Pulse between us

Lunch hour

Noah’s POV

Hospitals don’t forget you.

They move on, sure — new staff, new routines — but the walls remember. The smell of antiseptic, the hum of the machines, the way time slows down between shifts.

It’s all the same.

Except her.

Taliah Monroe.

She walks through the corridor like she belongs here — calm, steady, untouchable. But I remember the version of her that laughed too loud, painted too late, and never looked tired.

Now, she looks… contained.

Every movement controlled. Every smile measured.

And I’m the reason for that, aren’t I?

I tell myself I came here for the job — a fresh start, a clean slate — but every time I see her in that white coat, I realize that’s a lie I can’t even sell to myself.

The break room is half-empty when I step in. Riley’s at the counter, texting with her usual grin. She glances up.

“Mr. Carter,” she says, “you planning to actually eat this time or just brood at the coffee machine again?”

I smile faintly. “Depends, what’s on the menu?”

“Same as yesterday,” she says. “Cold sandwiches and quiet dread.”

“Tempting,” I mutter, pouring myself coffee.

The door opens behind me, and before I turn, I already know it’s her.

You don’t forget the sound of someone’s footsteps — not when you used to fall asleep to them pacing your apartment, waiting for inspiration to strike.

“Taliah,” Riley greets. “Your fiancé’s waiting in the lobby. Said he’s k********g you for lunch.”

She smiles — soft, genuine — the kind that used to be mine. “Thanks, Riley. I’ll be back in an hour.”

And then I see him.

Liam Hayes.

Tall, confident, every bit the good man he looks like. He wraps an arm around her waist without hesitation, presses a quick kiss to her temple. She laughs — that quiet laugh she used to hide against my shoulder.

I look away before it hits too hard.

Riley catches my expression and smirks. “Guess Oceanview’s full of surprises, huh?”

“Guess so,” I say, forcing a nod. “Didn’t know she was engaged.”

“She doesn’t talk about it much,” Riley replies, eyes narrowing a little. “You two knew each other before?”

I take a slow sip of coffee. “Something like that.”

She studies me for a moment but doesn’t push. Good. Because I don’t think I could explain the truth — that I left her without a word, thinking I was doing the right thing… and now I can’t look at her without wondering if that choice broke more than just us.

From the window, I can see them outside — walking toward the hospital café. Her hair catches the sunlight, and for a second, she turns slightly, like she feels me watching.

Our eyes almost meet. Almost.

Then she looks away.

I exhale, staring into my untouched coffee.

Maybe this is what I deserve — to come back to the same place, the same air, and find that she’s moved on while I’m still standing where she left me.