Chapter 18
18
CATHERINE
C atherine’s eyelids fluttered open, and she found herself lying in a hospital bed. The sterile smell of the room and the soft beeping of machines all felt distant and unreal. The pain in her head pulsed, but there was something else—something she couldn’t put her finger on. Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on a familiar face.
There, sitting at her bedside, was Lexi. Beautiful Lexi. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she looked tired, but her gaze softened when their eyes met.
“Lexi?” Catherine’s voice was rough. “What happened?”
Lexi’s expression faltered for a moment, as though she was holding herself together by a thread. “You had an accident,” she said gently. “You hit your head. You’re going to be okay. You’re alive, Catherine.”
Catherine’s thoughts scrambled to piece things together. “An accident?” she repeated, her mind still clouded from the effects of anesthesia. “How bad? How long…?”
“Take it easy,” Lexi urged as she brushed a stray lock of hair from Catherine’s forehead. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”
Catherine’s hand instinctively moved to her head, touching the bandages wrapped around it. The memories of the fight with James surged to the surface. The argument, the chaos—it all felt like a nightmare that couldn’t be real.
“James?” Catherine’s voice cracked, a sense of panic gripping her chest. “Where is he? Is he here?”
Lexi’s jaw tightened, and she swallowed hard before responding. “He’s not here. He…he left, said something about needing to catch a flight.” Her voice was tight, but her eyes stayed soft as she gazed down at Catherine. “You’re safe now.”
Catherine blinked as reality sank in. James had left, but the relief she felt was mixed with a strange sadness. Her focus shifted back to Lexi.
“Thank you,” Catherine whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know what would have happened without you.”
Lexi gave a small nod and squeezed Catherine’s hand lightly. “You don’t need to thank me. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
As the afternoon sun cast golden rectangles across the hospital room floor, Catherine drifted in and out of sleep. Each time she opened her eyes, Lexi was still there—sometimes reading through patient files, sometimes just watching her with quiet concern. It was during one of these moments of wakefulness that Catherine tried to reach for the water glass on her bedside table, wincing as pain shot through her head with the movement.
"Here, let me," Lexi said, immediately at her side. She gently supported Catherine's head with one hand while holding the glass to her lips with the other. The simple act of care made Catherine's chest tighten with emotion.
"The nurses could help with this," Catherine murmured after taking a sip. "You don't have to stay."
Lexi set the glass down and adjusted Catherine's pillows, her movements deliberate and gentle. "I want to be here," she said simply. She sat back down, closer to the bed this time. "Besides, I've rearranged my surgeries. I'm all yours today."
Catherine studied Lexi's face—the slight shadows under her eyes, the determined set of her jaw. "You haven't slept, have you?"
Lexi gave a small, dismissive shrug. "I've gone longer without sleep during residency." She reached out and carefully took Catherine's hand, her thumb tracing small circles on her palm. "How's the pain?"
"Bearable," Catherine said, though they both knew it was an understatement. "Lexi, I keep thinking about what happened. About James..." Her voice faltered.
"You don't have to talk about it now," Lexi assured her.
Catherine shook her head slightly, needing to get the words out. "No, I need to say this. When he pushed me, it wasn't intentional—I know that. But it doesn't matter, does it? That's what I keep thinking about. All these years of feeling invisible, of walking on eggshells, and now this." She took a shaky breath. "I told him, you know. I told him I was leaving him… just before this happened.” She sighed. “Why did I stay so long?”
Lexi's eyes filled with a tender understanding that made Catherine feel seen in a way James never had. "Because leaving is hard," Lexi said softly. "Because we're taught to fix things, not abandon them. Because you're a doctor who saves people, and somewhere along the way, you thought you could save your marriage too."
A tear slipped down Catherine's cheek. No one had ever articulated her feelings so perfectly before. "You know me better than anyone," she whispered.
"I pay attention," Lexi replied, gently wiping away Catherine's tear. "I see you. I've always seen you, Catherine."
For a long moment, they sat in comfortable silence. The hospital sounds faded into the background—the beeping monitors, the squeaking wheels of meal carts in the hallway, the distant pages over the intercom. In this quiet bubble, Catherine felt something shifting inside her—fear giving way to resolve.
"Would you mind opening the window?" Catherine asked eventually. "I'd like to feel the air."
Lexi nodded and crossed to the window. As she pushed it open, a gentle breeze filled the room, carrying with it the faint scent of the hospital gardens below.
"Better?" Lexi asked.
Catherine nodded, closing her eyes briefly to savor the fresh air on her face. When she opened them again, she found herself struck by the way the afternoon light illuminated Lexi's profile against the window. There was something so steady about her presence, so reassuring.
"Remember when we first met?" Catherine asked suddenly. "I was so flustered by you."
A smile tugged at Lexi's lips. "I remember. You were wearing that black lace bra."
Catherine felt heat rise to her cheeks. "I meant in surgery the next day," she said, though she couldn't help smiling too.
"That too," Lexi said, returning to her chair. "You were brilliant. The way you handled that bowel resection—I'd never seen anything so precise."
"You noticed that?" Catherine asked, genuinely surprised.
"I notice everything about you," Lexi said quietly. She hesitated before adding, "I also remember thinking how sad you looked when you thought no one was watching."
Catherine's breath caught. All those years of carefully constructed walls, and Lexi had seen through them from the very beginning.
"I'm not sad now," Catherine said, and was surprised to find it was true. Despite the pain, despite the uncertainty of what lay ahead, there was a lightness in her chest she hadn't felt in years. A beginning.
Lexi's expression softened. "Good," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's all I want."
As the afternoon faded toward evening, they talked about small things—hospital gossip, a journal article Lexi had been reading, a patient Catherine had been worried about. Normal things, everyday things, but each conversation thread weaving them closer together. When a nurse came in to check Catherine's vitals, she found them laughing softly over a story Lexi was telling about her disastrous attempt at making soufflé.
"Your color's better," the nurse observed, checking Catherine's chart. "Dr. Bond must be good medicine."
After the nurse left, Catherine found herself watching Lexi as she straightened the items on the bedside table—arranging the water glass, tissues, and call button within easy reach. There was something so intimate about these small gestures of care, something that touched Catherine more deeply than grand declarations ever could.
Later that evening, after the hospital had quieted down and the only sound was the faint beeping of the heart monitor, Lexi sat by Catherine’s bedside again. She looked more at ease now, her posture relaxed as she glanced up from the notebook in her hands.
Catherine turned her head slowly, her hand resting on the blanket. “I can’t believe it’s finally over,” she said softly, the words coming out like a breath she’d been holding for years. “Ending it. I wanted to. So much. But, I was so afraid.”
Lexi looked at her, the soft light from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow on her face. “You made the right choice, Catherine. You deserve to be happy. You’ve been living for him for too long. You need to start living for yourself.”
Catherine swallowed hard, past the lump forming in her throat. “I’m scared, Lexi. I’m scared of being alone. I’ve never really been on my own. But I can’t keep pretending this marriage was anything other than what it was.”
Lexi moved closer, her voice steady and filled with quiet reassurance. “You don’t have to be alone. If you’re really leaving him…you have me. And whatever happens next, you’re not alone.”
Catherine turned her head to meet Lexi’s gaze, and in that moment, she saw the sincerity in her eyes. There was no judgment, no hesitation—only understanding.
“I never thought I’d be here,” Catherine admitted, her voice soft but clear. “With you. After everything. But I don’t want to lose you, Lexi. Not after all this. I love you.”
Lexi’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. She reached for Catherine’s hand and gently caressed it with her thumb. “I love you, too. I always did. Right from the start. You won’t lose me…not unless you decide to. But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
A wave of gratitude washed over Catherine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe in something beyond the mess she’d made of her life. She could have a future—one where she wasn’t bound to someone who couldn’t see her, where she didn’t have to hide her love.
“I’ve made my decision,” Catherine said, her voice steady as the weight of it settled over her like a shield. “Once I’m out of here, I’m filing for divorce. I’m done with James. I’ve been done for a long time. I just needed to find the courage to say it out loud to him. And now I have.”
Lexi’s eyes softened as she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Catherine’s ear. “I’m proud of you,” she said quietly. “You’re stronger than you know.”
Catherine smiled, a genuine, small smile that felt foreign on her face. She hadn’t smiled in a long time, not truly. But with Lexi here, with the possibility of a future—there was hope.
The soft hum of the hospital room was comforting in its familiarity. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the quiet beeping of machines had become the soundtrack of Catherine’s recovery. She lay in the bed, her head wrapped in bandages, eyes half-lidded as she stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t a bad day, but it wasn’t good, either. There were moments when the pain in her head was bearable, and others when it felt like a vise, squeezing tighter with every passing second.
A gentle knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She blinked, squinting at the figure who entered—Lexi, of course, with that soft, familiar smile, the one that made Catherine’s heart skip.
“Hey, how’s my favorite patient?” Lexi’s voice was light, but there was an undertone of concern that Catherine didn’t miss.
“I’m surviving,” Catherine answered, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but it came out a little flat. Her headache was making it hard to be anything but tired.
Lexi gave a soft laugh as she walked over to the side of the bed, holding something behind her back. “You’re not allowed to say you’re surviving with a frown on your face, like it’s a bad thing. Besides, I brought you something.”
Catherine raised an eyebrow. “What is it, a cure for my headache?”
“Something better.” Lexi revealed a thermos from behind her back, carefully placing it on the bedside table. Catherine blinked in surprise—it wasn’t a bouquet of flowers like most people would bring to a hospital room, but it sparked her curiosity.
“I didn’t know if you’d be up for eating, so I figured I’d try this first,” Lexi said, opening the thermos to reveal steaming tea. “Chamomile with a little honey. It’s your favorite, right?”
Catherine’s lips quirked into a smile. “You remember.”
“I remember a lot of things.” Lexi’s gaze softened as she poured the tea, the liquid swirling in the cup with a calming warmth. “Like how you always drink this when you’re stressed, or how you prefer it without the lemon.”
Catherine watched her, her chest tightening a little. She hadn’t realized how much she missed these small details—the way Lexi paid attention to her, the way she knew her preferences without needing to ask. It was a kindness that had always been there, and it suddenly felt like a comfort she couldn’t live without.
Lexi handed her the mug carefully, her fingers brushing against Catherine’s as she did so. “Here,” she said softly. “I know it’s just tea, but I thought it might help.”
Catherine took the mug, savoring the warmth that seeped into her hands. She lifted it to her lips, the soothing steam drifting up to meet her face, and took a slow sip. It was perfect, just the way she liked it—a little sweet, with the hint of chamomile that always seemed to calm her nerves.
“Thank you,” she murmured, meeting Lexi’s gaze over the rim of the mug.
“Of course,” Lexi replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She moved to sit in the chair beside the bed, pulling it closer as if settling in for a long visit. “I know you’re probably tired, but I’m not leaving. You’ve got me for the whole evening.”
Catherine raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? What did I do to deserve such a devoted nurse?”
Lexi’s smile widened, a bit of playfulness creeping into her tone. “You’re lucky, that’s what. But honestly, it’s not a bad gig. I’ve got a front-row seat to your stunning recovery.”
Catherine chuckled softly, the sound slightly strained but genuine. “Right. It’s a real show.”
“Best kind of show,” Lexi said warmly. She leaned back in the chair, her eyes never leaving Catherine. “But seriously…how are you feeling?”
Catherine set the mug down on the table, her fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly. “I’m okay,” she said, though the words didn’t feel quite right. The truth was, she wasn’t okay. She hadn’t been okay for a long time. “Head hurts a bit, but I’m managing.”
Lexi nodded, her expression understanding but quiet, as if she could see through the mask Catherine was wearing. Without another word, she stood and walked to the window, pulling the blinds slightly to let more light into the room. The late afternoon sun bathed the room in a golden glow, the light dancing over the hospital linens and making everything feel a little less sterile, a little more alive.
“There,” Lexi said, turning back to Catherine. “I thought you might like some sunlight. You’ve been cooped up in here for a while.”
Warmth spread through her chest at Lexi’s thoughtfulness. She’d never realized how much she wanted such simple gestures —they made her feel like she was the most important person in the room, like everything she did mattered.
“It’s nice,” Catherine admitted, her voice soft. “It really is.”
Lexi sat back down, her chair creaking slightly under the shifting weight. “I know things are complicated, but I want you to know I’m here. Whatever you need, whatever you’re feeling—I’m here for you.”
Catherine met her gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. The chaos of the past—the break-up, the accident, everything—felt like a distant memory. Right now, it was just Lexi, quietly offering her care in the most simple, beautiful ways.
“I know,” Catherine whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “And I…I don’t know how I could get through this without you.”
Lexi’s smile softened, her eyes shining with something unspoken. “You’re stronger than you think. But I’m not going anywhere, Catherine. Not now. Not ever.”
Catherine closed her eyes briefly, her heart swelling in her chest. She didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, she felt hope for something better—something that was hers, something she didn’t have to hide.
“Thank you,” she said again, this time with more sincerity, her voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”
Lexi’s fingers brushed against Catherine’s hand again, this time lingering a little longer. “Always.”