Page 4 of Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

Am I doing enough?

The weight of responsibility presses down on me, threatening to crush me under its unbearable burden. But as the seconds tick by, her condition remains unchanged. My heart sinks as I realize that, despite my best efforts, I may not save her.

“No,” I whisper as I hold her. “Come on, Chloe!”

Please! Prove to me I have some worth.

Another nurse arrives with a crash cart, and I attach an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, the soft hiss of the gas a reassuring sound.

Any worth at all…

As soon as I spot Dr. Evans, frustration takes over, and I snarl rather than talk. “Severe seizure, possible internal bleeding, left abdomen. She’s been unresponsive for about two minutes.”

The doctor nods, assessing the situation. “Let’s go! Prep for an ultrasound to check the internal damage.”

Why didn’t I examine her thoroughly before making small talk?

But even in the face of despair, I refuse to give up. Deep down, I know that helping others is the only thing that gives my life meaning. And no matter how many times I fail or how many lives slip through my fingers, I’ll never stop trying. Because, in the end, it’s the only thing that keeps me going.

The chaotic crew disappears in a blur, and I’m left with failure, choking my soul out of any value I have. Until a tall male nurse puts his hand on my forearm, and I snap back to reality.

“You did great,” he says, his voice cutting through the chaos of the emergency room. “We’ll take her to the ICU, but she’ll likely be okay, thanks to your quick response.” His soft brown eyes calm my mind.

I nod, a wave of relief washing over me. Despite the lingering ache in my muscles, there’s a glimmer of hope in his words that eases some tension.

“Thank you,” I choke out.

The man offers me a reassuring smile before walking off.

I pause a moment to collect myself. My hands still shake with adrenaline, but peace settles over me. Knowing that my actions made a difference and helped save a life is a feeling like no other. This is one of the main reasons I became a nurse—the ability to turn a negative situation into something positive. A tiny glimpse of control I’ve longed for since the breakup.

But as the adrenaline wears off, my limbs get heavier; my mind fogs with fatigue. All I can think about is escaping, fleeing from the madness of the emergency room, and finding solace in quiet solitude.

“God, I need that vacation,” I murmur, a tired pout playing at the corners of my lips.

It’s been a long day, a long week, a long year.

After a rough breakup with my boyfriend four months ago, I’m determined to reconstruct my broken heart. Even if said heart is hidden beneath layers of curves, outlined by ice cream and true crime podcasts, I’ll mend it.

The smell of sanitizer and sweat lingers as I check another teen’s injuries and mental state, my focus strong despite the growing fatigue in my body.

“Hi, I’m Marianne, the nurse appointed to you. What’s your name?”

“Wilson. Darla Wilson. Is Chloe going to be okay?” she asks, eyes hooked on where her friend disappeared.

I hope so.“I’m not at liberty to say, I’m sorry.” I run my thumb over her hand and give her my most sympathetic look, leading her to nod sadly.

Maybe I need rest and an adventure. Anything outside those walls.

While treating the fourth teen’s wounds, a shadow looms overhead. It’s Carole. “Marianne,” she snaps, her pinched face looking down at me. “What are you still doing here?”

“I’m working. You told me—”

“Your shift is over.” She frowns at me. “I found someone else to do the extra hours since you’re so eager for your vacation.”

I swallow mypride.Do I have any?

“I’ll go home when I’m done putting the IV line on Miss Wilson here.” My eyes dart between the teenager and her. Does she think I’ll take off in the middle of a procedure?

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