Love And Everything Between
370 Words
The next morning, she found him alone in the residents’ library.
He looked tired — defeated — like he had spent the night replaying her words.
“Adrian,” she whispered.
He gave a small smile. “Hey.”
She sat beside him, hands trembling.
“I wasn’t fair yesterday.”
“No,” he said softly. “You were hurting.”
“But I hurt you too.”
He stayed silent.
She forced herself to continue.
“The truth is… you scare me. You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle.”
He looked at her then — really looked.
She took a shaky breath.
“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to love without losing. But… I don’t want you to stop trying.”
Adrian’s eyes widened.
“Are you saying—”
“I’m saying I want to try,” she whispered. “With you.”
Slowly, cautiously, he took her hand.
She didn’t pull away.
Once they crossed that fragile threshold, everything changed.
Their love unfolded slowly, tenderly, beautifully.
Secret smiles across the nurses’ station.
His jacket draped over her shoulders on cold shifts.
Her hand brushing his as they walked.
Late-night conversations in empty hallways.
Kisses stolen in stairwells when no one was watching.
Her head resting on his shoulder after long rounds.
And of course — hospital gossip exploded.
Ramos walked in on them kissing in the supply closet.
“For the love of God,” Ramos groaned, “at least label the door next time so no one walks in!”
But their biggest challenge came from outside.
One night, Liana’s estranged father came to the ER — drunk, injured, angry. His words were harsh, accusing her of abandoning him, calling her cold and unlovable.
Adrian stepped between them, shielding her.
“Don’t talk to her like that.”
Liana broke down afterward, sobbing into Adrian’s chest.
“I’m not enough,” she whispered brokenly.
“I’m too difficult.”
“I’m too much.”
“No,” Adrian said fiercely.
“You’re everything.”
He kissed her tears, held her through the night, and whispered:
“You never have to be alone again.”
- Writer
