Hospitals had a way of making you feel smaller than you already were. Like your body shrank to fit the weight of the worry pressing on your chest.
I sat curled on the bench in the corridor, head leaning against the cold wall, trying not to let the tears win. Every time I blinked, I saw the image of Emily looking pale and unconscious, with the doctors doing everything to save her. It wouldn't have gotten to this level if we had done the surgery earlier. But fate was a bitch and poverty was even bitchier.
I'd never felt more helpless.
The sound of hurried footsteps reached me before the person did.
"I'm here."
My head snapped up. I looked up to see Z standing there, chest heaving, suit jacket slightly askew, eyes darting across the corridor until they landed on me. His expression was unreadable.
Standing up quickly and wiping the tears from my face, I said, "I'll do it." My voice cracked mid-sentence. "Whatever you want. I'll marry you. I'll do anything. I'll sign the contract. Just… help me."
His jaw tensed. For a second, I thought he might walk away. But he moved forward and searched my eyes. "What do you need?"
I hated that question. Hated that I had an answer.
"My friend. She's in surgery," I whispered. "They said they'll finish it, but I need to pay. Or they'll…" I trailed off, shaking my head. "I don't know what happens after that."
"I'll take care of it."
Everything moved fast after that. He pulled out his card and told the receptionist he was covering the cost. The nurse blinked, looking at him, stunned. "Doctor Zayne? You—why would you be paying for her surgery?"
"Since when were nurses supposed to be this nosy?" he cut her off harshly. "I said I'm covering the cost."
The nurse shook for a second, clearly taken aback by his words—or rather, his tone. Regaining her composure, she said, "My apologies. I'm sorry, Doctor." She reached for a bunch of papers and handed them out. "We'll need paperwork for billing. Can you fill this out?"
Zayne. I repeated the name in my head. After all these years of having only a single letter to go by, I finally knew his name. The name of the man who turned my life upside down in just a night.
Zayne nodded and grabbed the clipboard. His pen hovered above the section that said Relation to patient's guardian, and his eyes flicked toward me briefly.
He hesitated. Then, with a steady breath, he ticked the box written Husband.
"Full name?" the nurse asked, trying to mask her obvious curiosity.
"Zayne Aster," he said without pause.
She scribbled it down and turned to me. "And you are?"
"Lia David," I said, voice quiet. "Guardian to the patient."
"Patient's name?"
"Emily Coleman."
She nodded and went off with the forms, leaving the two of us in the silence that always settled like dust in hospitals.
He turned away, heading back toward me, but before he could speak, a man in light blue scrubs rounded the corner.
"Dr. Aster?" the man said, stopping in surprise. "Wow, I haven't seen you around in a while."
Zayne blinked. "Dr. Hill," he said, nodding slowly.
"What brings you back?" Dr. Hill asked.
Zayne's gaze slid to me. "Family matters," he answered.
Dr. Hill followed his gaze to me. I looked disheveled, red-eyed, and was standing there like the weight of the world was pressing down on my shoulders. He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
"Well," he said finally, "good to see you again. Take care, Aster."
Zayne nodded. "You too."
When the man walked off, I looked up at Zayne. "You work here?"
"No. I come here often in case I'm needed. I haven't in a while, though," he said.
"Are you... Alright?" he asked hesitantly.
"I am now." I forced a smile. "Thank you for coming. But most importantly, thank you for helping me."
"I'm just holding up my end of the deal."
We sat in the corridor together, neither of us speaking. I pulled my knees tighter against my chest, breathing in the cold sterile air that never comforted anyone. Somewhere in the distance, a phone rang. A child cried. A heart monitor beeped. Such was the heartbreak that came with being in a hospital.
"You didn't have to come," I murmured, feeling uncomfortable with the silence. "I wasn't even sure if you would."
"I had to," he said quietly. "When I make a deal, I don't back out."
I smiled and nodded silently. There was no turning back now. But none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that Emily would be okay. I hoped.
"What happened to your friend?" he suddenly asked.
"She's had peptic ulcers for as long as we could remember, but five months ago, everything escalated and her condition worsened. The ulcers grew, developed into perforated ulcers that led to her organs failing. She needed surgery months ago, but we couldn't afford it." I paused, the shame tightening my throat. "We thought we had more time."
"It's okay. You don't need to talk anymore."
Wiping my tears, I asked, "You're a doctor. How risky is the surgery? Will she be alright?"
"There are risks with every surgery," he started, "but one thing I'm confident in is the skill of the doctors here."
His face was devoid of emotion as he spoke, but hearing his words calmed me down. Maybe it was because they were coming from a seasoned doctor.
"She'll be okay," I said internally. For the first time in a while, I truly wanted to believe everything would be okay.
Another nurse approached us with a clipboard in hand. "The payment's been confirmed. We'll keep you updated as soon as the surgeon comes out."
I nodded, mouthing a soft "thank you."
The nurse walked away, and the silence returned.
"If something happens to her…" My voice wavered. "I don't think I could live with it."
He turned to me, his eyes softening for the briefest moment.
"Nothing will," he said gently. "She's strong. So are you."
I nodded, trying to believe him. Then I said it. "I can sign it now… the contract."
Zayne looked at me, searching my eyes for something. Then he nodded and said, "It's in the car. I'll go get it."
He took a few steps toward the entrance, but I stood quickly.
"Wait!"
He turned.
I had to get this out of the way before we took the next step. Taking a deep breath and gathering my courage, I said, "There's something you need to know."