Page 14 of The Candle Palace (Jamison Valley 6)
“I’ll give him another dose of morphine in his IV to help him rest.” Dr. Vernon ran a hand through his nearly black hair, combing it away from his forehead with his fingers. He looked as exhausted as I felt. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I will,” I promised.
“I’m worried about fluids. Those arm burns are worse than the ones on his torso. The seeping should have slowed by now, but it’s just as bad as it was when he got here.”
The knot in my stomach tightened. “What can we do?”
“Keep his saline bag running on full. Get him to drink more. Push the calories too.”
“Okay.” The second Dr. Vernon left, I was calling Food Service to get Milo a protein shake. Then I’d sit there and make sure he drank it. And a glass of water. And then ate a banana.
“Thanks, Sara.” Dr. Vernon placed his hand over m
y arm, squeezing my bicep. He smiled, dropped his hand before the warmth could sink beneath my scrubs, then turned and walked away.
The touch was purely platonic. Simply a friendly gesture of camaraderie after a long day. Maybe my paranoia toward Dr. Vernon’s advances was my mind running rampant. Maybe he was socially awkward. I already knew I was. Maybe the anxiety I’d had around him lately had just been our awkward bubbles bumping into one another.
He was a good doctor. His aggressive approach to treating burns might be brutal, but patients left with minimal scarring from their injuries. Maybe what I needed to do was give Dr. Vernon the benefit of the doubt. To stop condemning him after every encounter.
The rest of the day went by quickly. After Milo drank his protein shake and ate a banana, he fell asleep from the added pain medication. I checked on him frequently over the last hour of my shift, and by the time the evening shift had arrived to take over, I was more than ready to go home.
I collected my things from the locker room and popped in to say good night to Luna. She was watching a sitcom on her laptop, giggling vivaciously, a sound that gave me renewed energy. I left her laughing and headed for the elevators, but as I passed Milo’s door, it beckoned me inside.
His room was dark. His parents had gone. I thought he might still be asleep, but as I came closer, he opened his eyes.
“How are you?” I asked. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”
He shook his head, the movement barely noticeable, as his eyes drifted shut again.
“Will your parents be back?”
He sighed. “I told them to go home.”
“Home, home? Or the hotel?”
“Montana.”
I frowned but had learned my lesson earlier today. It wasn’t my place. “Just call for a nurse if you need any help to the bathroom.”
He stayed perfectly still, his chest barely rising and falling with his breath, and I took his silence as my cue to leave.
But before I could turn away—before I could go home and come back tomorrow as Milo’s former nurse—his hand reached out and took my elbow.
The touch was scorching. Tingles ran up my elbow and spread like fireworks through my shoulders. Even with layers of gauze on his hands and the long-sleeved thermal I wore beneath my scrub top, the touch was so powerful it stole my breath.
“You used to sit with her? My neighbor?” he asked.
“I did.”
His lashes lifted, and the misery in those dark pools sent a stabbing pain through my chest. “Will you sit with me too?”
The right answer was no.
But my heart whispered, “Yes.”
Three
“Go home.”
