Page 27 of The Candle Palace (Jamison Valley 6)
The evening I spent with Milo talking about my family turned out to be the last of my evening visits to his room. That had been two weeks ago.
I wish I had stayed another five minutes to memorize his woodsy smell. I wish I had asked him just one more question to watch those soft lips answer. Even though I’d spent hours in his room that night and all the nights before, it hadn’t been enough.
After talking about my family, we visited about nothing until nearly midnight. I learned that he didn’t like strawberry smoothies and preferred orange or blueberry, but he didn’t have the heart to tell his mom. Milo asked about my college experience and I asked about his time in the police academy.
We talked about some of the cases he’d worked as a deputy. We talked about my favorite things about being a nurse. We talked about my love for pepperoni pizza and how much he missed the bacon cheeseburgers from the Prescott Café.
Hours passed until I finally left and walked home in the dark. The sidewalk was well lit. I’d made that walk hundreds of times after nightfall. But Milo insisted I call him once I got home.
His voice was rich and smooth. Not too deep to be gravelly. Not too high to be feminine. I hadn’t appreciated it enough until that moment, when he spoke for a few short moments to bid me good night.
I hung up the phone and knew I was in serious trouble.
Little did I know that trouble was going to manifest so soon.
When I got to work the next morning, I stepped off the elevator, still smiling and riding the high from my time with Milo, only to be met with an irritated stare from my boss, Amber.
That smile dropped and didn’t come back again.
Amber asked me to follow her to the staff lounge, where she closed the door and proceeded to tell me how Dr. Vernon had made a passing, casual comment about my growing affections for a patient.
Amber had done her research. She’d asked around and knew I’d been spending my evenings with Milo. It wasn’t technically against the rules, but it was pushing the boundaries of professionalism.
Did it matter that I’d done the same with Luna? No. My time with Luna hadn’t bothered Dr. Vernon.
But the doctors, well . . . they’re the doctors, Sara.
Amber recommended—read, ordered—I work with other patients from here on out. And my evening visits were over. After all, we had to make sure Dr. Vernon was happy, didn’t we? He was the doctor spearheading a new unit. His success here meant success for the unit and, ultimately, my job.
Amber left not long after. I stayed in the lounge with my head hung in shame.
I’d never been reprimanded by a boss. I’d rarely gotten into trouble with Dad and whenever I had, it had made me sick to my stomach. Growing up, I’d been a good kid. I’d been the girl who followed the rules without question. The first drink I’d had was after I’d turned twenty-one.
When I left the nurses lounge for the locker room, I walked the halls, feeling like everyone’s eyes were on me. That they all knew I’d had a slap delivered to my wrist.
Maybe no one knew. No one asked about it, but no one asked me what side of the unit I wanted to work either.
Dr. Vernon arrived an hour later, much too happy that he’d found me in the farthest room from Milo’s. I wanted to throw a pack of gauze at that smug grin on his face.
But the worst part? He hadn’t been wrong.
How many times had I told myself to go home? How many times had I worried this attraction to Milo would cost me my job? I guess not enough.
Stupid, Sara.
That was two weeks ago. I hadn’t been to Milo’s room since.
I owed him an explanation for my disappearance. It was the right thing to do. But I couldn’t bring myself to face him. To see the disappointment. Or worse, to see nothing at all.
Did he miss me? Did he wonder where I’d gone? He hadn’t called. Maybe he was just as happy with the other nurses, the ones who respected boundaries and didn’t crowd his room every night because they were desperate for his attention.
Milo had been here for a month. He’d been scheduled for his first skin graft this week, but I’d overheard Dr. Vernon tell Kym this morning they would have to postpone the surgery another week.
Maybe two.
He wasn’t healing as quickly as they would have liked. The burns on his torso didn’t have strong enough blood flow, and if there wasn’t a good supply, the grafted skin wouldn’t latch on.
Milo was going to be heartbroken. A delay meant he’d be here longer, away from his job and family. It was February and he’d been here a month. How much time could he take away from his job and still keep it?
