CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Hospital Intimacy
SERENITY
I took Friday and Saturday off of work, and Jimena surprised me by covering my Sunday shift, too. But a long weekend isn’t nearly enough time. The smile I’m holding is struggling to stay on. I’ve been trying to sound reassuring to my patients, but I don’t think I’m doing a good job. How can I assure others that their world can be glued together when mine is crumbling?
Jimena’s been checking on me every chance she gets. She’s established a new ritual of texting me every hour, because she knows I’m not okay.
I’m trying to stop insisting that I am.
I’ve gone through this entire shift watching my existence through a distant lense, feeling like I’m detached from my body. I just want to be home, and I’m thankful I finally get to leave. My last few patients were discharged, so all I need to do is remake their beds, and I’ll be ready to go. I won’t feel any different, but at least I can spare people the agony of my presence.
My forearm covers my lips as they stretch, and a yawn whistles out of me. I open the door to the linen closet and grab a stack of cotton sheets, twirling back around and dragging my heavy feet through the halls. Sunlight hits my shoes and rises up the walls. Daytime makes the ER ten times less dreadful usually, but not today.
I attempt to widen my forced smile at the beaming sun, but I can feel the brokenness on my face, so I let it slip away as I turn the corner.
My shoes squeak on the tile, and it’s like a bolt of lightning smites me. I can’t determine if I’m dead or alive, because a way too familiar man stands at the empty nurse’s station, roughing his wavy hair out of his face. The same way he did months ago, but there’s no flashy, fake grin on his face.
He’s not looking for drugs this time. He’s looking for me.
I’m almost happy to see him leaning against the counter, stronger than ever, curving his biceps as he runs his fingers along his jaw. It’s melting and reviving to watch him stand firm, instead of clutching onto an IV.
He stops searching around when he hears my shoes. He turns, hitting me right in the chest with the light washing through his eyes. “Serenity.” He stands to his full height, moving closer. “Angel.”
I missed my name leaving his lips.
No. I will not speak with him. He only left me a few days ago. He doesn’t get to call me anything at all, because he hurt me. That’s reason one. I’m in pain both from him and from the marks on his face. Reason two, my personality, my principles, are doing a one-eighty. It’s too fresh of a wound. I can’t handle him.
My feet lead me the other way. I pick up speed, trying to think of a space I can hide.
If I’d be hiding from anyone today, I would’ve expected it to be Caleb. So much stress fizzled out of my body when I realized Caleb wasn’t working the floor tonight. I assumed that made me safe from bolting and hiding, but my husband, who seems to have run away just a second ago, is chasing me through the hallway.
What is he doing here?
There’s no time to worry about that. I dash faster and slip around a corner, drawing the curtain shut behind me. The stack of sheets I’m holding against my chest brings some relief to the pressure I’m absorbing, so I find the strength to drop into a deep squat, keeping my eyes on the floor beyond the curtain.
Lake’s footsteps thump by. He pauses for a moment, turning in a full circle. He’s trying to spot me, but he twists back and continues down the hall.
“Okay,” I whisper.
I’ll change the sheets, go back up the hallway, fix the rest of the beds I need to change, then I’ll sneak my way to the break room, grab my stuff, and make another run for it.
I drop the clean sheets on the tiny table in the corner. I make sure not to move my feet at all, maintaining them firm on the tile as I remove the old sheet and throw it into the hazard bin behind me.
My mind is becoming so crowded with thoughts, they’re folding over each other, and for a minute I just stare at the bare mattress. I’m trying to grasp what happened last Thursday. Plus my broken heart, my toxic family, and my amazing best friend. She’s shockingly grown attached to my husband’s brother. I don’t believe Lake knows any of that.
I know he only left four days ago. Everything is still murky, so I hate that my first thought was how much I missed him and how proud of him I am. I’m thankful—or I think I should be thankful—my love-struck brain remembered what reality is.
The fresh sheet lengths across the mattress when I hear the same stumpy footsteps I’ve grown used to. They’re coming back my way. I’m bent over the mattress, fixing the corner of the sheet, when the steps draw closer, then stop. I don’t move a muscle. I don’t even breathe.
He whispers under his breath, like he’s hyping himself up, before veering back the curtain.
I pop upward, hitting my butt on the little table. It rocks back and forth behind me.
“Knew I was right,” he says to himself, closing the curtain.
With him in close proximity, I expect to feel sadness, and I do, but it’s mixed up with desperation. I try to switch it to anger. Lake’s shown up at my work while I’m working, calling my name, and now entering my space. He left me. I should be upset. I need to be.
“What are you doing here?” I question.
He studies me from head to toe, like he hasn’t set his sights on me in years. That handsome chest rising and falling. Quietly, but harshly. The sleeves of his sweater are rolled up, so I narrow in on his inner elbows, checking for anything new. There’s nothing but his inked skin. Though that doesn’t mean he’s sober.
“Here to see you.”
My body wants to soften, but I keep my ground, and the words fly out of my mouth without me worrying about how rough they sound. “Why? You left me.”
“I know.” His shoulders drop. “I’m sorry, Serenity.”
I return to my priorities of fixing this sheet so I can escape, but that’s difficult when his eyes stay on me, burning holes into my scrubs and charring my flesh.
Honestly, I wasn’t expecting him to apologize, but maybe weaponizing him to make this easier isn’t the play. He’s not a bad person. It’s impossible to make him seem that way, no matter what I tell myself.
He steps closer. “I should’ve listened to you. Had no idea what was going on, Angel.”
“What do you mean?” I peer back at him.
“I only read your sister’s obituary.” He holds our eye contact, and there’s life in his eyes that wasn’t there the first time we met in Boston Hope. “Didn’t know about everything else, but I know now, and I’m sorry, honey.”
I shake my head. “How?”
He points to the fresh cut on his nose. “Your friend taught me my lesson and told me what was going on.”
Oh, Jimena. Despite her checking on me, she hasn’t come back to my place since I told her what’s happening. I assumed she must’ve been busy, but I didn’t imagine she would track down Lake and smack him silly.
He’s setting all of me on fire the longer he stares, so I break away. “Forget it, Lake. It doesn’t matter.” What does matter is the need I carry to apologize. I choke out, “I’m sorry I kept it all a secret.”
I don’t register that he’s been inching closer to me until his hands take mine and pull them off of the narrow mattress. He turns my body to face him, and he ducks, attempting to meet my eyes.
“You said what you needed to say.” My bottom lip quivers. “Is there something else you want?”
“I know you don’t want anyone’s help,” he voices. “You were never a burden to me. I need you to understand that.”
For the millionth time, I am swarmed with emotions I cannot tackle.
How could I ever not melt in his presence? If he can be upset but still chase me down, take me into his space and say things like that? Why did he go if he says things like that? Why is he back, still speaking those words into my ears, and filtering out all this stress he’s now aware is weighing on my back? Why? Just why.
“Look at me, Angel.”
I don’t. “What happened to your face?”
“Angel.” His hands smooth up my neck, resting on my jawline.
“Talk to me, Phoenix.” I cave in and meet him. “Why aren’t you talking to me?” My throat scratches. “Is it because I didn’t? I promise, I just—”
He pulls me by the jaw and smashes our mouths together. I can taste the worry on his lips. Worried he’d never kiss me again, and I kiss him back, because I feared the same thing.
I lift on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck and sucking in every part of him I can get. I feel my chest crack into watery air, freeing me from captivity for the first time in four days. The thawing sparks my heart back into motion, fluttering and slamming all around my ribcage, because he’s filling me back with oxygen. My lifeline, I am breathing.
We pivot a few steps back, but then Lake takes me by the waist and nudges me onto the hospital bed, moving himself between my thighs. He takes both his hands to tilt back my head, deepening our kiss.
A gentle moan snaps out of me. “Lake, Lake, I’m working.” I put my hand on his chest, nudging him back.
He lowers his palm onto my hand and presses himself back to where he was. In my space, resting between me. “You’re off the clock,” he grunts.
I shake my head. “We’re at my workplace. This is a hospital.”
“Are you asking me to stop kissing you, Serenity?” He huffs. “Because I’ve been dead the last ninety-six hours, and I can’t find life unless it comes from you and that pretty mouth.”
I detonate as soft and harmonious as one can. The anguish written all over him drowns me in so much empathy I forget where we are. It’s just him, I, and the beating of our hearts.
He’s brought back my air. I am whole on my own, but I am more with him. “You make me greedy, Phoenix.”
He blows out an aching sigh. “Let me make you rich then, honey.”
His hand lowers from my face, taking his time to consider everything he touches. My neck, past my arms, and around my waist. Meanwhile, his other hand is still squeezing the palm I have on his chest.
Even with the cuts and bruises on his face, he remains just as handsome. It is painful to not know what caused those marks, but the need in his eyes will softly kill me if I don’t let him kiss me again.
“Please kiss me—”
I don’t finish my sentence before his lips return, silencing me, and we both take a deep, reviving breath. I rub my fingers on the back of his neck to soothe any nerves he may have, and Lake continues tracing my skin like he’s memorizing every bit of me.
“My beautiful angel,” he grunts, pushing his mouth back against mine.
I clutch onto the back of his head, driving my tongue into his mouth and flushing it with his. He squeezes a hand onto my waist, and dips himself even lower, so I won’t need to break my neck just to kiss him. Just to live.
He keeps our kiss simmering and passionate, even as he snags the tie in my hair, carefully sets the strands free, and slips the band onto my wrist. Because Lake cannot stay still, and maybe he’s burning too, he surrenders his need to fidget by clasping his fingers through my hair and controlling my angled head however he pleases.
I choke back as many hushed noises as I can, but he knows my mouth so well. Everything he does feels amplified, perfect. So I huff through my nostrils with him, trying to change my hushed whines into hefty breaths, but my heart drops into my stomach when someone’s footsteps approach. I give Lake wide eyes.
All I get back is the sexy crinkle in the corner of his. He pulls away for a moment, making a silent shush sound, then turns my head and plants kisses on my neck.
He moves up to my ear and whispers, “stay quiet for me, honey.”
Whoever the person is, they continue walking past the curtain. Their footsteps fading out through the hallway.
“See?” Lake says. “Everything is fine.” He leans in, planting a kiss on my forehead and hairline.
I reach forward and yank him by the collar of his sweater. “If I am going to risk my job for you, Phoenix, you need to kiss me harder.”
He grins. That simple request leads my husband to sit right beside me and swiftly pull me right into his lap. “Then you need higher ground, Angel.”
Everything around me dwindles out. Lake dives back into my mouth, rocking our tongues together and hushing any noise that tries to escape us. I shiver and squeeze myself closer to him as his chilly hands slip under my shirt and gently run along my spine.
I want nothing more than to holler out how he makes me feel, but I keep as quiet as I can, savoring how blissful this is. But then his kisses get slower. More intimate and less aggressive.
Another few minutes pass, like the tides are calming and sinking deeper into the ocean. Until his lips are nothing but a brush on mine, and I open my eyes to find him already watching me.
“You are everything,” he tells me, placing a gentle peck on my cheek. “It’s all going to be fine, Angel, alright?”
I blink. “Are you coming home?”
He moves me off of his lap and stands, sorrow returning to his features. That simple look is enough to slice our hospital intimacy in half.
“Lake.” I follow his few steps. “Why’d you kiss me? What is the point if you aren’t coming back?”
He stops before the curtain. “I’m sorry.”
“Is it because I said I love you? Because I can’t take that back, Lake.” I push my hair out of my face. “I’m trying not to keep secrets anymore, but you don’t need to love me to come home.”
“No, Serenity.” He turns back to me, his eyebrows dropping.
“What?” I crane back my neck. My chest is nearly touching his ribs when I breathe in. “What do you mean, no?”
“It’s not like that,” he says. “Shit. I kept a secret too. Who would I be if I didn’t love you?”
The stressed and worn parts of me withdraw. They fill and bloom into something much brighter. Something I don’t understand, but I find a deep comfort in.
“You love me?”
“Of course I do.” His voice is straining. “But I can’t come home.”
My brain cannot grasp what he’s saying, or why, so I latch onto his arm to get a clearer answer. “Why not? Are you still angry with me? You can be angry with me. Just come home.”
He sighs. “I’m not angry with you at all.”
“Is it something to do with your face?” I squeeze his forearm. “Lake, just talk to me.”
“I'm sorry, Angel. I needed to see you.” He wavers before sinking another slow and tender kiss onto my cheek. “I gotta go.”
The kiss feels the same as the one earlier. A fear that it’ll never happen again. “No, no.” I shake my head. “Do not walk out of here and leave me again. Do not break my heart, Phoenix.”
He makes a quiet, hurting noise. “I’m sorry, honey. I gotta protect you.”
I almost miss the last part as he pulls his arm out of my grip. “What do you mean?”
He drags open the curtain, ending our conversation. I can’t follow him anymore, because patients will wonder what’s happening. He knows that, so why is he leaving? What is the point of a glimpse if he’s only going to pry it back from my hands?
“Lake.” I beg one last time.
This time, unlike at the evil front door of my home, he doesn’t hesitate to peer back at me. A brokenness, a finalization is clouding him, but he goes anyway, leaving me all over again.