Two Years Ago
THE LAST THING I REMEMBER is me brushing my teeth, my world suddenly starting to spin, and then...nothing.
I can only rely on what others say. That I had an aneurysm, and I could’ve and should’ve died if not for Dr. Collington being in the ER and performing a surgery that saved my life.
And now here I am waking up in a hospital bed, dressed in a hospital gown, a bandage wrapped around my head, and a heart monitor beeping beside me like it’s personally keeping score of how alive I am.
I haven’t yet seen myself in the mirror, but I’m okay with that. I don’t think I’ll like what I see right now, and—
It’s him, it’s him.
Dr. Collington.
He’s so hot.
The women outside my room sound more like fangirls than nurses or interns, and I am honestly amazed.
And curious. I think I’ve heard that name before, but I’m not sure.
Maybe he’s one of my doctors? The nurse told me earlier that I’ve loads of them because how serious my case was at first. She might’ve mentioned his name, but everything’s still fuzzy, so I’m not really sure.
Look at him smile at everyone!
He’s like a prince!
A knight!
Is it normal for doctors to receive so many gushing compliments? And is he really that good-looking and—
The door opens.
And the whole world just...stops, and I remember myself thinking that moment—
Ah.
I finally get it.
I get it.
Because the man walking towards me...
Tall, dark-haired, surgical mask covering half of his face, and lab coat.
He’s similar to any other doctor in that sense.
But at the same time, he’s not like anyone else.
He walks with so much grace that every step he takes can turn even a muddy pathway into a catwalk for Paris Fashion Week.
And the way he’s holding his clipboard? Every slight move from him is like perfect.
You can just snap a photo of him, send it to a fashion magazine editor, and that’s it. Front cover material, easy.
When he’s finally standing at the foot of my bed, he’s even more beautiful up close.
Silky dark curls that fall just above his forehead.
Strong, chiseled features that are at the same time elegant.
Princely even. Everything about him is princely even when what he has is a stethoscope and not a crown, and when our eyes finally meet—
Those eyes.
I remember them.
“Good morning.”
His voice is the gentlest I’ve ever heard, but it’s still his eyes that has me in a daze because I remember.
It’s my soul that remembers seeing those eyes first.
Those eyes which are the rich, warm shade of dark chocolate—
They’re the kind that could make me write an instapoem at two in the morning with way too many hashtags and absolutely no shame, and those eyes alone are making me—
“How are you feeling?”
Is he asking me as a doctor? Or because he thinks I’m pretty? Or maybe he’s asking because his soul knows what I know, and that’s how we’re—
“Ms. McKenna?”
Oh, right, he was asking me about, um...
Right, right.
He wanted to know how I’m feeling, and I’m, um, feeling...
Good.
That was what I wanted to say. But because Dr. Collington’s fairytale good looks have completely caught me off guard, I end up croaking out something like “grwd”?
“No headaches or dizziness?”
But thankfully, he seems to have understood me all the same, with Dr. Collington only nodding as he makes a note on his chart.
“I’m glad to hear that.” He pulls a chair beside my bed and sits, and my heart starts to pound.
“I’ll need to do my rounds after this—”
A sound interrupts him, and I can feel my face turning red when I realize that it’s the heart monitor letting him know my heart rate has gone crazy.
Dr. Collington frowns. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I...um...” How do I get out of this? “I just...find myself thinking of something?”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The heart monitor is making so much noise right now I feel like nurses are about to charge inside my room any second—
“Is it...is it okay if I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
And before I know it, the words simply come flying out—
“Are you, um, dating anyone?”
AAAAAAAAH.
I think I need another aneu—no, wait, God, that’s a joke, I’m sorry, I’m so glad to be alive again, thank You, it’s just—
“No.”
The nurses burst into my room.
“I’m not dating anyone.”
And that’s how Stanhope Vancouver’s first ever legend is born.