Page 69 of Heart Strings
And I’ve been working rotations in the A&E, making up for the lost time.
We lost a patient today and I could do nothing. A team rushed in with a crash cart as a nurse did compressions. A flurry of chaos, and then somber silence. Oisín wasn’t on rotation, so I ugly cried in the supply room for ten minutes before I managed to pull myself together, dabbing Visine on my reddened eyes and powder on my nose to regain some semblance of composure for the next patient. It just hit too hard, especially after the lab results. The last thing I needed was the reminder that even a room full of medical professionals can’t change fate when it’s truly your time.
As soon as I’m home from my shift, I give Aidan a call.
“Lo?” His voice saying my name is like homemade caldo de pollo to my soul. Comforting and familiar. “Lo, are you there?”
My throat spasms, but I manage to croak out, “Are you busy right now?”
“What’s going on?”
“I just…I had a horrible day. Is this a bad time?”
“No, I’m at my parents’ gaff. Want to come over? My mam is fixing stew.”
“Another time. I just need you right now.”
“I can be at yours in ten minutes.”
True to his word, Aidan pulls into the driveway a few minutes later. Ginger-flecked stubble chafes my cheek when he greets me with a tender kiss. His presence already feels like a weight’s been lifted from my chest. I don’t have to feel this alone. He takes me to the Long Walk, where the famous row of simple, colorful houses reflect in the shimmering water of the bay. He doesn’t prod, patiently waiting for me to speak when I’m ready.
“I lost a patient today. I keep replaying it in my head over and over.”
Aidan stops and wraps me in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
I bury my nose in his neck and breathe deep. “Logically, I know there is nothing more that could’ve been done for the guy. I just—I thought I was ready for it. That I could stay emotionally detached. I had no problem with the cadaver lab. It doesn’t bother me going into the funeral home.”
“Of course this is different. You can’t beat yourself up for being affected. You’re only human.” He strokes my hair as he speaks.
“How am I supposed to deal with losing a patient in pediatrics? This was an adult and I can barely cope.”
“I can only imagine how hard it is for the people who workwith children. They’re angels, really, but it’s not a job for everyone,” Aidan says.
“What if I’m not cut out to be a doctor? I can’t wash out after all this hard work—”
“Hey.” Aidan grasps my shoulders and looks into my face—my soul. How can eyes the color of the bay feel so grounding? “You’re capable of doing something meaningful. Even if it’s not on the front lines.”
“But I want to be there,” I protest.
“I know you do. Plus, it would be a shame to deprive the world of how hot you look in a white coat and rubber clogs.”
I crack a weak smile at his ill-timed attempt to hit on me. “There she is,” he says, gently brushing my cheek. “You’ll change lives. Save lives. I’ve never doubted you for an instant.”
We’re so close that I can feel the heat of his chest through our sweaters. I don’t even know who made the approach. It doesn’t matter. Aidan’s gravity pulls me toward him every time we’re together, and tonight I’m powerless against it…but somehow, he manages to make me feel like it’s okay to let my guard down, just for a little while.
“I’m not joking,” he insists. “I’ll take those clogs over stilettos any day. They’re deadly.”
This time, I breathe out a self-deprecating laugh. “Stop teasing me.”
“Not a chance. I’m still making up for lost time.”
His mouth is right there, sweet and distracting. I contemplate kissing him but step back and look out at the view instead. Headlights glow in the distance, and the autumn sky is painted in rich indigo. When I turn back to Aidan, his eyes are shadowed but I can feel their tenderness.
I’m afraid to trust my own voice. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for sharing this with me.” The secret I’ve been carrying all week threatens to claw its way up my throat. Our hands find each other, and his warm palm squeezes mine. “Tell me something good.”
“Well. I got lucky with two spots at Harvest in the Park next week. Nigel Culpepper is supposed to be there. He—”
