Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Eli's POV

Everything had been going smoothly enough. Ward rounds, patients, doctors scribbling on notepads, and the smell of antiseptic really getting to me.

“I need a break.” I sighed as I placed a pen in my pocket. My legs were tired, and all I wanted to do was drop into my office chair.

I smiled at a patient and greeted a nurse as I walked to my office. I was almost at the end of the hallway when I heard feet scrambling behind me.

My head whipped around instantly, trying to see what was going on. My eyes fell on his face and my breath caught in my throat. He was on the stretcher being pushed so quickly. His hands were flailing by the side and his face was drained of color. The doctors had so much panic written on their faces. I looked at him again. His lips were slightly parted and his eyes were struggling to stay open.

Every ounce of tiredness I felt before instantly disappeared.

“What happened? What is going on?” I screamed at the orderly who was running after the stretcher.

“He had a concussion.”

“Oh my God. This is bad.”

My board slipped through my fingers but I didn't bother for it.

“Hey Adam, can you hear me?” I grabbed the side of the gurney and ran after it. I reached for his hand and squeezed. “Adam, I need you to stay awake for me.”

His eyes fluttered open for a second and immediately shut down again. We burst through the theater doors. The light was blinding for a second and I winced at how bright it was.

My heart was racing and my head felt really light.

“Please don't let anything happen to him.” I begged no one in particular.

“Eli, you would have to excuse us right now.” One of the surgeons said, showing me to the door.

“Who is he to you?” Another doctor asked.

I opened my mouth, scrambling for words but words conveniently evaded me. I did not have any words to explain the relationship I had with him. Was he a friend Or was he the man that I touched myself to when no one was looking?

“He is my patient.” I blurted out weakly.

“Then you have to excuse us.”

I took one last at him before stumbling out of the theater. I pressed my back against the wall, desperate for something to ground me. I took in several deep breaths. It suddenly felt like my chest was full of fluid and I was gasping for air.

Why did I feel so strongly about Adam right now? A man that had bullied me in high school. A few weeks ago, I was hoping that he had died on the ice, and now I was here begging for his life to be saved. I pushed myself off the wall because I desperately needed to move but my legs felt strangely weak beneath me.

“Eli.”

I raised my head to see Doctor Broome watching me.

“Are you okay?”

I inhaled deeply and stuttered a response. “Yes, I am.”

“You shouldn't be here.”

I looked at the door but I couldn't see anything through the thick glass. I knew I shouldn't be here but the thought of leaving Adam here almost dying made something twist painfully within me.

“I just want to know what happened.”

He squeezed my shoulders. “You would know once there's anything worth knowing.”

I remembered his fingers being limp in mine and my throat tightened.

“He would be fine, right.”

Dr. Broome hesitated for half a second and my stomach dropped.

“Eli, do…”

“I am just going to return to my office.” I cut in quickly. Too quickly that it earned me a look from Broome.

I walked away despite my shaky legs. I could feel Dr. Broome's eyes on my back but I didn't give him the satisfaction of looking over my shoulders.

The thought of Adam haunted me. I forced myself to imagine him opening his eyes and making a joke. Like he always did with that smug look on his face. The thought made me chuckle. He was going to be fine. I inhaled deeply and leaned back on my chair. I had not prayed in years but right now I was muttering beneath my breath and begging the man in the sky to save Adam.

When I resumed my next shift, I did not head to my office as usual. Instead, I found myself standing outside Adam's door. I did not know what to do. Was I supposed to bring flowers? No, that would be weird.

I inhaled deeply. I had heard one of the nurses giggling about how strong he was and how quickly he had pulled out of the concussion.

I knocked on the door and I heard a groan. That was enough invitation for me. I pushed the door open and walked in.

Adam looked at me and I don't know if I had imagined it but his eyes lit up.

“Hey.” I said calmly.

He smiled. “You don't have to talk to me like I'm dying.”

Yes, there it was. That was the Adam that I knew, always had a joke ready to jump off his lips. I smiled and sat down on the chair beside him.

“I think I still have to rest, man. I don't have time for physiotherapy right now.” he said.

“You don't sound like someone who was trying to force his legs to work some days ago.” I said and we both laughed.

“I'm not here as your physiotherapist.” I said.

“Oh.” He muttered and our eyes locked. I looked away first and cleared my throat.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

He laughed.

“What? What's funny?” I asked.

“You care about me.” He said with a glint in his eyes. He stared at me like he was daring me to deny it.

“I heard you and I saw you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked slowly.

“When I was being taken to the theater.” He reached for his glass of water and I handed it to him. I watched as he poured the water down his throat and for I had never felt jealous of water before now. How good it must feel to be one with him.

He dropped the glass and licked his lips. A heat rose in my cheeks and I immediately pressed my thighs together. How could I be getting hot for a sick man.

“I wasn't dead, you know. I saw you screaming my name, and I felt your hand in mine.”

“It could have been anybody's hand.” I said, heat rising up my cheeks quickly.

I scratched the back of my head. How the hell did he know that I was the one?

“I know what your hand feels like.” He said like he could hear my thoughts.

I rolled my eyes. “You don't know what my hand feels like, please.”

He grinned. “Well if you say so. But as you can see, I am well. Thank you for checking up on me.”

“Yes, I better hurry before your teammates bust through those doors again.” I said, trying to make a joke myself.

“Why did you leave like that the other day?” He asked, softly.

I exhaled and looked out the window, avoiding his eyes completely. “The last time I was in a room of sweaty hockey players, I was boxed into a corner and bullied. And that memory still stings so freshly.So every time I see a group of you guys…” I said carefully. “I can't stand it.”

“I'm very sorry.”

I sniffed. “It's fine. It's just something I have to deal with on my own, maybe talk to my therapist.”

I said lightly despite the pressure in my chest.

“No, I am actually sorry. I should never have done those things that I did to you when we were in high school. I don't have an excuse, and I should not be making excuses. But you see, I was also such an unhappy child myself.”

I raised a brow. “You always seemed really happy. Yes, to mask how depressed and suicidal I was.”

I looked around. “I heard your parents were around.”

He groaned as he adjusted in the bed. “My mum went for a walk and to get breakfast.”

I grunted. “And your dad? I saw him on the hallway yesterday.”

I noticed how his jaws locked.

“It’s fine if you don't want to talk about him.” I said and got on my feet.

“That man irks my soul.” He said through clenched teeth.

I blinked.

“He pushes me too hard.” He exhaled, his voice breaking for the first time.