behind his usual calmness. Her heartbeat stumbled.
"Breakfast?" he said, standing up and walking toward the door. "Or should I assume you'll need another carrying session?"
"Neil!" she called, glaring at his retreating back.
He just chuckled. "I like my name coming from you, Sleeping Beauty."
Eva blinked, still half tangled in the blanket. "Mrs. Morris? Sleeping Beauty?" she repeated, squinting at him. "What's wrong with you, Neil?"
He turned just enough for her to see the teasing curve of his lips. "Everything feels right to me," he said, pulling on his watch. "Now come on-we'll be late."
"Late? You mean hospital?" she asked, fumbling to fix her hair.
Neil shook his head, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Nope. No hospital for today."
Eva frowned, pausing mid-motion. "Then where are we going?"
He met her gaze with that unreadable calm that always made her nervous. "We have work."
Her eyes widened. "We?"
"If you want answers," he said, opening the door and glancing over his shoulder, "then yes-we."
He walked out, leaving her standing there with a mix of confusion and curiosity twisting in her chest. Whatever "work" meant, she knew one thing for sure-Neil Morris never changed his schedule for anyone. So why her?