Chapter 14. Ethan
I never thought working twenty-four hours straight would turn out to be one of the best experiences of my life.
The moment I arrive at the hospital, I put on my serious face.
My armor. There's no way I'm letting anyone notice I'm nervous, inexperienced, that this is practically my first real job.
I'm not going to let my vulnerabilities show.
I'm a professional. I'm almost a nurse. And I'm there to help people who can't help themselves, which has always been my dream because that’s exactly the kind of person I always needed and never had.
To my surprise, the moment I walk in, a tall Black woman with a wide smile appears and says, "You must be Ethan Farley." She shakes my hand. "Welcome. I'll show you everything."
Her name is Dr. Nouha Ibrahim. She walks me through the whole hospital — reception, the ward, the patient rooms, then the staff break room and the cafeteria.
She doesn't ask if I'm from the Academy or where I come from.
Doesn't ask if I have experience. I don't try to find out how much she knows about Aspire.
She simply hands me scrubs, a sheet with my duties, and says, "You're going to shadow me today and I'll walk you through the procedures. Sound good?"
"Yes, ma'am," I say.
She laughs. "Ma'am? Please. I know I'm forty-five, but don't make me feel older than I already do. Call me Nouha. Or if you want something to call me: Doctor. I didn't study for a million years to not use the title."
"Yes, Doctor," I say.
She laughs again, and I can't believe my luck having someone like her as a supervisor. I'd heard hospitals could be brutal, specifically because of senior doctors who treat rookies like something to be crushed. But lately it seems like luck has been on my side.
We spend the whole day together. She teaches me the vitals protocols, how to fill in charts without making errors, the line between what I can do independently and what requires her sign-off.
I take notes on everything. Dr. Okafor gave me a small notebook before I left, and I fill page after page in tiny handwriting because I don't want to waste space.
Nouha notices and says, "You're very methodical. "
"It's how I work," I say.
"Good," she says. "Careless nurses kill people."
Simple as that. I like her even more.
The hospital is chaotic in a way Aspire never is.
Aspire runs on a schedule: lunch at noon, MMA at five, lights out at ten.
Here things just happen. A child comes in at three in the afternoon with a sky-high fever and parents who are barely holding it together, and we help him.
A man in his eighties walks in alone, chest pain, can't remember his children's names, but we're there to calm him down and support him.
A young woman, younger than me, keeps her eyes on me while I check her blood pressure, like I'm the only person in the world who has shown up for her that day, and then thanks me a million times.
After she leaves, I go into the hallway and stand there for a minute. Just breathing.
When the night shift ends, my brain is fried and my feet ache worse than after any MMA session. I go to the break room, drop into one of the terrible plastic chairs, and stare at the ceiling for about five minutes without thinking about anything at all.
Then I think about Liam.
He'll be asleep now. Probably in my bed, because he never sleeps in his own when I’m not there. I know that, even though he pretends otherwise. I picture him curled under the covers with his hair spread across the pillow, making that deeply satisfied cat face he gets when he's completely out.
I want to call him. Can't, obviously. No phones. But I want to.
Nouha passes by the break room door, sees my face, and says, "Go home, Farley. You did well today."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"Of course." She pauses a second before leaving. "And Ethan… you have a real gift for this. I mean it. I don't say this to everyone, I promise."
I don't say anything. But on the ride back, those words stay with me. You have a real gift for this.
I do. I've always known I do. It's just different knowing something in your head versus feeling it land in your body.
I also think about how I'm homesick for a place that is a correctional facility, which says something about me that I'm not entirely sure how to interpret.
The transport arrives. I go back.
I manage to catch a few minutes of sleep on the bus, but it's already close to lunchtime by the time I arrive.
At Aspire, things work the way they work.
What needs to be done gets done, regardless of how wrecked you are.
So I go to my room, sleep for a couple of hours, get up, and realize I'm running a few minutes late.
Everyone is probably in the cafeteria by now.
I don't care. I'm ridiculously happy to be back.
I'd missed him all night, that deep, physical ache of missing someone, and all I want is to be near him.
But the second I step into the dining hall, I immediately sense something is off. I look straight at our usual table. Liam isn't there. Just Miles, sitting by himself. No sign of Jack anywhere, either.
I scan the room. My heart sinks. Liam is at Reed's table.
And he's laughing at something Reed has said, leaning in slightly, way too close.
My jaw clenches before I've even consciously decided to be angry.
A horrible thought flashes through my mind before I can stop it: he's already replacing you.
I know Liam would never do that to me. I know it.
But the anger has already settled in my chest, and all logic is just gone.
All I can see is Liam sitting too close to Reed, laughing, looking entirely at ease.
I think about not going over there. Letting him notice me on his own. But I know I can't spend the whole lunch sitting somewhere else, watching that. And knowing Liam, he might not even realize I'm back.
I walk straight over to Reed's table. For a split second, my heart does this stupid, awful thing, because Liam looks at me and breaks into the biggest smile in the world when he sees me.
Then Reed smiles too, that wicked, predatory smirk I hate with every cell in my body, and says, "Daddy's home. Welcome back, baby."
Someone at the table snickers.
I stop next to Liam and say, keeping my voice steady, "Can I talk to you outside?"
His eyes go wide, catching exactly what I'm not saying out loud. But Liam never backs down easily, and when he registers the look on my face, his jaw sets and he stands up, ready to face me down.
"Ooh, Liam's in trouble with Daddy," Reed teases.
I would genuinely love to punch him in the face. I've done it before, and the urge is definitely back.
"What?!" Liam demands, facing me.
"Outside," I repeat.
We walk out into the hallway. It's empty, as everyone is at lunch. The second the door clicks shut, Liam turns on me.
"What is your problem?" he snaps, his voice already trembling, his eyes shining.
I don't want to deal with him like this. But this boy makes me completely lose my mind. "My problem is that you're mine," I say. "I don't want you laughing it up with him while I'm away."
"He's not a bad guy," Liam argues, holding my gaze even as the tears well up. I know him. He cries over absolutely everything, but he never, ever gives up on a fight. That's our problem. We're both way too hot-headed. "He stuck by me while you were gone. You know I hate being alone."
"And now you're defending him to my face."
"You're the one who left!" he shoots back, and the words hit me dead center. "You left me here alone. He helped me. He stayed close while you were gone. And you know that if I could, I would never leave your side, but you’re the one who was too busy, and now you come back picking a fight?"
"I saw how close you two were sitting."
"Do you want me to just sit in a corner by myself while you're out there living your life?" His voice cracks. "I thought you'd be proud that I didn't fall apart. I thought I was doing well."
A tear slips down his cheek, and I feel like the worst human being on the planet. I pull him in. He shoves at my chest, trying to break free, but I hold on until the fight drains out of him and he goes still. Even when he's angry, his body remembers exactly how to fit into mine.
"I'm sorry," I murmur into his hair.
"You're an idiot," he mumbles, muffled against my chest. The hands that had been pushing me away are now just resting against my ribs, his fists unclenching.
"I'm jealous. I get ridiculously jealous over you, especially with Reed."
"He's not as bad as you think," he mutters.
A fresh wave of irritation washes over me. I let it go.
"I'm glad he was there for you. And I'm sorry I left you alone. It’s going to be like this from now on. That’s just our reality now, but I promise you, I will always come back."
He stays quiet. Then, very softly: "Until you don't."
I pull back to look at him. "What do you mean?"
"Let's face facts." His voice is steady now, the way it gets when he's saying something he's been carrying around for a long time.
"You're almost done with the program. When you finish clinicals, they'll offer you a job.
You'll be let out. And I’ll stay here." He wipes his face with the back of his hand.
"I need to start accepting that we aren't going to work out. "
"That's not true…!"
"I know you don't want it to be true. I know you'd wait for me." He looks up at me, crying openly now, not even trying to hide it. "But I'm not going to hold you back. You're going to leave and live your life, and I won't let you put everything on hold waiting for me."
"Don't tell me what to do with my life," I say, sharper than I intend.
"If I say I'm going to wait for you, I'll wait for you.
I'll do everything I can to support you even from a distance, and you don't get to decide that for me.
" I pause and hate myself for what comes next even as the words leave my mouth: "Unless the point is that you just want to get rid of me now so you can hook up with someone like Reed. "
He shoves me hard. I pin him against my chest. He fights me for real for a second, really tries to break free, and then gives up, because I'm stronger, and he hates that I'm stronger. He lets out a furious huff of breath and stops.
"You absolute idiot," he says. "All I want is you."
"I know," I say. "Me too."
He relaxes a little more in my arms, dropping his forehead against my chest. "Then why are we fighting?"
"I don't know," I say.
Silence. And then he lets out that small, wet laugh, and the tight knot in my chest finally gives way.
"We're two idiots, aren't we," he says.
"Two absolute idiots," I agree.
He has completely melted against me by now, all the tension gone. I kiss the top of his head. He smells like shampoo.
"I love you, you idiot," he says.
"I love you too, baby," I say.
We stay like that for a while, just standing in the hallway, holding each other.
I'm still a long way from getting out. Starting clinicals doesn't mean anything yet.
But I realize this is going to be a real problem down the line, because maybe he's serious.
Maybe when I leave, he'll want to break up, thinking he's setting me free, that it's the right thing to do. All that idiotic nonsense.
"I just want you to know," I say, not letting him go. "No matter where we are. I don't want to be without you."
He nods against my chest, quiet, resolute for now. I hope it lasts at least a little while.