Two months later
Savannah's Pov
"Should we go for a lunch?" Isabella questioned me as she peeked through the half-door into my cabin. I looked up from my computer screen and asked, "You finished?" She entered my cabin and stood in front of me. "No, but I'm hungry, and nothing comes before food for me." She blinked at me and I laughed. "Okay, give me a few minutes" and I continued my work. Almost after 10 minutes, "Let's go, get you full" and we went to the cafeteria.
The antiseptic smell of the hospital hit me like a wave as I stepped through the sliding glass doors. Each morning felt like a new test, a reminder that life goes on in the stark, fluorescent-lit halls where hope and despair intertwined. I had returned to work after a month in a hospital, a new place, a new journey, a new environment and a new me. I started working in a HealZone Medical, It was offered by Blaze, at first I was against it and was hesitant because there are many more deserving people than me, they need it and as for me I had my work in You Heal hospital, but Blaze keep on insisting and I had always dreamt of working here one day, so I thought and started my new jorney her, leaving everything else behind but the weight of my grief hung around me like a heavy coat I couldn't take off.
As I walked to the nurse's station, I felt the familiar thrum of activity: doctors discussing cases, nurses bustling about, patients needing care. I forced a smile for my colleagues, who looked at me with a mix of concern and encouragement. They didn't know how to ask, and I didn't know how to tell them.
The first few shifts had been a blur of routine and distraction. Tasks kept my hands busy, but my heart was elsewhere, trapped in memories of my child-laughing, playing, the sound of their voice still echoing in my mind. I often found myself staring out the window, the sun shining brightly, while inside I felt like I was still caught in a storm.
The first surgery was a complex case-a young boy with a heart defect. I focused intently on the procedure, the rhythm of my hands guiding instruments with precision. It was a welcome distraction, the adrenaline pushing back the memories that threatened to engulf me. For a few moments, I could forget the pain, lost in the intricate dance of sutures and healing.
But between the beeping monitors and the murmurs of the surgical team, my mind would wander. I could almost hear my child's laughter, feel their small hand in mine. Each time I blinked, I had to remind myself why I was here to honor their memory by continuing to save lives.
As I closed the incision, I felt a rush of relief. The boy was stable, and I took a moment to let that sink in. I had done my job. I had made a difference. Yet, a bittersweet ache lingered, the joy of saving a life was tempered by the grief that never fully left me.
As Isabella placed the food on the table opposite me, "Here is your favourite Black Coffee and Cobb salad" I smiled at her and took a sip of my black coffee, Isabella, a 23-year-old nurse, was one of the sweetest people I met here in this new place. She is a registered nurse at this hospital and very dedicated to her work.
In spite of her younger age than me, I immediately bonded with her when I walked into the hospital. She never left me alone ever since I was there, not saying that in a bad way, but I am grateful for her. I think I made the right decision about starting working here because all her talk and presence divert my attention from anything and either I am busy with surgeries, or I get a little time for anything else.
"What's your plan for the christmas?" Bella asked me and I stopped eating putting my utensils down on the table leaning back on my seat, "I don't know" my voice was audible and my thoughts went back to theo, had always loved this time of year-the decorations, the traditions, the magic that seemed to wrap around us like a warm blanket.
But this year, everything felt hollow. I caught myself glancing at the outside the cafeteria through the glass window, each one a story we had shared. And i remembered the little gingerbread man we had made together, the handmade decorations that held the imprint of tiny hands.
I could almost hear their voice urging me to put up the tree, to hang the lights. I tried to imagine the joy that would have filled the room, the sparkle in their eyes as we unwrapped the familiar ornaments. But instead, the silence felt deafening, a reminder that my home was missing its brightest light.
I took a moment to breathe, grounding myself in the present. Outside, the world will buzzed with festive energy-families gathering, children playing in the snow. I longed to join them, to find joy in the season, but the heaviness in my heart felt too profound.
This Christmas would be different, yes, but perhaps it could also be a time of remembrance. I resolved to keep our traditions alive, to celebrate the joy they brought to my life, even if that joy felt muted this year. And as I gazed at the tree outside, I realized that while my heart ached, it also held the love we shared a love that would never fade, no matter how quiet the season felt.
"Wanna join me" she asked "Let's go around the city and have fun?" she exclaimed excitedly, "What say, Savannnah?" she asked me, and I smiled as she asked, "You're looking forward to Christmas more excitedly" I suspiciously asked, my eyes wide with excitement. "Do you perhaps...?" I paused as I stared at her.
"Wh-what do you mean?" she stuttered, and I knew there was something else going on. "Tell me." I asked, leaning towards her at the table. "T-tell you what" I smirked. "You stuttering, who is that person?" I questioned her. "Person? Who?" she questioned. She looked flustered, her cheeks red with tomato. "Tell me or I'm not talking to you" I replied, leaning back on my chair.
"Savannah" she looked annoyed, but had no choice but to surrender. "We met at the cafe around my house about half a year ago" she continued. "We have similarities and taste, we basically matched, and we talked and we fell in love" she blushed with a pink glow on her face and I said, "No honey, we need another story time to tell everything" and I added, "Go on celebrate your Christmas with your person"
I interrupted her when she was about to protest "Don't worry about me, I have a lot of work to do on that day and I'll be busy." I got up and left the cafeteria, she needed to celebrate her life and I don't want to stop her
-Around 8 PM
The cool night air wrapped around me as I stood by the front gate of the hospital, my breath visible in the chill. After another long shift, my legs ached, and the weight of the day pressed heavily on my shoulders. I glanced at my watch, wishing the taxi would arrive soon.
The parking lot was mostly empty, the glow of the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. I wrapped my coat tighter around myself, trying to ward off the evening chill that seeped into my bones. The sounds of the hospital had faded, replaced by the quiet hum of the night. Just as I started to lose hope, a familiar car pulled up. I looked up, my heart fluttering slightly. It was him. The man who had been my steadfast companion, who had always known when I needed a little light in my life. His warm smile greeted me, and for a moment, the weight of the day felt a little lighter.
"Need a ride?" he asked, his voice smooth, almost hypnotic.
I hesitated for a moment, caught off guard. "I called a taxi," I replied, trying to sound casual, though my pulse quickened.
"It's getting late" he said with a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Let me take you home."
I studied him, feeling the weight of his gaze. There was something magnetic about him-an unspoken intensity that drew me in. I knew he was connected to things I couldn't fully understand, but there was a warmth beneath the surface, a hint of something genuine.
With a sigh, I climbed into the back seat, the warmth of the car enveloping me. As I settled in, I could feel his eyes on me, an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "You shouldn't be out here alone so late," he said, his tone almost protective.
As we drove through the city, the lights flickered past, illuminating the intensity of his gaze. "Long shift?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, the usual," I replied, trying to sound casual. "It's hectic this time of year."
"I know," he said, his voice steady. "You work too hard."
His words sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't help but wonder how he knew that. There was something deeper behind his concern, a connection I couldn't quite grasp.
The driver took a turn, and I caught a glimpse of the night sky through the window, stars shining against the darkness. "You shouldn't have to work these hours alone," he said, his tone shifting to something softer. "You deserve to be taken care of."
I glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. "You don't have to worry about me," I said, trying to brush it off.
"Doesn't mean you should," he said, his tone softening. "There's more to life than just surviving your shifts."
I felt a flutter of something-appreciation, maybe even affection-but I brushed it aside, unwilling to delve too deep into my feelings.
I took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "It's been... hard," I admitted. "Some days are better than others."
"I can only imagine," he said, his tone filled with empathy. "I'm here if you need to talk about it." As we pulled away from the hospital, the city lights blurred past, each one a reminder of the life outside these walls. We fell into a comfortable silence, but it wasn't awkward, it felt like a shared understanding. He glanced at me, and I could see the question in his eyes-what could this be between us?
The road stretched out ahead, and I found myself wishing the ride would last longer. There was something about him that felt like home, a refuge from the chaos of my days. I wanted to lean into that feeling, to explore what we could become together, but fear held me back.
"Do you want to grab something to eat?" he asked, breaking the silence. "I know a great little diner that's open late." "I promise to keep it light. No pressure."
I could see the sincerity in his eyes, the warmth that always drew me in. It would be easy to say yes, to let myself enjoy a moment outside of my work. "Okay," I finally replied, my heart lifting at the thought.
As we headed toward the diner, the night felt full of possibilities. I glanced at him, the way he focused on the road, the subtle smile playing on his lips. I knew I was at a crossroads, caught between the safety of routine and the uncertainty of what could be.
The diner was a small haven, with its warm glow and the familiar clatter of plates and chatter of patrons. I sat in a booth by the window, staring into my coffee as I tried to ground myself.
The night felt heavy, yet here I was, attempting to enjoy a simple dinner. The jukebox played softly in the background, old tunes weaving a tapestry of nostalgia and melancholy. I took a deep breath, trying to drown out the swirling memories and allow myself a moment of normalcy.
As we settled into the rhythm of conversation, he seemed to be trying to draw me out of my shell. He asked about my day, how I was , and I found myself opening up more than I had expected. There was something safe about him, even with the shadows of his world lingering around us.
Eventually, he leaned in, his gaze steady. "So, what are your plans for Christmas?" he asked, the question hanging in the air between us.
He nodded, his expression softening. "I get that. It's a tough time, especially after what you've been through."
"Yeah," I said, looking down at my coffee. "I used to love Christmas, the lights, the decorations, the joy. But now... it feels hollow."
"I understand," he said gently. "But maybe this year can be different. Maybe you can create new memories, even if they're small."
I looked up, surprised by the warmth in his voice. "Like what?"
He thought for a moment, and I stared at him the suddenly something he said took me by surprise "I wanna Join you" I didn't quite understood what he meant do I just stared at him without saying or asking anything.
"Let me do it again then" he put down his utensils down on the table, "I want to celebrate my christmas with you, let me join in Ana" and she again did that, my heart skipped a beat with a nickname he had recently given me and I didnt object somewhat my ears liked it when he said that, "I would love that" His sincerity encircled me like a lifeline, I could see his genuine care in his eyes, the way he was wanting to help me.
He smiled back, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "How about we start with some decorations? I'll bring the lights and you can pick out a tree."
"A tree?" I echoed, the idea sounding foreign yet exciting. "I haven't done that in years."
"Then lets do it tomorrow then" he said. "I'm not sure, I- I don't want to" I say as I remembered all the memories of Christmas with Theo , I know this is not good but I can't "Okay, we won't then" he said which confused me but that was good enough for me, a soft smile crept on his lips which so much adored him on his handsome face,
As we finished our dinner, the weight of sorrow still lingered, but now it was accompanied by a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could embrace this season of joy alongside the pain, and with him by my side, it felt a little more possible.
Author's Note :
Hello y'all, how are you? I hope doing good <3
Can't believe we're halfway to the story :(
Comments will be appreciated:)
And if you can then please use some power stones <3
Good Night/Morning<3<3