Secret Touches
950 Words
Monday came with silence.
Tanya arrived at the hospital expecting—hoping—for a glance, a nod, a whispered “good morning.” Something. But Dr. Blake walked past her in the hallway as if the kiss they shared hadn’t happened. As if his mouth hadn’t claimed hers with desperation. As if his fingers hadn’t grazed the bare skin beneath her blouse. As if he hadn’t whispered “this can’t happen” with trembling restraint right before vanishing from the on-call room like a ghost.
She waited for the next day. Then the next.
Nothing.
His professional mask had returned, colder and more flawless than before. He avoided eye contact. Spoke to her only when necessary. Never alone. Never lingering. Not even a flicker of the man who had once leaned in so close she’d forgotten how to breathe.
By Thursday, the gossip had begun.
It started with Nurse Sheila’s side glances at the nurses’ station.
“You know she’s the new flavor, right?” Sheila whispered to one of the other nurses, loud enough for Tanya to hear as she passed.
“The good doctor sure moves fast,” another added with a laugh. “But I heard he always goes back home in the end. Two kids and a fine wife—no contest.”
They weren’t even trying to hide it anymore.
Tanya kept her head down, pretending the stares and smirks didn’t bother her. Pretending the whispering didn't sting. Pretending her heart wasn't somewhere between humiliation and heartbreak.
Each shift became heavier than the last. Her patients noticed her dimmed smile. Her colleagues tiptoed around her. And Blake? He had perfected the art of pretending she didn’t exist unless they were discussing patient charts.
By Friday, Tanya snapped.
It was during a mid-morning round in the pediatric ward. A child’s mother asked Tanya if she was okay after noticing her red-rimmed eyes. That was all it took. The question cracked the dam she had been holding together all week.
Tanya turned the corner into a storage room, shut the door behind her, and collapsed against the wall.
The sobs came in violent waves. She pressed her palm to her mouth to muffle them, but the weight of rejection, embarrassment, and confusion was too much. She had risked her heart. Her reputation. Her sanity.
And he’d vanished.
“Tanya?”
The voice nearly stopped her heart.
Dr. Blake stood at the doorway, face drawn tight with concern. The professional mask was gone—his eyes searched hers with something she hadn’t seen in days: guilt, longing, vulnerability.
“I—I'm sorry,” she whispered, wiping at her face, humiliated to be found like this. “Please, just leave me alone.”
He didn’t move. “I can’t.”
She looked away, heart hammering in betrayal. “You already did.”
There was a long pause.
Then he stepped inside and gently closed the door behind him.
“Tanya, I thought staying away was the right thing. That if I didn’t touch you again… if I didn’t feel you again… I’d be able to move on. That you’d be able to move on.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “By treating me like I’m disposable? Like I imagined everything?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, stepping closer. “But I have. And I keep hurting you. And still… I can’t stay away from you.”
Silence stretched between them like a wire pulled taut.
She looked up at him, all the fight in her replaced with raw exhaustion. “Then stop pretending.”
In one motion, he closed the distance between them and kissed her.
It was nothing like the first kiss. That one had been heat and hesitation. This one was wildfire. His hands threaded into her hair, pulling her close like he wanted to merge their bodies. She clung to his shirt, gasping into his mouth as his lips trailed down her neck.
“This is wrong,” he breathed between kisses.
“Then why does it feel like the only thing that makes sense?” she whispered.
There was no going back.
From that day forward, they were inseparable—but only behind closed doors.
They became experts at stolen moments.
A graze of fingers in the hallway.
Late-night text messages that turned into phone calls laced with longing.
She started sneaking into his office during off-hours, heart pounding with the thrill and the shame. They didn't talk about his wife. About what this meant. About how it could end. It was easier that way—less real.
He would press her against his office wall, breathing her name like a prayer. She would whisper promises into his ear that she knew she couldn't keep.
Outside, the world went on.
Inside those walls, they created a world of their own.
On the surface, she looked fine. Smiled more. Brushed off gossip with a quiet confidence. No one could touch her now—not with Dr. Blake’s gaze heating her skin from across the room.
But Tanya was already spiraling.
Every kiss made her crave more. Every night he left for his family made her ache with emptiness. Every time he texted “Can’t talk now. Home.” she was reminded that no matter how much space she took up in his arms, there would always be a home she could never step into.
Still, she told herself she could handle it.
That she could love him and not break.
That she could give him everything and not lose herself.
But deep down, Tanya knew something was already slipping.
And she wasn’t sure she could stop it.
- Writer
