a weight has lifted and averts his eyes. “I forget you aren’t who you used to be. I should be apologizing to you.”
This takes me aback. He never talks of how I used to be, but if he had, I never would have expected this. “I do not understand. What was I like?”
His eyelids fall shut and he shakes his head. “Never mind.” He takes my hands and draws me close. There is an abrupt softening in his expression, and I wonder how he can swiftly change—or hide—his emotions like that. The sea in his eyes now shines as they look into mine. “I love you more and more with each passing day. I never believed that was possible.”
I am on the verge of tears because of this declaration, and my insides twist knowing how I have truly deceived him.
Put on your big-girl panties and get the fuck over it
, She says.
I ignore Her and draw close to Declan. “Come to my room with me?”
He smiles, biting his lower lip. “I can’t. Not with”—he waves a hand absently toward the ceiling—“the sudden business I need to attend to. Besides, it isn’t private. I completely lost my head last night when I let it go that far.”
I pout and he kisses me, then murmurs against my lips. “Soon, my love. Just keep getting better and we’ll go home where we’ll have all the privacy we need.”
• • •
My cylinder now faces the opposite direction. I know I am closer to the new monitors because the heartbeats are louder and Sonya now faces the wall to my right to read the screens. I still do not know who Patient 2 is, and this bothers me.
Instead of computers, I now face a row of hospital beds dressed in white sheets with inclined backs. White cabinets cover the walls. Curtains hang between beds for privacy, but as of now, there are no patients.
Noah scans the room when he enters. Maybe this is his first time visiting since the rearrangement. “Looks good in here.”
Sonya, who sits in a wheeled stool with a heavy book in her lap, looks up and slaps the tome closed. “You should throw a few more tantrums.”
His face does not shift in emotion one way or the other. “It’s what she wanted. Tantrum or no, you know you would have gotten all of this anyway.”
Silence is her response, and she presses the book to her chest as makeshift armor. The title,
Infertility in the New Era,
is all I can read, as her arms cover the author’s name.
Noah shifts his weight on his feet. He brings his hands up to his waist, and one is coated in dried blood. Sonya must see it, too, because she curses under her breath.
“You went with them, didn’t you?” she says in a reprimanding tone.
She walks to a cabinet across the room with a purposeful stride, shaking her head in a disapproving manner that makes even me want to look away in shame. She drops the book on the shelf under the cabinet.
“I haven’t cleared you for duty,” she tells him and yanks open a cabinet door.
“I don’t need your approval,” he says without pause.
He meets her eyes and they stare each other down in a battle of wills that she eventually wins, because he looks away first.
I think I like her.
She nods her head toward a bed, and he hesitates but eventually strolls over. He sits and passes over his hand. As she wipes it down with an antiseptic, she glances up at his face every now and then, waiting for him to shift his attention back to her. Or maybe she waits for him to look my way. I know I am waiting. He has not looked at me once since arriving. He fixes his gaze on the floor.
“They’re fine,” she says quietly, “in case you’re curious.”
Not a single flinch of muscle breaks his stony expression. “I assumed as much. I hadn’t heard otherwise, so I figured she’s still kicking.”
Her hand freezes over his for a moment before finishing. She throws the swab in a trash can and unwraps a bandage.
“What’s her name?” she asks casually. “Referring to her by a patient number is getting ridiculous.”
Noah’s jaw sets
This takes me aback. He never talks of how I used to be, but if he had, I never would have expected this. “I do not understand. What was I like?”
His eyelids fall shut and he shakes his head. “Never mind.” He takes my hands and draws me close. There is an abrupt softening in his expression, and I wonder how he can swiftly change—or hide—his emotions like that. The sea in his eyes now shines as they look into mine. “I love you more and more with each passing day. I never believed that was possible.”
I am on the verge of tears because of this declaration, and my insides twist knowing how I have truly deceived him.
Put on your big-girl panties and get the fuck over it
, She says.
I ignore Her and draw close to Declan. “Come to my room with me?”
He smiles, biting his lower lip. “I can’t. Not with”—he waves a hand absently toward the ceiling—“the sudden business I need to attend to. Besides, it isn’t private. I completely lost my head last night when I let it go that far.”
I pout and he kisses me, then murmurs against my lips. “Soon, my love. Just keep getting better and we’ll go home where we’ll have all the privacy we need.”
• • •
My cylinder now faces the opposite direction. I know I am closer to the new monitors because the heartbeats are louder and Sonya now faces the wall to my right to read the screens. I still do not know who Patient 2 is, and this bothers me.
Instead of computers, I now face a row of hospital beds dressed in white sheets with inclined backs. White cabinets cover the walls. Curtains hang between beds for privacy, but as of now, there are no patients.
Noah scans the room when he enters. Maybe this is his first time visiting since the rearrangement. “Looks good in here.”
Sonya, who sits in a wheeled stool with a heavy book in her lap, looks up and slaps the tome closed. “You should throw a few more tantrums.”
His face does not shift in emotion one way or the other. “It’s what she wanted. Tantrum or no, you know you would have gotten all of this anyway.”
Silence is her response, and she presses the book to her chest as makeshift armor. The title,
Infertility in the New Era,
is all I can read, as her arms cover the author’s name.
Noah shifts his weight on his feet. He brings his hands up to his waist, and one is coated in dried blood. Sonya must see it, too, because she curses under her breath.
“You went with them, didn’t you?” she says in a reprimanding tone.
She walks to a cabinet across the room with a purposeful stride, shaking her head in a disapproving manner that makes even me want to look away in shame. She drops the book on the shelf under the cabinet.
“I haven’t cleared you for duty,” she tells him and yanks open a cabinet door.
“I don’t need your approval,” he says without pause.
He meets her eyes and they stare each other down in a battle of wills that she eventually wins, because he looks away first.
I think I like her.
She nods her head toward a bed, and he hesitates but eventually strolls over. He sits and passes over his hand. As she wipes it down with an antiseptic, she glances up at his face every now and then, waiting for him to shift his attention back to her. Or maybe she waits for him to look my way. I know I am waiting. He has not looked at me once since arriving. He fixes his gaze on the floor.
“They’re fine,” she says quietly, “in case you’re curious.”
Not a single flinch of muscle breaks his stony expression. “I assumed as much. I hadn’t heard otherwise, so I figured she’s still kicking.”
Her hand freezes over his for a moment before finishing. She throws the swab in a trash can and unwraps a bandage.
“What’s her name?” she asks casually. “Referring to her by a patient number is getting ridiculous.”
Noah’s jaw sets
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