Page 58 of From Rivals to I Do

I spend most of the time fluttering around, taking care of as many patient’s problems as possible just so I can avoid Elijah, the boys, and his room. All the while, my brain was whirring and wondering what exactly happened with them and if they were okay.

By the time I finally got the nerve to go to Elijah’s room, it was near the end of my shift, and no one but Elijah was in the dark room, most likely asleep. So instead, I clocked out, hopped in my car, grabbed dinner on the way home, and took it to my room.

As soon as I walk through the door, I’m hit by the fragrance of lilies. And when I saw that huge vase that he’d had delivered to the hospital, I began crying all over again.

I feel so angry and sad all at once as I curl up in bed and eat my food. How could I have been so close to happiness only to have it ripped away from me all over again? The world. . . this life. . . it’s too cruel.

Chapter thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

“Thank you for coming in on such short notice,” Doreen says as I walk into the ICU. She called me in to work the night shift since I have the day off tomorrow and LuAnne called in sick. Honestly, I need the money, so I didn’t make a fuss.

“It’s really no problem,” I say. “I like to help out, it helps me feel useful.”

“Yes, well, after what you’ve been through, I have to say that you’re one of the strongest women I know,” Doreen says. “I sure as heck wouldn’t be here.”

“Thank you,” I reply, and clam right up. I know it’s meant as a compliment, but I can’t help but think that I’m not that strong at all. If anything, I just feel shattered inside, like I’ve been broken for so long that it’s become second nature—maybe even before losing Joseph. For me, if I don’t keep going, I might stop existing completely.

“Alright, well I got to get home now,” Doreen says. “Jacqueline will be in later to help with the shift. Until then, you are the head woman in charge.”

“What time does she come in?”

“Well, it’s about ten now, so probably around midnight,” Doreen says as she looks down at her phone, then slides it into her pocket. “Just a warning, she isn’t feeling so hot either, but she’s decided to push through it.”

That’s not too bad, I think to myself. It could be worse. I could be all by myself for the entire night, which I’ve seen happen to some of the other girls since I started here.

Not that I can blame Doreen’s leadership. She’s doing her best. But the hospital just isn’t willing or able to give us the people we need. Which can be a real pain, especially when it’s really busy.

“Here’s your charts,” Doreen says as she hands me a stack of clipboards. “See you later!”

I immediately begin looking through the charts to see if Elijah is still here. Sure enough, after a few moments of searching, there he is, and I’m listed as his nurse for the evening.

Just like I had before, I avoided Elijah’s room like the plague, not wanting to run into any of the boys. It makes me feel like a complete and utter coward that I can’t even face them, but the wound is so fresh I can’t even talk about it to Sparrow. I’m sure all they need is some blubbering woman they hardly know hanging around and making things worse.

“Hey, Darla,” Jacqueline calls out to me from the nurse’s station.

“Yes?”

“Have you checked on Elijah yet this hour? We need some vitals from him, and I did it last time since you were busy.”

“S-Sure, I can do that,” I reply, feigning cheerfulness. But immediately my palms start to sweat as I move toward his room, and I feel a little heady.

It’s just a checkup, I tell myself as I enter his room. It’s the middle of the night, he’s not going to be much for conversation anyway. Still, I can feel my anxiety roar to a fever pitch as I press the blood pressure button and get out the thermometer, standing over him in the dark.

“Evenin’,” the old man says quietly, his crackly, half-awake voice nearly making me jump out of my skin.

“O-oh! Sorry if I woke you,” I say, as I fumble with the thermometer in my fingers, holding it in front of his mouth. “I just need your vitals.”

“It’s alright,” he mumbles as he gingerly takes it, opens his mouth wide, and then shuts his lips over the probe. After a few moments, the thermometer beeps, and I feel a sense of relief washing over me. It’s almost over, I tell myself. Now, all I have to do is get out of here and write these down. Guess that wasn’t so bad after all.

“Wait,” the old man says, his voice clearing up a bit. It was still a tinge grainy, but oddly enough, not old sounding at all. At least, it wasn’t how someone his age would sound like in my head.

I stop in place, my hands shaking. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy, I think to myself as I turn back around, forcing a smile. “What can I help you with, Mr. Garcia?”

“Would you mind getting me a glass of water?” he asks, and I’m dumbstruck by how much he sounds like Eli. It’s my brain trying to deal with my grief, I tell myself, and I shake it off, grab his pitcher, and fill a paper cup to the brim.

“Thank you kindly,” he replies, and I’m hit once more with that weird sense of déjà vu. Obviously, he’s related to Eli since the boys have been around to see him—but maybe they just sound alike. “Would you mind helping me drink this?”

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