Kissed by danger

I was in my apartment sleeping when my phone's high-pitched ring woke me up. I groggily reached for it, blinking against the darkness. It was Flora, my colleague. "Dr. Sophia, I need a favor from you," she pleaded. “Can you cover my night shift?” I have to take care of an urgent matter. She asked with desperation in her voice. Her words hung in the air, carrying an unspoken expectation that I would agree to help her. "I let out a deep breath, feeling a mix of sadness and longing. This was supposed to be the night I celebrated my wedding. Instead, I felt alone and disappointed. I had imagined being wrapped in my partner's loving arms, exchanging sweet kisses, and feeling cherished. But that's not how things turned out." "Ryan, the man I married, was nowhere to be found on the night that was meant to be our wedding night. His absence felt like a harsh reality check, a painful reminder that our union was devoid of love and connection." To make matters worse, he didn't even show up for our wedding ceremony today. I was simply asked by his lawyers, present, to sign a document which sealed the marriage. I could not help but be sad; I never wanted this marriage in the first place, but my father insisted. He wanted me to marry Ryan, not because we were in love or even compatible. It turned out my father had gotten into financial trouble, owed money to investors, and was on the verge of going to jail; my father's only solution was for me to marry Ryan and help pay off his debts. I reasoned that there was no reason to lie in bed waiting for a man who didn't want me; I would much rather be productive at work. "I will come," I said numbly. What choice did I have? The drive to the hospital was quiet, but my mind screamed. As I walked into the duty room, the walls felt colder than usual, and the air carried a strange chill. I pulled on my lab coat and gazed at my image in the broken mirror. I was shocked by the emptiness in my eyes. “Out of nowhere.” I heard a CRASH!* The door exploded open, bouncing off the wall with unnatural force. Immediately, the room's lights went out, leaving it completely dark. I gasped, my heart hammering. With trembling fingers, I reached for something, anything, to protect myself. “Who is that?” I asked in fear. Suddenly, a dark figure rushed towards me, and I felt a violent impact as my back crashed against the desk. The force was so strong that it threw objects on the desk to the floor, making a loud clattering sound similar to metal hitting the ground. As I struggled to catch my breath, I felt a cold, sharp blade pressed against my throat, its icy edge unyielding and dangerous. My skin pricked with fear from the blade's extreme pressure. Shhh…. “Don’t speak,” a rough voice whispered in my ear and covered my mouth. Even with the darkness swallowing us, I could only make out a man covered in blood. His eyes looked sorry and desperate. He looked badly injured… Despite my fear, my training took over. I raised my leg to strike his weak side, but he was quicker and grabbed my thighs, pinning them firmly. Then I heard voices from outside… He ran in here!” "I heard loud footsteps getting closer and closer, and I was completely confused. My heart began racing as a result of the sudden rise in anxiety and fear inside of me. "Shhhh," the man whispered, closing my mouth tighter than he had before to prevent me from making any sound. He noticed a white doctor's coat hanging nearby and quickly put it on to hide his injured body. The coat helped hide his bruises and allowed him to blend in. "Before I could even react, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, catching me completely off guard." Startled, I pushed him back in surprise, but he didn't get angry. Instead, he looked at me with heavy breathing and pleading eyes. "Hey, pretend like we're lovers," he whispered. Before I could respond to his sudden request, the door creaked open ….and the handle turned, signaling that someone was at the door. I wrapped my arms around him quickly and brought his face even closer to mine.. I mimicked a soft, calculated, and alluring moan. Mmmmmh…kissing him gently… A sound I’d only ever heard in films. The door creaked open slightly again. Light filtered in from the hallway, painting a haunting silhouette of passion. His body shielded mine. They couldn’t see his blood or the knife. “Ugh… They’re just doctors… making out?” a male voice said with disgust. “That’s not Elijah,” another man muttered. “Elijah's bleeding out somewhere.” "Where could he have gone?" one of the men muttered, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "We need to find him," he continued, his tone laced with anger. "If we don't, we will be in big trouble." He looked at the others, his faces grim, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. Their footsteps faded away in the distance. But the injured man didn’t move. He stared down at me. Lust clouded his judgment. I tried to push him, but something stopped me. I could not believe I had allowed myself to kiss a stranger on my wedding night. My mind flashed back to a memory. Ryan Wilson. My so-called husband. The man I was forced to marry because my father’s business was collapsing under the weight of debt he incurred on himself. He had sought assistance from Ryan Wilson, and in return, Wilson demanded that I be handed over as collateral, as if I were a mere possession that could be claimed and controlled. That was the only way he could help my father because, according to him, nothing comes for free. Ryan's disinterest in me was clear from the beginning. He made no effort to acknowledge me publicly. I was simply a name on a document to him, a formality. He told me to keep my birth name and pretend our marriage did not exist, keeping it a secret from everyone except our families who knew. And there I was, on a cold desk, with a stranger who was rough and bleeding profusely but surprisingly gentle, even though it felt like cheating. I did not feel bad about it; I have always been a dutiful daughter; perhaps I should be rebellious for a change. Or maybe it was rage. Perhaps it was because I wanted to experience something other than the loveless marriage I was forced into. Afterward, his breath was warm on my cheek. "I will come back for you," he said, before disappearing into the night. I lay there dumbfounded. My body ached, but my emotions ached more. I was still thinking about what had just happened. "When my phone rang again, I quickly answered it. The nurse's urgent voice was on the other end. 'Dr. Sophia, we have a serious emergency. There's been a bad car accident, and we need you right away!'" I stood up, looked around my room, and quickly got dressed, leaving behind bloody memories and broken rules. The night blurred with surgeries and sirens. When I returned hours later, the duty room remained scattered. My fingers clenched as I recalled every detail of how I agreed to kiss a man I had met in a compromising situation. Flora walked in, smiling. “Thanks for taking the shift.” I nodded, offering a smile stitched with exhaustion. “You are welcome.” "She looked around, looking confused. 'What happened here?' she inquired, surprised." There were blood drops on the floor, and everything looked disorganized. "I dropped some things while rushing out," I said, my voice tight, attempting to appear busy so she would not press further with the questions. “That sounded strange, but she didn't ask any more questions. Instead, she quietly got down to cleaning." Suddenly, the director stepped in, followed by a sharply dressed man. “This is Michael,” the director said calmly. “Ryan Wilson’s assistant.” The director’s voice rang out with icy precision, slicing through the hum of the office. “Flora,” he called, eyes locking onto her like searchlights, “you were on duty last night... right?” Flora froze. The weight of the question pressed into her chest. She turned toward me with a quick flick. Her expression was a plea to keep the fact that I had covered up for her last night. Typically, before covering up for a staff member, the director is notified to ensure transparency, according to our hospital policy. But I said nothing; I remained silent. Not out of loyalty for her, but because that is what I would do for anybody. She moved, the tension in her jaw pulsing. She spoke quickly. "Yes, sir. I was on duty last night," she said, nodding her head. The words hung in the air like a fragile lie. Michael scanned the room and pointed at “her. Okay, follow me. Flora blinked. “Me? Why?” Is there an issue? “No time for questions,” Michael said, voice stiff. “Ryan needs to see you.” She shot a quick glance at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of anxiety and uncertainty, as if silently asking if everything was okay while she was away. I stood there, completely still, my mind racing with questions. Why had she been called in? What was going on? And what did the director want to talk to her about? The uncertainty hung in the air, making my heart beat just a little bit faster...