CADEN

Hot damn.

Her instruction to meet was unusual, but I worried she was being generous, warning me in private to knock it off since she knows how much I’ve put into this residency.

I had the tissues for a patient.

One who turned them down.

Pocketed them without motive.

No way I thought we’d be fucking up here. Not in a million years.

“Hot damn,” I whisper aloud with reverence for the memory of her moan. She loves it filthy. Got off on the location, too. I know it did it for me. But hey, I’m a guy. Construction and demolition is appealing. Tearing things apart and building something bigger equals fun.

As I stroll down the staircase, a door on the third floor opens. Dr. Pivens is checking his cell and glances up at the echoing sound of my footsteps, then goes back to typing. “Oh, Dr. Cocker. Just the man I was planning to see at some point today.”

We stop in the air-conditioned chill. “What’s up?”

“You came from the Seventh Floor?” My eyebrows fly up. “Look at your shoes.”

Glancing to them I see the blanket of dust. “Look at that,” I casually smirk. “I was curious how the renovations are coming along.”

“I’ve been meaning to go up there. How’s it look?”

I point to my shoes. “Clean enough to eat off the floors.”

He chuckles, and puts his phone away. “Cilla, my patient with bone cancer—”

“Yeah, I know her.”

“She was asking about you. Would you poke your head in and say hi? She’s been down.”

“Of course. I’ll go now.”

“Heading to the break room for food. Join me after?”

“Just took a break.”

With a friendly clap of my shoulder he smirks, “Nice lipstick stains,” and continues down the staircase. “Another time then.”

I swipe my lips, staring at the pink tinge left behind as I make a beeline to the men’s room to wash my face and smooth tufts of hair from when she grabbed me in a fit of passion. Pulling out paper towels, I clean these telltale shoes, too. I’ll run down and change my scrubs.

Dr. Pivens is an introverted, scholastic type, above gossip. He’s written research papers on cancer preventatives and treatment which were published and circulated internationally among leading-edge hospitals. A good man, happily married, Pivens chose us because he likes the weather here. We’re lucky to have him.

And I’m lucky it was him I ran into.

All cleaned up I practically whistle my way to Cilla’s room. But that stops when I see her.

“Hey Cill.”

“Dr. Cocker!” Pulling herself up to sitting, she smiles. “I didn’t expect to see you today. I fell asleep.”

From the looks of her, she’s mostly sleeping. Fearing the worst, I pull out her chart and scan the radiation and chemo progress. It takes a great deal of self-control to keep my face light as I read that she isn’t responding. I slip the folder back into place. But meeting her eyes I can tell she knows I’m forcing this smile.

“It’s not good,” she gently says.

“You’ve gotta stay positive.”

She confesses, “I’m not afraid to die, Dr. Cocker.”

I cross my arms, dipping my chin, our gazes held. “Then you’re a brave girl.”

“I think we have many lives. And they’re all lessons to bring us back to what we really are.”

“What do you think that is?”

“I think it’s all just…love.”

Frowning, I admit, “I’m confused by what you mean.”

“We’re not supposed to be so afraid all the time.” She reaches for a glass of water, struggling to hold the cup steady because she’s so weak. I move to help but she lifts a bony hand to stop me and sips from a straw for a few moments before placing it back on the table. “There was this guy I met when I was nineteen. Five years ago. I was really into him. Totally hung up on everything he did. My life revolved around that guy. He was such a dick.”

A chuckle escapes because I expected her to say the opposite.

Cilla meets my eyes, insisting, “He was awful. He would text me, and I would reply. Then he wouldn’t reply, sometimes not for a couple days. Just leave the conversation after he was the one who’d asked me something. It was like he was checking up on me, or just wanting to keep me hanging. But you know what? If I ever took more than a minute to return his text, he’d get mad, send me a slew of question marks. He used to show up an hour late for our dates, and because he was cute, he thought I wouldn’t care. I cared, but I didn’t say anything. He was broke all the time, totally happy for me to pay for things though.” She rolls her eyes, staring out the window. “He never wanted to go anywhere so he’d come over and we’d have sex and then he wouldn’t spend the night most times. There was this girl hanging around the coffee shop he worked at, and I had this feeling they were seeing each other, too. He denied it.”

After a moment of silence I fill in the blank. “Your instincts were right.”

Sadness shimmers in her eyes as she nods. “And I kept seeing him anyway. Because I was afraid of being alone. Or maybe being left behind for her. We were together four years.” Glancing back to the stars she whispers. “I only call him ‘this guy I dated’ now. I spent too much time thinking about him that he doesn’t deserve a name anymore. Why did I waste so much time on that jerk? I’ve been thinking about it since I have so much time lately and you know what it was? Fear. That’s all. If I’d have enjoyed living more I wouldn’t have stayed with someone who made me that unhappy.” Meeting my eyes, hers are earnest. “I think we’re supposed to be happy. I finally see it now.”

Releasing my arms I ask, “Can I give you a hug?”

A smile spreads. “Yes, please.”

Sitting, I gather her in my arms and feel hers drifting around my shoulders as she relaxes into the crook of my neck. It feels like hugging a feather, so light it could float away.

I reach for the pillow and fluff it while she watches. “Have to get back. I’ll check in on you later.”

“There’s something else I’m not afraid of,” she offers as I arrive at the door.

“What?”

“Telling you I have a crush on you.” The feather burrows under her covers with a smile.

I return it, and tap the door on the way out.

In the corridor outside, my shoulders straighten as a woman walks up, coffee in hand. There’s a dramatic enough family resemblance that I guess, “Are you Cilla’s mother?”

“Yes,” she answers, curious, “Have we met? I know all of her doctors.”

“Oncology isn’t my department, but I make the rounds sometimes to help out where I can. I’m Dr. Cocker.” My hand extends to shake hers and recognition lights her eyes.

“Oh, you’re the one who brought those chocolates! I hoped I would meet you. Cilla couldn’t say enough good things about you. I’m Kathy Lu.”

“Cilla’s a special girl, Ms. Lu.”

Her breath hitches with emotion. “Yes.”

“You have everything you need? I assume you’re staying with her tonight?”

“I’ll stay until she falls asleep, then I have to be at work in the morning.”

I take a step to leave. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You, too.”

As I head away I hear the door opening, and glance back as Kathy disappears.

Frowning to myself I make note of how similar in age she is to my mom. Of course this gets me thinking of Lexi and Sam, and I send a quick prayer out to keep them safe, just in case anyone up there is listening.