The Unidentified Patient

Melissa’s POV

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After my words echoed through the room, my parents exchanged surprised glances but my mother was the first to recover.

“You found someone?” She repeated, her voice sharp with disbelief.

“Yes, I did.” I kept my voice steady, even though my heart was pounding so loud I was sure they could hear it.

I knew perfectly well that I had just told the biggest lie of my life.

My father leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he studied me. “Well, that’s certainly interesting. So, who is this man?”

I shrugged, looking nonchalant. “Does that really matter?”

“Melissa!” My mother looked at me incredulously, her mouth falling open. “How can you say that? Of course it matters! We need to know who you’re planning to marry.”

“Why? Are you going to interview him before allowing me to say yes?” My voice cracked a little at the end.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” My mother said,

“Then perhaps you should stop treating my marriage like a family recruitment exercise.” I snapped and immediately regretted how bitter I sounded.

Then, my father cleared his throat. “Enough.” He uttered, his voice sharp. “If this man is serious about you, we should meet him.”

I swallowed hard.

Meet him?

My stomach dropped to the floor.

That was the last thing I wanted to hear but now I’m stuck between my lies.

“I’ll arrange something when the time is right.” I said, my voice steady, though every part of my body trembled and my palms were slick with sweat.

“And when will that be?” he asked.

“Soon, Dad.” I said.

But my mother’s gaze pierced right through my fake confidence as she narrowed her eyes, “I hope you aren’t making this up just to get out of the arrangement we’ve made.”

I met her gaze, forcing myself not to look away. “Would I lie about something like that?”

The question came out a little too quickly.

Too defensive.

And suddenly Vanessa made a loud yet fake choking, and I shot her a warning look that says Do not say a word.

Eventually, my father stood, adjusting his suit jacket. “Very well. We will wait for you to arrange the meeting. But don’t keep us waiting indefinitely.”

“Of course.” I nodded in response.

Afterwards, they exchanged a few more words before finally leaving.

And the moment the door closed, I let out a long and shaky breath I didn’t know I was holding and sank onto the sofa.

“Well,” Vanessa began, curiosity growing in her expression, her eyes sparkling in mischief.

I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers to my templates. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Whatever you’re about to say. I can hear you thinking it”

She sat beside me, a huge smile spreading across her face until she was practically beaming. “Melissa Ashgrove, you have a man?”

I covered my face, embarrassment filled my eyes. “Please, Vanessa.”

“Who is he? Where did you meet him? How long have you been dating?”

She fired the questions so fast I got dizzy. So I lowered my hands and stared at her, deadpan.

“Can you stop talking for one second?”

She pressed her lips together, but the amusement in her eyes remained. “Fine. I’m listening.”

With that, I hesitated just a little bit before telling her everything.

I explained how badly the blind date had gone, how Sebastian and Stephanie had humiliated me, and how I’d approached the handsome stranger sitting nearby.

Then I told her what happened next. And when I finished, Vanessa’s mouth was hanging open.

“Wait. Let me get this straight.” She pointed at me, her eyes wide as saucers. “You walked up to a man you had never met, asked him to marry you, and he actually said yes?”

I nodded.

She stared at me for another second. Then she burst out laughing.

It was loud, uncontrollable, clutching to her stomach.

“You’re insane!”

“Thank you. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help the small, hysterical laugh escaping me.

“No, seriously! What possessed you?” She was still wheezing.

“I was trying to get away from Sebastian and Stephanie!”

“So you decided the best escape route was marriage?” She raised a perfect eyebrow.

I grabbed a cushion and threw it at her but she caught it, still laughing.

“Alright, alright! But what happened after that? Did you exchange numbers?”

Her tone turned hopeful but my smile disappeared. With that, Vanessa slowly lowered the cushion, her smile fading. “Melissa?”

I looked away, suddenly interested in the ceiling design.

“Don’t tell me…” her voice dropped.

“We didn’t.” I whispered.

For a moment, she said nothing. Then she placed a hand against her forehead dramatically.

“Oh, my goodness. You proposed to a stranger, and you didn’t even get his number?”

“I didn’t think I’d need it!” I groaned.

“And now you’ve told your parents you’re going to marry him?” Her voice rose an octave.

I groaned. “Can you please stop reminding me?”

Vanessa shook her head, but her expression softened. “What’s his name again?”

“Nathaniel Brooks.”

“Alright. Let’s see if we can find him.”

So, she reached for her phone, and I brought mine out as well. We searched his name, tried different combinations and looked through several profiles, but nothing gave us a definite match.

It was as if he was an alien to the internet without any presence.

Eventually, Vanessa dropped her phone onto her lap while I stared at my screen.

“Maybe he doesn’t use social media.” I said, trying to sound optimistic.

“Or maybe he has a very common name.” She shrugged.

“That isn’t helping.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

I nodded, although I wasn’t particularly convinced because when on earth would I get a man to meet my parents.

However, one week passed, and I was back at the hospital, focused on my duties when an emergency call came through.

One of the nurses hurried toward me, her expression tense, so was her face.

“Doctor Melissa!” She said slightly out of breath. “There’s a gunshot victim being rushed here.”

I immediately dropped the file I was holding and stood. “Have they notified the trauma team?”

“Yes, Doctor. They’re preparing the bay.”

“Good. Notify the blood bank. We may need an emergency transfusion.” I said, then hurried toward the emergency bay, pulling on my gloves as I walked.

A few minutes later, the paramedics rushed in with a stretcher, the wheels squeaking loudly.

“Male patient, gunshot wound to the abdomen! He’s lost a significant amount of blood and has been unconscious since we picked him up.”

“Transfer him to the bed.” I instructed, moving closer as they transferred him.

My stomach churned.

His shirt was soaked in blood, and his face was pale. There was blood around his forehead and cheek, but his features were still visible.

“What are his vitals?”

“Blood pressure is eighty over fifty. Pulse is one-thirty.” One of the paramedics said.

Then, I frowned.

“He’s in haemorrhagic shock. Get oxygen on him, establish two large-bore IV lines, and start an emergency transfusion. I want blood samples sent for crossmatching immediately.”

The team moved quickly.

I examined the abdominal wound while another doctor checked his breathing. An ultrasound revealed signs of significant internal bleeding.

“He needs surgery immediately,” I said. “Contact the surgical team and prepare him for theatre.”

His blood pressure remained dangerously low, but after the transfusion and our initial efforts to stabilize him, the surgical team arrived.

So, I gave the surgeon a brief report on his condition, the suspected internal injuries, and the treatment already administered.

“We’ll take it from here,” he assured me.

Then, I nodded and stepped aside as they wheeled the patient toward the operating theatre.

Only then did I take a proper breath.

“That was close,” one of the nurses murmured.

I glanced at my bloodstained gloves. “Let’s hope the surgery goes well.”

I was about to return to the emergency department when another nurse approached with a clipboard.

“Doctor, we’ve received the patient’s identity and belongings.”

“Alright. What’s his name?” I asked distractedly, wiping my hands.

She checked the document in her hand. “Nathaniel Brooks.”

I froze.

My blood ran cold.

“Nathaniel Brooks?”

“Yes, Doctor.” The nurse answered, confused by my reaction.

My eyes snapped toward the paper in her hand.

“Let me see that.”

She passed it to me, and I stared at the name printed on the document.

Nathaniel Brooks.

My mind immediately returned to the man at the restaurant.

But that couldn’t be the same man. I thought.

Or could it?

“Is something wrong, Doctor?” the nurse asked.

But I barely heard her. “Are you certain this is his identity?”

“Yes. It matches the information provided by the people who brought him in.”

I looked through the glass toward the operating theatre.

My heart thudding.

“Do you know who he is?” I asked.

The nurse nodded. “He’s from the Brooks family. They’re one of the most influential families in the country. They own several major businesses.”

I looked down at the document again, it was really him.

The same man I had impulsively asked to marry me. And now he was lying unconscious behind those operating theatre doors, fighting for his life.

I slowly turned toward the theatre, my breath catching in my throat, my entire body frozen.

What had happened to him?