Play with Me

God, I’m tired. Bone tired. I didn’t sleep much at all last night after Will left. I kept replaying the conversation in my head over and over again. Asking him to leave was for the best. I need to put some space between us. I meant what I said, he’ll eventually come to his senses and break it off, or I’ll get sick of his arrogance and break it off, and why waste time on something that will end, most likely sooner rather than later?

Lyle is indeed the only guard in the security booth right now. The others must be on foot patrol. I walk up to the plexi-glass window and offer him a smile.

“Hey, Lyle. You have something for me?”

“Yeah, I’ll bring them out to you.”

Them?

Flowers. I should have known. Lyle comes walking out of the glass office with both his arms loaded down with gorgeous red flowers. Roses, peonies, poppies, calla lilies. All beautifully red.

Damn him.

I pull the white card out of the bouquet and rip it open. There is only one word:

Everything.

I take the flowers and ride the elevator back up to my floor and set the flowers in my office. I read the card again and then tuck it into the pocket of my scrub top and pat it in place. I’ll carry him with me tonight.

I pull out my phone and text him, one word: Beautiful.

Before I can put my phone back in my pocket, there is a response. Not as beautiful as you. Forgive me.

“Meg, come quick, something’s wrong.” One of the techs, Brandi, pokes her head in my office, her face ashen.

“Nick?” I ask, my stomach clenching in fear. She nods yes, and we run to his room. The monitors are beeping frantically, and his parents are huddled together in the corner of the room, crying.

“His lungs are failing,” Dr. Lee, a young and handsome doctor is urgently checking monitors and listening to Nick’s chest. He looks over at his parents, his eyes worried. “We need to intubate him.”

“No,” Nick’s father chokes out. “No life support. We promised Nick we wouldn’t make him suffer.”

“He’s suffering now. He’s suffocating.” Dr. Lee loops his stethoscope around his neck and sighs deeply. “I understand.” He runs his hands down his face and looks down at Nick with sadness. He’s worked with the boy since he was first diagnosed with the bone cancer.

“Meg,” he murmurs to me. “Keep his morphine up, and his head elevated so he’s getting as much oxygen in his lungs as possible. We’re going to keep him sedated, and comfortable.” He walks over to Nick’s parents and hugs them both. “Sit with him. Talk to him. I don’t think you’ll have long with him now.”

I gaze down at this boy, this sweet boy, who had his whole life ahead of him. He was an athlete, he had a girlfriend, and the promise of going to college and living a long, happy life. He’ll never have the chance to experience so many things. Fall in love, dance at his wedding, hold his children.

He’s only seventeen fucking years old.

I arrange Nick to a comfortable position in his bed, check the drip on his IV and step back to let his family gather by him and say goodbye.

* * *

Six hours later, I’m wrung out. Nick passed away two hours ago. We all comforted his parents and did our job of comforting the other kids who were so sad and scared and mourning. I hate the days that we lose a patient. It just sucks all around, for every single person on the floor.

I should stay here tonight. Find an empty bed and catch a few hours’ sleep, then get up and put in another shift.  But I push my hand in my pocket and run my fingers over the note that came with Will’s flowers, and I know that I don’t want to stay.

I need him.

I need to be in his arms. I want to feel his warmth, and hear him tell me that everything will be okay.

Even if it won’t.

I don’t know if I’d be welcome. I haven’t replied to his last text. But if I’ve learned anything at all in the last twelve hours, it’s that life can be cut so incredibly short. I don’t want to waste a minute that I could spend with Will.

If he leaves me and breaks my heart later, I’ll deal with it then.

I drive to his house, let myself in through his gate, and because I still have the Rover, I park in the garage and let myself into the house. It’s dark and quiet, Will is no doubt in bed and went to sleep long ago.

I climb the stairs, two at a time. I can’t get to him fast enough. Sure enough, there he is, sleeping peacefully. His face is relaxed, hair a mess from his fingers. I slip out of my shoes, and don’t even take the time to strip out of my clothes.

I need him now.

I climb into the bed and wrap myself around him, startling him awake.

“Hey,” he mumbles and wraps his arms around me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper and nuzzle in deeper, burying my face into his neck, clinging to him.

“Babe, what’s wrong? You’re trembling.”

I am just so cold.

He tries to pull back, but I cling tighter. “Don’t go.” I hear the desperation in my voice.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me. You’re scaring me. Are you hurt?”

I shake my head. God, there’s just so much running through me. So much in my head. I’m so sad about Nick, and afraid of losing Will, yet afraid of loving him too. And I’m so fucking tired of being afraid of losing something, someone, important to me.

“Need you,” I murmur and suddenly feel the tears leaking out of my eyes.

“Megan,” he’s awake now, and worried.

“I’m not hurt,” I mutter and lean my forehead on his shoulder, still clinging to him, relishing the feel of his impossibly strong arms around me. “We lost Nick tonight. I miss you. I just want to be here with you, okay?”

“Oh, baby.”

I don’t even care that he calls me baby. It’s comforting and loving, and I need it. I need him.

“You are always welcome here, Meg. Always.”

I finally lean my head back and look into his soft blue eyes. He’s so kind. How did I ever think that he was trying to hurt me?

“I’m so sorry about Nick. He was a really good kid. He was completely smitten with you, but I can’t blame him.” He grins down at me and kisses my nose, and I relax again. He just soothes me.

“Will, you scare the fuck out of me.” His eyes widen briefly, and then he exhales and closes them. He chuckles softly as he leans in and rests his lips against my own.

“Megan, you exasperate me, and turn me on, and make me crazy.” He kisses me softly, brushing his lips across mine, and gently combs his fingers through my hair.