Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Casey
When I got up to turn off the alarm, Oahu was still wrapped in that thick, damp blue darkness. I yanked my dark brown curls back hard, twisting them into a low ponytail tight enough to hurt. Made me look sharper. More like someone who'd been here for years.
The woman in the mirror wasn't Casey anymore—not that language major in cashmere sweaters dreaming about romance in Boston libraries. She was Ella. A single mom. Just another nurse at Oahu Community Hospital.
I buttoned my white uniform all the way up and checked the collar one more time.
Before I left, I cracked open the door to the next room. Five-year-old Tommy was out cold, one little foot sticking out from under the covers.
I walked over and tucked the corner back in.
His dark brown curls spread across the pillow, his breathing soft and steady.
I bent down and kissed his forehead. When my fingers brushed through that soft hair, something caught in my chest. Those bright blue eyes of his—they were Paul's. Exactly Paul's.
Every time I looked into those eyes, I remembered Paul in his tailored suit, standing on that street corner by the Four Seasons, telling me, "Casey, if you were in Diana's position, the Vincent Family would fall apart."
Yeah. I remembered it perfectly. I was just his "mistress." Something to kill time with.
I stood up and bit my lip, trying not to let myself go there again.
I grabbed a blue Post-it from the desk and scribbled fast: "Mommy's at work. Remember to drink the milk in the fridge when you wake up. Lina's coming to pick you up. Listen to your teacher at school. Love you, baby."
I stuck it on the alarm clock by Tommy's bed, took one last look at that peaceful little face, and walked out.
Downstairs, the morning breeze hit me head-on—thick with that Hawaiian heat and the smell of salt.
I climbed onto my beat-up secondhand bike, the chain already rusted, and started pedaling hard. The bike squeaked down the quiet street.
Six years ago, I'd left Boston with nothing but the tiny life growing inside me. Changed my name. Came to Oahu alone. From Boston's bone-cutting cold to Oahu's burning sun. From the fake sweetness of two people to the brutal reality of raising a kid solo.
I'd learned to fix pipes myself. Learned to reinforce the roof in a storm. Learned to hold Tommy through fevers in the middle of the night and run to the ER alone.
I didn't care that I'd gone from "prodigy" to "bottom-tier nurse." The first time Tommy wrapped his arms around me and said "Mommy," every bit of exhaustion and pain just evaporated. I swore I'd use these hands to earn real respect—for both of us.
When I got to the community hospital, the shift change was already underway.
The ER was always chaotic. No time to sit. I grabbed the chart and wove between beds.
"Ella, bed five needs a dressing change—cut himself on the reef, it's inflamed," the head nurse called from down the hall.
"Coming."
I crouched by the bed, peeled off the blood-soaked gauze, cleaned the wound, and applied ointment.
By ten a.m., I finally got five minutes. I stood at the vending machine, debating whether to blow two bucks on cheap black coffee.
"Have this instead, Ella."
Dr. Mark handed me a warm latte. He wore a crisp white coat, silver-rimmed glasses, and that perpetual gentle smile.
"Thanks, Mark." I took the coffee and sipped. Way better than vending machine sludge.
"Working nights today?" Mark leaned against the counter, eyes on my face. "I could pick up Tommy this afternoon. I'm taking my nephew to buy a surfboard—the kindergarten's right there."
My hand tightened around the cup. I nodded politely. "Thanks, Mark. You always pick him up. I feel terrible."
Mark smiled. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "It's no trouble. Tommy's a smart kid. I like spending time with him. Actually, Ella, I've been meaning to say, if you're free this weekend, maybe we could..." He stopped. That look in his eyes—I knew it too well. Hope.
Mark was a good man. Best pediatrician in the hospital. Kind. Six years ago, Casey might've fallen for that warmth. But I was Ella now.
"Mark," I cut him off fast, glancing at my watch, "I need to record vitals in room three. I'll get Tommy this afternoon. Thanks for helping out. I'll bring you some homemade coconut cookies tomorrow."
I didn't wait for an answer. Just turned and walked back into the chaos. I could feel Mark's eyes on my back. But I didn't turn around. Feelings were more dangerous than hurricanes.
After my shift, I picked up Tommy right on time.
He was crouched by the sandbox, holding a white shell up to the sun. The light came through it and painted his face red. When he saw me, he jumped up and ran into my arms.
"Mommy!" He shoved the shell into my pocket. "Look! I found this treasure in the sand! It's for you!"
I laughed and ruffled his messy curls. The soft texture under my fingers filled me with a happiness I'd never known before.
"Mommy, Lina said the luau this weekend has hula dancing! Can we go? She said she's wearing her prettiest grass skirt!"
"Yeah, we'll go." I nodded.
After work, I took Tommy to Lina's surf shop.
Six years ago, when I first landed in Oahu, I had nothing. I was desperate. It was Lina who took me in that rainy night when I was about to give birth—broke, terrified, alone.
Lina was a classic Hawaiian-Brazilian mix. Dark glowing skin, fiery personality. She was pushing surfboards on a customer when she saw us, dropped everything, and scooped up Tommy.
"Little hero! Did you behave at school today?" Lina planted a kiss on his cheek.
Tommy giggled and ran to the back to play with Lina's big dog. Lina pulled me behind the counter and handed me an ice-cold beer.
"So, Ella, Mark asked you out again today?" Lina raised an eyebrow and took a long pull.
I held the bottle and shook my head slowly. "Lina, I don't want a relationship. My life's calm now. Tommy's good. I don't want complications."
"Girl, you're twenty-eight, not eighty-two." Lina set down her beer and sighed. "Mark's a good man. The way he looks at you—like he'd carve his heart out and hand it to you."
"That's exactly why I can't drag him into this." I smiled bitterly, eyes drifting to the waves outside. "I can't go through that again, Lina. I don't have it in me to trust anyone like that anymore."
Lina went quiet for a moment, then patted my shoulder. "Six years, and you still haven't let that bastard go?"
"I let go of love. But I didn't let go of the lesson." I stared at the label on the bottle, voice low but firm. "He taught me one thing. You can't count on anyone but yourself."
The next few days, the temperature in Oahu climbed fast.
More patients flooded the hospital—tourists with heatstroke, surfers stung by sea life.
I kept up my usual brutal pace. Being busy was the best painkiller. It left no time for sadness. No time to remember Boston.
"Ella, room ten's got a foreign patient. I think she's speaking French. Go check it out," the head nurse said during rounds.
I froze. French? In Oahu, you didn't run into many French speakers—just the occasional European tourist.
"On it." I set down the tray and smoothed my uniform.
When I walked into room ten, I saw a middle-aged woman in an expensive silk blouse sitting on the bed.
"Bonjour," I said in French. "I'm Ella, the nurse here. How can I help you?"
The woman looked up, surprised. She clearly hadn't expected to find a French speaker in some backwater community hospital.
"Oh, dear, thank God. These locals don't understand a word I'm saying. I think I've sprained my ankle, and my skin's having some kind of allergic reaction."
"Let me take a look." I knelt down to examine her. The whole time, she complained nonstop—about the brutal sun, the shabby hospital.
During lunch, Mark found me again.
"That French lady was raving about you, Ella." Mark handed me a bottle of water. "Said your French is better than the translator she hired in Paris. Everyone's wondering—what did you do before this?"
I looked away and unscrewed the cap. "The past doesn't matter, Mark. I'm just a nurse now."
Mark went quiet. He pulled out the chair across from me and sat, his gaze soft. "You're always wound so tight. Ella, have you ever thought about letting yourself relax a little? You don't have to carry everything alone. Tommy needs a more complete family, too."
I set down the bottle and met his eyes. He meant it. I could tell.
"A complete family doesn't have to mean three people." My voice was gentle. "What I'm giving Tommy now is the best I can give. Mark, you're a good man. You should find someone who can love you with her whole heart. Not a single mom with her guard up."
Mark's face fell. He smiled sadly. "You always make rejection sound so final."
"Because hesitation is unfair to both of us." I stood up and pulled my mask back on. "I need to get back to work."