Page 27 of Doctor Hot Mess

I nod, the weight of it all settling heavily in my chest. “I should see her.”

Harper studies me for a moment, her eyes searching mine. “Okay, but Jonah—you need to stay calm. She’s still fragile, physically and emotionally. If you push her too hard, it could backfire.”

“Calm is what I do best,” I say, though the tightness in my voice betrays the storm brewing inside me. “Just take me to her, please.”

Without another word, I’m on my feet, grabbing my white coat. My mind is a blur of panic and guilt. Lila. My little sister. Hurt and lying in a hospital bed, all alone.

TEN

Harper

2:53 PM

I hovernear the window outside Lila’s room, wanting to let them have their moment. A part of me feels a little intrusive still standing here and watching, but Lila asked me to stay. I told her I would give them a few minutes and would come back after they had a chance to speak.

Jonah is sitting at her bedside, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His face is softened in a way I’ve rarely seen. His usual cocky grin is gone, replaced by something raw and unguarded.

Lila’s awake and fully aware. She looks the best she's looked since arriving on Saturday.

Her bruised face is much more animated as she talks to him, though I can’t hear what they’re saying. It's obvious they both have a lot of affection for each other. Her hand is in his, and he’s nodding along, listening intently.

The sight tugs at something in me—a reminder that beneath Jonah’s charming, aloof surface lies someone capable of immense care, at least when it comes to the people he loves.

This is a side of Jonah I haven’t let myself think about in years. The Jonah who stayed with a grieving family after a patient didn’t make it. The Jonah who bought every nurse in the ER coffee after a hellish night shift. The Jonah I used to call my friend.

I shake off the thought and step back, pressing my hand to the strap of my bag. This isn’t my place. They’re family, and I?—

Lila glances toward the window and spots me. She lifts her hand, motioning for me to come in.

I hesitate, but there’s no graceful way to ignore her. Taking a steadying breath, I push the door open and step inside.

“There she is,” Lila says, her voice raspy but warm. “The superstar nurse who saved my life and offered me kindness above and beyond.”

“Hardly,” I say quickly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “I just did my job.”

“Don’t let her downplay it,” Lila says, glancing at Jonah. “She was with me every step of the way—checking on me, making sure I wasn’t alone. I don’t even remember everything, but I know... I know I wouldn’t have made it through those first few hours without her.”

Jonah’s eyes meet mine, and for a second, I see something in them I don’t expect. Not the usual charm or the easy, practiced calm he wears like armor, but something quieter. Sincere. He nods slightly, like he’s acknowledging something he can’t quite say out loud. It catches me off guard, and I don’t know what to do with it.

Jonah’s gaze shifts to me, and for a moment, the usual guarded charm isn’t there. Instead, there’s something more genuine—something unspoken but unmistakable. “Thank you,” he says simply, but the weight behind those two words carries significance beyond the perfunctory gesture.

I nod, unsure how to respond. It’s not the kind of gratitude that demands acknowledgment; it’s the kind that lingers, settling in the quiet spaces between us.

I shrug, suddenly uncomfortable under their combined attention. “She was my patient. I wasn’t about to let her down.”

Lila’s lips quirk into a faint smile. “You didn’t. Not even for a second. And look, she even showed up on her day off to check on me.”

The silence that follows is heavier than I’d like, so I clear my throat and shift my bag higher on my shoulder. “Well, now that your brother’s here, you’re in good hands. I’ll let you two catch up. I'm so glad you're doing better. And, for the record, I like Lila much better than Jane. It suits you.”

Before I can turn to leave, Lila shifts her gaze to me, her eyes soft but full of something I can’t quite place. “Please know how grateful I am,” she says, her voice steady but quiet. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

The words land with unexpected weight, and I hesitate, letting the moment stretch. It’s strange, realizing now that she’s not just a patient to me. She’s connected to someone I know well, someone I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure out.

When I was caring for her, something about her vulnerability struck a chord—memories of my aunt, her quiet resilience, and the isolation she endured when she had no one to stand by her. I didn’t want Lila to feel that same loneliness. And now, knowing she’s Jonah’s sister, it feels even more poignant.

As much as Jonah and I have our differences, this strange twist of fate makes me pause. What are the odds?

I glance at him, who’s leaning back in his chair now, with his carefully guarded expression back in place. His grip on Lila’s hand tightens slightly, a subtle gesture that reminds me of how much he can care, even if he struggles to show it sometimes.

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