Chapter Three
I bent close enough to him, and he lifted his eyes to mine. He gave me a small smile, and I forced a smile back, even though looking at him, there was nothing to smile about.
But his eyes. They were the same magnetic blue. And so alive. Then as I looked at him, I realized that I wasn't afraid. For the first time in my life, I felt a real connection to someone and I could look them in the eyes because I wanted to.
I did exactly what I had done in the conference room. I stretched out a hand and touched his cheek. My thumb caressed him gently.
"Liam, I am Dr. Amelia Sanders." Just the way I'd been taught. Maintain a steady, calm voice no matter the situation, and hopefully Liam won't be able to tell there was anything different about me. "I am part of the team that will do the operation in a few minutes. Everything is ready and we are hoping for a successful surgery."
My photographic mind took in every detail of him and cross-referenced it with prior knowledge.
I scanned his eyes, lungs, heart, and liver based on the symptoms I could see. Liam was not likely to live another month, even with the surgery.
"You're going to be alright, Liam. I promise."
Fool, Emilia. Who are you to tell a patient who is this bad off that they will be alright? You know the rules. No false hope.
But he had to be alright. I had to see Liam better. I needed to.
The hand that squeezed mine was skeletal and cold. "When will the surgery begin?"
"We are wheeling you straight into the theater now." His hand squeezed mine.
"It's going to take a while," I responded, squeezing his hand back. "But I will see you as soon as you wake up."
The smile I attempted did not quite make it out, and I abandoned the idea and indicated they could push the gurney away.
"Thank you, Doctor Emilia."
I nodded and watched him being wheeled off. As I walked down the corridor, all my nerves were on edge. I looked down at my palm, where we had touched. I don't remember ever holding hands with another human being.
What a fool you are, Emilia. How could I fall in love with a dying man?
Twenty two hours later, the surgery was successful and Liam had been taken to ICU where his recovery would be monitored.
Liam's heart failed twice during surgery and had to be revived. Once his blood pressure spiked up so high that we were forced to abandon the surgery, close him up and wait for it to normalize before we continued with the surgery.
There were several close shots, but in the end, Liam was still alive.
Relief brought unbelievable exhaustion, I wanted nothing more than to lay still for at least thirty minutes. But first, I had to see Liam.
"The surgery went well." I said breezily to a group of nurses standing by their station.
I had been trained to allow my voice to rise and fall in the natural rhythm regular people had, but someone with autism would find it hard to do. Autistic people spoke with a flat robot-like tone. It took me years to fake this one thing others took for granted.
I'd also learned that people expected a smile on your face in times like these. I smiled, even though it felt forced.
Our hospital was not a regular hospital where patients could walk in and be treated. It was a specialist hospital where only the most impossible cases were accepted. Liam would not have come out of the operating room had he gone elsewhere.
I couldn't help it. This was my third time in Liam's room in as many hours. I would stare at his face while he slept and then leave, only to come back again.
What bothered me was the question I'd already asked myself a million times. What was special about him? Why was Liam different to me than any other man I'd ever met? Nothing if you weren't counting the fact that I'd willingly touched him. Twice.
The last time I'd been in his room, I'd run my hand over his cheek, then had felt weird and hurried away.
So this time I stood behind the door and peeked into the room. He should have been awake by now, and he was.
He was half turned away from me and it was clear that he was struggling to hold himself up.
I hurried into the room, only to stop short when I realized he was talking into his phone. His voice was barely a whisper, but each word came as clear as though he were screaming.
"The surgeons have done their best, but as it is they've only given me a few more months. Let's do the procedure. I am going to be dead soon anyway, I might as well take a chance."
What was Liam talking about? What procedure? I walked further into the room, and he looked up.
"Just get everything ready, and come get me. Yes."
He smiled at me and stretched out his hand. At first I thought he wanted me to hug him, and my heart began to race, and I stepped closer. But then I realized that he could no longer hold himself up and needed help. I rushed forward and laid him gently back on the bed.
The corridor light gave the darkened room a soft glow, just enough light to see without being too bright and it softened the extent of Liam's deteriorating health.
"What was that about?"
"What?" His eyes were closed, and the words were barely a whisper.
"You. On the phone just now. What procedure are you planning to do?"
His eyes opened slowly. They were as cold as ice. "Dr. Hemsworth, when I have a private conversation on my phone, it means it's none of any other person's business."
"I-I, I'm a doctor, Liam and I'm here to help you in so many ways. If only you'd confide in me."
"Help me, Amelia? Alright, why don't you help me feel better? Help me not to die, Amelia. Help me become strong enough to sit in bed, at least."
His voice was harsh and thick with emotion. I could understand how Liam felt. I mean, maybe I didn't know exactly how one would feel if they had such a short time to live.
I'd never had anyone close to me die and I've never been seriously ill in my life, but still I saw so many hopeless cases in this hospital, and believe me, I've seen a good share of deaths.
It's never easy on the person dying or their loved ones who would be left behind.
I understood what it was like to want to live, though.
Had it not been a desire to live and not merely exist that made me go through years of rehabilitation so that at least I had a chance to be a part of normal society?
Liam was young, unmarried and had a multi-billion dollar corporation. Why shouldn't he do everything in his power to stay alive?
I reached for him, and he moved his fingers away from my touch. Eyes still closed, he nevertheless said the words to me.
"Get out, Amelia."
"Liam, I-" Just then a nurse came into the room and walked over to his IV.
"How are you feeling, Liam?" She bent over him and smiled sweetly.
"I feel much better now that you're here." His tone was warm and kind. He gave me a pointed look and turned back to the nurse with a smile. Heart sinking, I stepped away.
I was at the door when I heard Liam gently laugh at something the nurse said.
I went for my afternoon rounds, and the whole time, all I heard was the nurse's giggles at something Liam had said to her.
I did my best to stay away from Liam, but I had to see him before I went home for the day.
His back was turned to me, and I stood at the entrance and watched the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.
I stepped into the room and reached for his file. Dr. Robinson had been there while I was doing my rounds, and Liam had been given his night medication.
Everything seemed alright. I glanced at my watch. Almost midnight. Time to rest for the day.
I sighed and was about to leave when I noticed Liam was looking at me.
I smiled. "How are you feeling?"
"How do you expect me to be feeling, Amelia? Any different from just a few hours ago when you were here?"
I sighed. "I'm really sorry, Liam."
"Good night, Dr. Hemsworth."
I had to touch him. I reached out and just as my fingers were about to touch his hand, Liam adjusted and slipped his two hands under his head.
Cheeks burning, I hurried out of the room.