Mag-log inThe first time I met him, he was lying in the recovery room after surgery, looking weak and lifeless. But strangely, my heart skipped in a way I hadn't felt in three years. I tried to act professional, but every time I stood beside him to check his vital signs or give his medications, my heart reacted in ways I couldn't explain. I couldn't even look him in the face without feeling shy. One small moment led to another until I finally gathered the courage to ask him for his number. But as his recovery improved and his discharge day approached, I couldn't stop asking myself one question: Would our story end at the hospital, or was this just the beginning?
view moreMy heart skipped the moment I saw him.
That was a problem because I was his nurse. My name is Philippa, and in May 2025, I was still a volunteer nurse at a small clinic in my town, where most people knew each other, and the front gate always creaked the same way. The morning was peaceful and calm as I walked into the clinic, with soft light on the porch and the street still quiet. Everywhere smelled of antiseptic clean and sharp mixed with soap and the faint scent from the sterilizer. My heart settled into a slow, steady rhythm, like my body already knew what the day would bring. I took a deep breath and prepared for my shift. Though I couldn’t help but wonder how the day would unfold, I quietly asked for success and for God to guide my steps not knowing that this day was going to awaken something in me I hadn’t felt for years. I had just taken over the shift ,the report finished, vitals reviewed, and pens tucked neatly into my pocket as I made my way down the corridor to check on my patients. The first ward was the recovery room. A low-lit space where time moved slowly, measured by the steady rhythm of drips and the soft beeping of monitors. As I pushed the door open and stepped inside, my eyes immediately found him. A young man lay on the bed utterly still. The blanket rested just below his ribs, his hands loose at his sides, his face calm in a way that didn’t belong to ordinary sleep. He had undergone surgery the previous night. And he looked… fragile. That was when it happened. My heart skipped. A strange warmth spread through my chest sudden, unfamiliar and deeply unsettling. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in three years. I dropped my gaze quickly, as if the floor might offer me an explanation my mind couldn’t form. Why was I reacting like this? To someone I had just met? I have always been the quiet one, the girl who rehearses a simple “hello” in her head and still ends up saying it too softly. Shyness has always been my default. But this… this was different. Meeting him didn’t calm me ,it made me more aware of myself. More nervous. Like hearing a familiar song from just the first two notes, even when you don’t remember where you heard it before. I tried to look at him again. Just once. Just for a second. But I couldn’t. Each time I told myself to be normal, to simply glance at him, my courage failed me. (Really weird.) My fingers trembled slightly as I picked up his chart, pretending to focus on the details in front of me. I wasn’t used to feeling this unsettled, especially not because of a stranger. And yet, beneath the nervousness, there was something else. Something lighter. Something quiet… almost comforting. As if some hidden part of me already trusted whatever this feeling was, even while the rest of me tried to run from it. “Good morning, Mr. Adille. I am Nurse P,” I said softly. “I’m the nurse on duty today… and I’ll be taking care of you.” I leaned in slightly to adjust his IV fluid, my fingers steadying the roller clamp as the drip found its rhythm again. For a moment, everything felt too close. Too real. He murmured something in response, low, rough, barely formed words slipping through sleep. But it was enough. A small, unexpected spark of happiness lit up inside me. Quick. Bright. Dangerous. My face warmed instantly, heat rushing to my cheeks as I looked away, suddenly very interested in adjusting the date label on his line. “Stay calm, Philippa,” I whispered to myself. I focused on my duties, counting the drip, checking the IV site, and smoothing the blanket carefully, anything to distract myself from the way my heart refused to settle. After a few minutes, the monitor steadied, and the quiet returned to the room. I stepped back, taking one last glance—brief, cautious before turning away. As I walked out of the recovery room, my shoes barely made a sound against the tiles. But my heart… My heart was loud. Too loud. And I knew, deep down, I wasn’t ready to stand that close to him again. Would I be able to face him… without my heart betraying me?We didn’t move immediately after that conversation.The silence between us had changed again lighter now, softer, no longer carrying the sharp edges from before. We stood there quietly for a few more seconds, neither of us rushing to leave, like we both understood something without needing to say it directly.Then he looked at me.“Are you done for the night?”I nodded slowly. “Almost.”“Good.”I raised a brow slightly. “That sounds suspicious.”A faint smile appeared on his face. “Relax.”“That’s usually what people say before doing something suspicious.”“You really don’t know how to stop overthinking, do you?”I sighed softly. “You’re never going to let that go.”“Probably not.”That earned a small laugh from me,the first genuine one since the argument and something in his expression softened slightly when he heard it.“Come with me for a bit,” he said.I looked at him carefully. “Where?”“You’ll see.”“That’s not an answer.”“It’s enough of one.”I shook my head lightly but foll
The silence didn’t feel the same anymore. It wasn’t peaceful like before. It wasn’t comfortable or familiar. It just… stayed. Lingering in the spaces where something used to exist so easily between us. The hospital felt the same. People moved the same way , conversations happened around me like they always did, but something in me was slightly off. Slightly distracted and slightly aware of something missing. Him. Not completely. He was still around. I saw him. We crossed paths. There were moments when our eyes met briefly before one of us looked away, like neither of us knew exactly how to step back into what we had without acknowledging what had happened. And maybe that was the problem. We hadn’t fixed it. We had just… paused it. I told myself it wasn’t a big deal. That it was a small argument. That things like that happened. But every time I saw him and didn’t speak, or when he passed by without stopping like he usually did, it felt bigger than I wanted it to be. I
It didn’t feel like it was going to turn into anything. That was the strange part. There was no warning, no obvious shift, nothing that clearly signaled that something was about to go wrong. It started like any other moment,quiet, normal, and easy in the way we had become used to. And maybe that was why it hit harder. We were walking side by side down the corridor, the hospital unusually calm for that hour. My shift had been long, but not exhausting enough to explain the weight I was already carrying. He had come by like he usually did, had no announcement, no need for one, and just fell into step beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’re quiet today,” he said after a while. “I’m always quiet,” I replied. “Not like this.” I glanced at him briefly. “You say that a lot.” “Because it’s true.” I let out a small breath, looking ahead again. “I’m fine.” There it was again. That same answer. And I knew he noticed. We walked a few more steps in silen
The calm didn’t last. It lingered at first, quietly, like something I could hold onto if I didn’t think too much about it. The night we spent under the stars stayed with me longer than I expected,not in a loud way, not in something I could easily explain, but in the way everything felt… settled. Too settled. And that was the problem. The next day, everything looked normal. I woke up, got ready, and went about my routine like nothing had changed. My movements were the same, my expressions controlled, my voice steady whenever I spoke to anyone. Even with him. “You look tired,” he said casually when he saw me. “I’m fine,” I replied. “You said that yesterday.” “And I meant it.” He gave me that look again. The one that lingered a second too long. Like he knew something I hadn’t said. But I didn’t let it show. I smiled slightly. Changed the subject. Moved on. From the outside, everything was exactly how it had been,easy,comfortable, and normal. But inside,nothing felt the












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