“And you’ll call me every day?”
“Every single day.”
“If anything feels wrong,” she said, “you come straight here.”
“I will.”
She sighed heavily. “I don't like this, Mireya. I don't like you being alone.”
“I’ll be okay,” I said gently, the words feeling hollow. “I promise. And I won’t be alone.”
“I love you so much, sweetheart. Please take care of yourself.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
I ended the call and stared at my phone until the screen went dark.
Guilt settled deep in my chest. My mother had begged me to come home, to be safe and surrounded by family. And I still said no.
I picked up Riven's card and turned it over slowly in my hands. The paper was thick, expensive-feeling, with his name printed in simple black letters.
Dr. Riven Cross
I could call him right now. End this waiting. Fix everything.I set the card back on the table and closed my eyes.
It could wait until morning. I could give myself one more night to pretend I still had choices.
Sleep never came. The night stretched endlessly while I lay staring at the ceiling of the break room, turning the offer over and over like something I couldn't quite put down.
Riven's offer was clean and professional. A job caring for his sister in exchange for housing and a modest salary. I would be working, earning my place. Not accepting charity. That part I could live with.
He had also said I wouldn't need to assist his surgeries. Or not as often.
I waited for that to sting.
It didn't.
And that surprised me more than anything else had today. I had built my entire identity around those hours in the OR, around being the person he reached for without thinking, around the particular satisfaction of anticipating him so precisely that the work felt like a conversation no one else could hear. I had assumed losing that would feel like losing something essential.
Instead, the thought of not being on my feet for twelve hours straight felt like setting down a weight I had forgotten I was carrying.
I was more tired than I had realized. Not just exhausterd–worn down.
The only thing that gave me even a moment of pause was the thought of seeing him less.
Which was its own problem entirely, because he had just invited me to live in his home, so that reasoning made absolutely no sense, and I was clearly more delirious than I thought, and I was not going to examine that any further.
Nope.
The part that actually stung was knowing he had seen me at my absolute worst. He knew exactly how badly I had failed. He had literally carried my unconscious body out of that supplycloset, stood there while my landlord aired every humiliating truth I had been trying to hide, and seen me utterly exhausted while handling a difficult patient.
That embarrassment was something I would simply have to live with.
Dawn broke through the hospital window, and I watched the sky change from black to purple and then to pale pink.I perched on the edge of a reclining chair in yesterday’s wrinkled and stained scrubs, staring at Riven’s business card again.
Just call. It’s a job. You need housing. He needs a nurse for Emma. That’s all this is.
As I stepped out of the break room, I saw him walking down the hallway. His stride was slow and confident, unmistakable. By the time I turned fully, he was already at the doorway—white coat on, tablet tucked under his arm.
