The hours passed. Shane kept up a steady stream of easy conversation, nothing heavy, nothing probing. Stories about calls that went sideways in funny ways. The time a crew membergot stuck in a window during a drill. The ongoing war over whose turn it was to clean the firehouse bathroom.
I found myself laughing, then wincing because laughing hurt my head.
"Sorry," Shane said, not sorry at all. "I'll try to be less charming."
"Please do."
But I didn't mean it. And I think he knew.
At 6:45, the doctor cleared me for discharge.
"You'll need someone to drive you home," he said. "And someone to check on you every few hours tonight. Wake you up, make sure you're oriented."
He looked at Shane. Shane nodded.
The paperwork was simple. Shane stood close while I signed where they pointed, his paramedic credentials smoothing every wrinkle. The nurse smiled at us like we were a normal couple.
"Take care of her," the nurse said to Shane.
"I will."
The drive home was quiet at first. The city slid past the windows, lights coming on as dusk settled over Queens. My head throbbed in time with my heartbeat, but the pain was duller now, manageable.
"Thank you," I said. "For everything today. You really didn't have to do any of this."
"Don't mention it."
"I'm serious. You spent your entire day off in a hospital waiting room for a complete stranger. That's?—"
"That's a lot better than doing laundry, which was my original plan." He glanced at me, a hint of a smile on his face. "Trust me, you did me a favor."
I shook my head, then immediately regretted it as pain spiked behind my eyes. "You have a weird definition of favor."
"I've been told."
At my building, he walked me to the door and ran through the concussion protocol one more time. Headache that gets worse, confusion, nausea, call 911 immediately.
Then he asked for my number.
"To check in," he said.
I knew I should say no. Should keep this strange day contained, a weird story to tell Millie later, nothing more.
But I gave it to him anyway. I didn't know why.
Millie opened the door before I could reach for my keys, Zoe hovering behind her. Shane offered a little wave.
"She's all yours," he told Millie. "Make sure she actually sleeps."
He turned to me. "Goodnight, Maya."
"Goodnight. And thank you. Again."
"Stop thanking me." He was already walking backward toward the elevator. "Feel better."
The elevator doors closed behind him. I stood in the doorway for a moment, Zoe tugging at my sleeve, Millie asking who that man was, my head still pounding.
I stepped inside and closed the door, sat down on the couch, and let the noise wash over me.
