Chapter 6 Xander
XANDER
News spreads quickly about the death of Caleb Stern.
I wanted to put a name to the man I saw Snow with, but doing so while learning about his death is simply cruel.
I look for her after the news reaches me, but she’s nowhere to be found.
Visiting her feels inappropriate, given how little we know each other, so I wait until I see her.
She doesn’t come to work the next day.
Or the day after.
Trauma surgeries keep me busy and news about Caleb trickles to me through information snatched from hushed conversations between nurses and doctors.
His car hit a patch of ice and crashed straight into a tree.
He died on impact and those on site spent time actually searching for Snow since it was her car and they feared she’d been flung from the wreckage.
Thankfully, she was at home when the crash happened.
I finally see her a few days after the news drops, but chances to speak to her are slim.
She throws herself into her work, and with my already full, unpredictable schedule, I’m only granted a glimpse of her in the halls as the days pass.
She looks exhausted but her smile remains when dealing with patients.
Everyone is gentle with her, even Jen, which is the most surprising.
Before I know it, a week’s passed and I haven’t had a chance to offer my condolences.
I can’t wait much longer and as I pack up my office for the night, a pager alert cuts through my plans to head straight to Snow’s place and see how she’s doing.
The ER is overwhelmed and needs assistance with a specific patient.
Odd.
I don’t have any current patients who should be in the ER and I’m not the surgeon on call.
Rather than messaging back, I grab my coat and take the longer path down to the ER while adjusting the timing of my plan.
Even if it’s late, hopefully, Snow won’t mind my appearing unannounced.
“Xander!” Fred greets me as soon as I walk into the ER. “About time.”
“I’m not on call, what do you want?” Of course it was him. If he’s about to give me some spiel about how he needs me to cover, then I’m taking great pleasure in telling him to deal.
“I need you to take a look at a patient,” Fred says, already walking backward toward a curtain closed around a bed.
“I’m not on call so if you need a consult, then you need to call Lee.”
“I think you’ll want this one,” Fred says, ignoring me.
He reaches the curtain and just as another protest rises in my throat, he pulls it back a few inches.
Snow sits on the bed, swinging her legs back and forth with her forearm cradled in her lap.
“Snow?”
“She’s drunk,” Fred warns in a low voice as he passes me. “Her friends ditched her out front and left. Figured you’d wanna tend to her since she’s from your department.”
“Thanks.” I make a mental note to thank Fred later, once I get over the surprise that he did something nice, and hurry to Snow’s bedside. As soon as the curtain is drawn closed, I toss my coat onto the floor and face her.
“Snow?”
She blinks blearily, then gazes up at me with slightly unfocused eyes.
As soon as she recognizes me, her face breaks into a wide smile. “Xander!”
“What happened?” Taking the seat in front of her, my attention drops to the bloodied fabric hiding a wound on her forearm. “Can I take a look?”
“I just fell.” Snow laughs softly. “It doesn’t hurt!”
Easing her hand off the fabric, I remove wads of gauze to reveal a four-inch gash across the back of her forearm.
Blood immediately weeps from the wound, so I cover it again and look up at her, masking my concern. “How did this happen?”
She shrugs. “It was icy and I was dancing and I fell.”
“You got this from a fall?”
“Mhm. My wine smashed when I fell, can you believe it?” Swaying slightly back and forth, she groans. “It was expensive.”
A wine bottle. Now things make more sense. “Okay, Snow?”
“Mhm!” Her gaze returns to me and she smiles widely again.
“I’m going to get some things to clean you up, then you need some stitches. Have you taken anything tonight other than alcohol?”
“Ew, no,” she protests immediately. “I would never!”
“I’m just checking. Stay here for me, okay?”
“Okay.” She hums to herself and her head lolls to one side as I place her palm back over the gauze. “Ow.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”
Twenty minutes later, Snow’s arm rests on a pillow while I gently weave thread through the gash and stitch the weeping wound closed.
I found no glass in the wound so my only concern is closing the wound before she passes out.
“Ow,” Snow whines softly. “Why are you being so rough?”
“I’m not touching you right now,” I remind her as I prepare the next stitch.
“Oh.” Her face crumples. “Oops.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“I told you.”
“I know, but I want to hear more about your night.”
“It was just a night.” She sways a little more.
“I was sad and I wanted to go drinking, so we went drinking and it was fun.” She hiccups.
“And then it was time to leave and I didn’t want to, but they made us, so I was annoyed and walking fast and there was a patch of ice.
Whoosh!” She swings her other arm up into the air.
“I fell, the bottle smashed, and then I was bleeding and my friend Hannah was freaking out. Oh, my God. She was so scared.”
Snow giggles to herself and then trails off as if something in her thoughts sobered her amusement.
“I heard what happened to Caleb,” I say softly, my gaze down while I tie the last stitches. “I’m sorry, Snow.”
“It’s whatever,” she mutters. “He was a dick.”
“Was he?” I glance up, and tears cling in the corners of her eyes.
“Mhm. I told him as much because I hate him. And he hates me. And then he…” She hiccups again. “He stole my car, so it’s his own fault for… for…” Her face crumples.
“He must have meant a lot to you.”
“No, he didn’t,” Snow gasps, sniffling. “I don’t know why it makes me sad because he was horrible. He was just my ex but he… he died in my car. Because of fucking course he did. He had to screw me one last time, even in death.”
Her ex?
No one mentioned that in the gossip circling the hospital.
Finishing her stitches, I clean the area and start winding a fresh bandage over her wound.
“Regardless,” I say, keeping my tone gentle. “You’ve lost someone who was part of your life. That has impact, regardless of who they are.”
“Why are you being nice to me?” She sniffles, and when I look up at her, tears roll slowly down her cheeks.
“Because we’re friends,” I reply. “It’s what we do.”
“Friends,” she murmurs, hiccupping again. “Are my friends waiting for me?”
“No, Snow. I’m sorry. They left you here.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders sag as I apply the last curl of the bandage and secure it in place with tape.
“There you go. All patched up. I’ll get you some painkillers and then you’ll be good to go home.”
“Right.” Snow nods and curls her arm into her abdomen. “Thanks.”
She looks so defeated and forlorn on the bed, swinging her legs back and forth while I stand at the desk quickly filling in her paperwork and prescription for the antibiotics and painkillers.
Sending her home in this state doesn’t feel like the wisest move, but there’s no comfort to be had in a hospital.
A need grows within my chest. I won’t be able to rest until I know she’s okay, and I won’t get that here.
Once the prescription is filled, I approach her and enclose us within the curtain once more.
“Here, these are for you. One is for the pain and the other will help fight any infection.”
“Thanks.” She takes the bag and winces. “Ow.”
“Come home with me, Snow.” The words are out of me before I’ve even fully contemplated the risk I’m taking.
Caring for her makes her my patient, which muddies the waters of how I feel about her.
But I can’t in good conscience let her go home alone in this state.
“What?” She gazes up at me with bleary, wide eyes.
“Come home with me. Let me help you.”
“This is the bathroom. Please take a shower if you'd like. There’s a plastic sleeve under the sink that you can use to protect your arm. I’ll make some coffee.”
Snow sobered up somewhat on the drive to my apartment and she stands in the bathroom door, swaying slightly as uncertainty washes over her face.
“What about my clothes?” She plucks at her sparkling blouse. “I have no clothes.”
“I’ll leave clean clothes outside the door for you, okay?”
She nods slowly and steps into the bathroom.
After the door closes, I listen for the clunk of the shower then head through to the kitchen.
Having Snow here technically breaks a few rules since I listed myself as her primary care physician, but letting her go back to her apartment alone after everything that’s happened just didn’t sit right with me.
I replay her words back in the hospital while brewing up a fresh pot of coffee, drumming my fingers on the countertop.
Caleb was her ex.
If I’d found that out sooner, maybe I would have done something—
I cut off my own thoughts with a groan.
I can’t mistake her friendliness for anything other than what it is.
Simple pleasantries.
She’s my friend, if anything, and I don’t need any of my insecurities trying to read signs that don’t exist.
She’s hurt and grieving.
I need to be a pillar of support that lasts longer than the friends who ditched her at the hospital and ran.
While the coffee brews, I collect some soft clothes from my closet and lay them outside the bathroom for her.
By the time the coffee has brewed and I’ve poured two cups and made some toast, Snow’s in my kitchen looking rather adorable with my sweater and jogging pants hanging off her frame.
“Thank you,” she says, sniffling. Her eyes seem redder than before. She must have been crying again. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Coffee?”
She shakes her head and touches her abdomen. “I puked in your toilet. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I made toast to soak up the alcohol, but if you’re feeling queasy, it might not be best.”
“Is it… is it alright if I just go to sleep?” The soft way she speaks pulls at my heart as if she expects me to scold her or give her trouble for something as painfully natural as puking.
“You can sleep in my spare room. It might be a little cold, but I’ve turned on the heating for you. This way.” Leading the way through my apartment, just past the bathroom is another door that I open and turn on the light.
Simple decor lights up under the pale glow and Snow beelines for the bed.
She touches the cover with her fingertips, then turns to face me with a sad smile. “Thank you.”
“It’s no problem. Sleep well.”
As I close the door, that familiar yearning rises within me and my chest tightens as I head back to the kitchen.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone here in the apartment with me, and even longer since someone slept over.
I just hope it’s giving her the comfort I intend.
I’m woken the next morning by a loud scream of fright that drags me from my bed in a flurry.
Nearly tripping over myself, I sprint down the hallway to Snow’s room to find her upright in bed, staring alarmed at the foot of her bed.
“Are you alright?”
“You have cats?”
All three of my cats are interwoven together at the foot of her bed and as relief washes over me, I smile faintly. “Yes, I forgot to mention. Are you allergic?”
“No,” Snow gasps, patting her chest. “I just… I felt the weight and then couldn’t work out what the warmth was and just… wow.” She draws the blanket up to her chest and glances at me, then her face flushes a dark red and she squeaks, hiding her face in her hands. “Xander!”
“What?” A moment later, the morning chill in the air alerts me to my naked state and both my hands fly to cover my crotch.
Living alone and sleeping naked go hand in hand, and at the sound of Snow’s fear, I didn’t even think how this would look.
“I am so sorry!” Scrambling out of her room, I close the door with my foot. “I’ll make a start on breakfast!”
By the time bacon and eggs sizzle away in the pan, my embarrassment has passed.
My black cat, Willow, sits beside me on the counter watching with yellow eyes for any stray bacon pieces she can get her paws on. Tiger, the ginger lump, weaves about my ankles singing his morning song while Rustle, my white cat, attacks the bread wrapper with all her might.
Snow joins us just as I load the eggs onto two plates, her cheeks pink and unable to quite look me in the eye. “Hi.”
“Hi. I’m sorry. I sleep naked and I’m not used to guests. I hope I didn’t alarm you.”
“Alarm me?” Her cheeks darken slightly. “Not at all. I, uhm…” She clears her throat and finally looks up at me. “How much did I embarrass myself last night?”
“How much do you remember?”
She winces and examines her arm. “Not as much as I should. I’m not really much of a drinker, so a little hit really hard.”
“You were fine. Understandably weepy and wobbly, but you didn’t say or do anything I would consider embarrassing. Not compared to me.” A rare smile creeps across my face as I slide a plate toward her. “Hungry?”
She nods, then frowns and scans the kitchen to locate the constant rustling noise.
Spotting my cat Rustle, her brows lift. “Uhm… your cat is attacking your bread?”
“Rustle loves anything that makes a noise. It doesn’t matter what it is, she’s just obsessed.”
“Rustle,” Snow repeats as if storing that in her memory. “How cute. And the others?”
“This is Willow. Careful, she eats anything that isn’t nailed down. And this—” On cue, Tiger trips me up. “This is Tiger. Ankles beware.”
“Willow and Tiger. Wow, you’re a cat dad. I had no idea.” Her smile widens as she reaches for Willow and lets her sniff her fingers. “No one at the hospital would believe this.”
“Doesn’t really fit my cold reputation, does it?”
“Not at all.” Snow chuckles. “Wow.” Willow grants her permission and arches her back into Snow’s fingers just as she winces.
“How does your arm feel?”
“Numb,” she replies. “I was actually—” She’s cut off by a burst of music from her purse.
Pulling the zipper, she frees her phone and answers. “Hello?”
Giving her the most privacy I can, I step back to the stove and remove another strip of bacon from the packet, but unfortunately, it’s not needed.
“Oh, no. Oh— Xander, I’m so sorry. I have to go. Thank you for everything, but I really have to go!”
“Is everything alright?” The sudden upset in her voice makes me follow her all the way into the hall, but she flies out of my apartment without giving me an answer, leaving me with a spatula in my hand and Tiger around my ankles.
What could be so important this early in the morning?