Four: The Late-Night Talk

Unable to stand the suffocating walls of her husband hospital room any longer. Eva wandered to the hospital garden. It was quiet at night, almost eerie in its stillness. A fountain trickled softly in the center, the only sound apart from the occasional hum of distant machines inside. The night air was cool against Eva’s skin, brushing her face as she sat on a bench, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Sleep had abandoned her again. No matter how long she closed her eyes in the waiting lounge, nightmares came—images of Daniel gasping for breath, of his body going still on the kitchen floor. Then the kiss with Adrian right before her husband.

What if he had woke up and saw them?

She thought with guilt in her heart.

But the kiss was smeared in her memory. She had kept replaying it ever since, reliving it and wishing somehow it happened again. But she had warned him never to repeat such actions, and disappointedly he had respected her request.

He rarely spoke to her after that night. He just went about trying to save her husband.

She thought she was alone until she heard footsteps on the gravel.

“Eva.”

Her heart skipped. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

Adrian stood a few feet away, his white coat gone, leaving him in a simple black shirt with the sleeves pushed to his elbows. In the soft glow of the garden lamps, he looked less like a doctor and more like a man she had no business wanting.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” she murmured. “It’s late.”

“And you should be sleeping.” He came closer, his voice low but steady. “Neither of us is doing what we should.”

Eva gave a broken laugh, hugging herself tighter. “I don’t think I’ll ever sleep properly again.”

Adrian lowered himself onto the bench beside her, not touching, but close enough that she felt the warmth radiating from him. “You will,” he said quietly. “Not now, not soon—but you will.”

She turned her face toward him, catching the faint lines of weariness carved into his expression. He looked exhausted too, though he hid it better than she did. For a fleeting moment, she wondered who comforted him when the weight of saving lives grew too heavy.

“Have you ever…” She hesitated, her throat tight. “Have you ever lost someone you loved?”

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze fixed on the fountain, on the water catching the light. “Yes,” he said finally. “My sister. Years ago. Heart failure.”

Eva’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected him to share something so personal. “I’m sorry.”

Adrian shook his head once. “Don’t be. Pain has no remedy, Eva. It just… finds new ways to exist. But loneliness—” His jaw tightened. “Loneliness is what destroys you.”

The words struck her with brutal precision. She swallowed, her chest aching as she whispered, “That’s exactly how it feels. Like I’m already disappearing. Like I’m alone even when I’m not.”

He turned to her then, his eyes locking onto hers with such intensity she forgot how to breathe. “You’re not alone.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was thick, charged, dangerous. Eva should have pulled away. She should have reminded herself that this was her husband’s doctor, that Daniel lay unconscious just floors above them. But her body leaned toward Adrian, as though the gravity of him was stronger than her will.

When the moment grew unbearable, Adrian cleared his throat softly. “You need rest. Come. I’ll drive you home for a few hours. Just to reset.”

She should have refused, but exhaustion and the hollow ache inside her made her nod. “Okay.”

----

The drive was quiet, the kind of silence that hummed with unspoken thoughts. Eva stared out the window, city lights streaking by, her reflection pale in the glass. Every so often, her eyes drifted to Adrian’s hands on the wheel—steady, strong, veins shifting beneath taut skin. It was wrong to notice, but she did.

When they pulled into her driveway, the weight of reality pressed down again. The house looked foreign, empty without Daniel inside it. For the first time, she didn’t want to step through that door alone.

“Thank you,” she whispered, unbuckling her seatbelt. “For the ride.”

Adrian’s gaze flicked to her, unreadable in the shadows of the car. “Get some rest, Eva.”

She nodded, fumbling with her keys at the door. But when he turned to leave, something inside her snapped.

“Wait.”

Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around his wrist. The contact was electric—heat against heat, a tether she didn’t want to release.

Adrian froze, his body going taut. Slowly, he turned back to her, his eyes darker than night itself.

“Eva,” he said warningly, his voice low, strained. “This isn’t—”

But she didn’t let go. Her other hand rose, trembling, pressing against his chest. She felt the hard muscle beneath his shirt, the rapid thud of his heart that betrayed the control in his voice.

Her lips parted on a whisper. “Don’t go.”

And then there was no space left between them.

The kiss ignited like wildfire—hungry, reckless, a release of every forbidden thought they had tried to bury. Adrian’s hands cupped her face, dragging her closer, while hers tangled in his shirt, pulling him inside, shutting the door behind them.

Clothes became an afterthought, discarded piece by piece as they stumbled through the hallway. Every touch was a confession, every gasp a betrayal, every brush of skin against skin a promise they shouldn’t be making.

By the time Adrian lifted her against the wall, his mouth trailing fire down her neck, Eva’s last shred of resistance crumbled. She knew this was wrong. She knew tomorrow would bring guilt, maybe even regret. But in that moment, with his body pressed against hers and her heart racing louder than any machine in Daniel’s room, she didn’t care.

For the first time in weeks, she felt alive.