“I heard that patient’s name is Eric. Apparently, he’s pretty good-looking,” a nurse whispered.
“Miss Evans even dropped everything at the company just to stay with him,” another replied.
I felt like the biggest fool alive for believing every word she ever said.
The therapy was far more painful than I expected. I could feel the blood seeping out, soaking through the sheets—made it sticky.
I didn’t make a sound. I just clenched my teeth until the session was over. When it finally ended, I slowly released my grip on the edge of the bed. At that moment, my phone rang.
It was Charlotte.
I stared at her name flashing on the screen for a long time before answering.
“Are you done?” she asked. Her tone was emotionless, as if she were asking about something trivial.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “It’s over.”
She seemed relieved.
“Then rest for a few days before you go back to work.”
Before I could respond, she hung up.
I walked out of the hospital and stood by the road, waiting for a cab. The wind felt sharp and cold against my skin.
When I got home, the light in the entryway was still on. I’d forgotten to turn it off before leaving this morning.