WHEN NO ONE IS WATCHING (GL)

Chapter 7: Discharged, But Not Detached

The hospital courtyard wasn't grand, but at that moment, it felt like a secret escape.

Jane and Jose found a quiet bench under a shaded tree—far from the noise of the emergency entrance but still within the hospital walls. The soft hum of distant conversations, birds chirping, and a breeze whispering through the trees made the world feel… paused.

Jane handed Jose a small tub of vanilla-strawberry swirl, their fingers brushing—a spark in the simplest touch.

"You didn't have to walk all the way here," Jane said, glancing sideways at her.

"And miss this?" Jose scooped a spoonful of ice cream, eyes locking on Jane's face.

"You promised snacks. This counts."

Jane chuckled, dipping into her own tub. "Barely. Next time, I'll smuggle in fries."

They laughed, and for a moment, the atmosphere softened.

But the silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was thick—charged.

Every now and then, their eyes met.

Too long.

Too often.

Too loud, despite the silence.

Jane was the first to look away, pretending to focus on her ice cream.

Jose, however, leaned in just slightly. "You're cute when you avoid eye contact."

Jane coughed, choking slightly on her spoon.

"I'm not avoiding anything."

"Mhm," Jose teased. Her smile was playful, but her eyes? Bold. Intense. Hungry for answers Jane wasn't ready to give.

From across the courtyard, behind a glass hallway, Evelyn watched.

Her arms folded. Her expression, unreadable.

But Jose saw her.

Of course she did.

And instead of ignoring it, she turned up the tension.

She scooted closer to Jane, her thigh grazing hers.

"So… does this count as a date?" she whispered, just loud enough.

Jane blinked. "What?"

"You're feeding me ice cream. You're holding my hand. You snuck me out of my ward."

Jose leaned in, lips dangerously close to Jane's ear.

"That's pretty date-like to me."

Jane's heart skipped. "We're still in the hospital."

"So?" Jose smiled.

"It doesn't change how I feel sitting next to you."

Jane swallowed. Hard.

Then, almost as an instinct, she glanced toward the glass corridor.

Her eyes almost met Evelyn's—but the nurse turned and hid just before they could lock eyes.

The tension lingered, unspoken but heavy.

Jose caught the glance.

She smirked, scooping a bit of her ice cream—and gently pressed the spoon to Jane's lips.

"Taste it," she whispered, eyes locked on Jane's.

And Jane… did.

Eyes closed, lips parting.

When she opened them again, Jose was watching her like she was made of poetry.

"Sweet, right?"

"Very," Jane whispered back—but they both knew she wasn't talking about the ice cream anymore.

Evelyn turned away.

Jose grinned to herself.

Jane didn't notice it, but a quiet war had begun.

And Jose wasn't losing.

THREE WEEKS LATER.

The hospital hallways felt different that morning—calmer, quieter, and oddly… heavier.

Jane sat at her desk, scribbling the final notes on the discharge form for Room 9.

She read over it twice. Heart racing slightly.

Josephine Yeboah-Davis. Fit for discharge. Healing well. Vitals stable. Mood… questionable.

Jane almost smiled as she scratched that last part out.

She was about to head out when a knock came on her office door.

"Come in," she called.

The door opened—and in stepped Mr.Yeboah-Davis, sharp in a custom navy suit, with the same commanding yet warm presence she'd seen the day Jose was admitted.

Jane stood immediately. "Sir. Good morning."

He smiled and extended his hand. "Dr. Thompson."

They shook hands.

"I wanted to thank you again, personally," he began. "You've cared for my daughter with a kind of dedication I haven't seen in a long time. We're grateful."

Jane gave a modest smile. "She made it easy. She's strong."

He nodded. "That, she is. And stubborn."

They both chuckled.

"I'm picking her up myself today," he continued. "But I wanted to let you know… she's not going straight home."

Jane raised an eyebrow.

"I'm taking her somewhere quiet for a bit—her favorite place by the lake. She doesn't know yet. She needs peace before the chaos."

Jane smiled softly. "She'll love that."

Mr. Yeboah-Davis looked at her intently. "And in the evening, there'll be a small welcome-home dinner. More like a surprise party. Nothing huge—just family and a few friends."

Jane's brows rose. "You're inviting me?"

"I was hoping," he said, "you'd be there when she walks in. She'll want to see a familiar face. And—" he added with a slight smile, "—my sons will be thrilled too."

Jane didn't know what to say. Her throat felt tight with something that wasn't quite emotion but also not just surprise.

"We've been talking," he continued. "My wife and I. We'd like to keep you close."

She tilted her head, unsure what he meant.

"I mean," he clarified, "we'd like to retain you as the family's primary physician. On call when needed. Full access. Naturally… you'll be paid very well for your time."

Jane blinked. "I—I'm honored."

He smiled. "Think about it. We trust you."

Jane stood there a moment after he left, staring at the door.

The Yeboah-Davis family wanted her—a first-year doctor, still figuring her life out—as their trusted physician.

And Jose…

Jose was going to walk into a party where she'd be standing, waiting.

Suddenly, Jane wasn't sure which felt more terrifying—being near the woman who made her heartbeat stutter… Or realizing she was slowly becoming part of her world.

The lake was quiet, just the soft lapping of water and the whisper of wind through the trees. Jose sat on a bench facing the water, her legs tucked beneath a blanket her dad had insisted she bring.

She hadn't said much since they arrived.

Partly because she was still surprised he had driven her out here himself.

Mostly because something inside her felt… unsettled.

Her dad had barely looked at his phone the whole time. They talked about random things—her old art school days, her brothers, the twins' new obsession with chess—but not about the hospital. Not about Jane.

And maybe that's why Jane was the only thing circling her thoughts.

That evening.

The mansion gates were wide open, fairy lights curled around tall white columns, and music was already drifting through the night air. Cars were parked neatly on the sides, and a small catering team hovered near the front door.

Jose, blindfolded by one of the house staff, groaned. "Seriously? A blindfold?"

"Tradition," her father teased, guiding her forward.

She could already hear voices—muffled excitement, something bubbling in the air. Something waiting.

The moment they stepped through the door, the blindfold came off.

"SURPRISE!!!"

Lights, music, and cheers hit her all at once.

Family. Friends. Staff. A few close business partners. Everyone was there.

But her eyes scanned the room, frantically, almost panicked.

Until they landed on her.

Jane stood near the staircase, dressed in a deep emerald green suit, tailored perfectly to her form. Underneath, a crisp black shirt, buttoned just enough to stay formal—yet the look was anything but neutral.

It was striking.

She looked like everything Jose didn't know she needed to see that night.

And yet…

Jane stood still, shoulders stiff, eyes unsure—scanning for judgment. For stares. For whispers.

Because walking into a party like this, dressed like that, felt like walking a tightrope over a conservative fire.

Earlier that night, Jane had paced her room five times, wondering if she should wear a dress. Something "fitting." Something that screamed I'm a woman, see? But every time she pulled one out, it didn't feel like her. She couldn't fake it—not tonight.

She thought of what Jose had said one quiet afternoon in the hospital.

"You don't have to fit into a box someone else built. I see you, Jane. And I like what I see."

That was all she needed.

So now, as their eyes locked across the room, and the cheers faded into small chatter, Jose smiled.

And Jane… slowly breathed again.

Jose walked toward her—past her brothers, past her mother, past the guests.

"Well," she said softly, stopping in front of her, "you clean up... dangerously well."

Jane let out a half-laugh, nervous. "I thought I'd be judged."

Jose tilted her head. "Maybe you are."

A pause.

"But not by me."

Jane held her gaze for just a second longer than she should have.

"I was told the twins wouldn't forgive me if I didn't show up," she muttered.

Jose laughed. "They're right."

The room spun around them, but for a moment, it didn't matter.

Because in a house full of celebration, the real surprise was the way they kept finding each other… like magnets pulled in by something they hadn't dared name. Yet.