The Illusion of safety

“You’re really nice, doctor.”

I blink down at the little boy on the hospital bed. His cheeks are flushed from fever, but his eyes are bright and curious as he studies me like I’m something fascinating instead of something strange.

“Nice?” I repeat, smiling before I can stop myself. “I just gave you medicine.”

He shakes his head stubbornly. “No. Other doctors talk fast and don’t explain. You told me why it tastes bad.” He wrinkles his nose. “And you said it’ll help me get better faster. That’s smart.”

Something warm spreads in my chest. It’s small, fragile, and unfamiliar. Pride.

“Well,” I say softly, adjusting the blanket around him, “being smart means listening too. And you did that very well.”

His mother, standing beside the bed, gives me a grateful look. “Thank you, doctor. He’s been scared of hospitals since his last visit, but today he’s… calmer.”

I nod, suddenly unsure what to do with my hands. Praise is not something I know how to receive. At home, every word about me is an insult. Here, it feels like stepping into a different world.

“You’ll be fine,” I tell the boy. “Just keep taking your medicine, even when it tastes terrible.”

He grins. “I will. Because you said so.”

As I leave the room, I catch my reflection in the glass panel of the door. Same strange eyes. Same plain face my mother always mocks. But for a moment, I don’t feel ugly. I feel… capable.

Maybe I’m not as useless as they say.

“Aurelia.”

I turn at the familiar voice and feel my heart lift instantly. Adrian stands at the end of the corridor, one hand tucked casually into his pocket, his smile warm and effortless.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm even though I’m suddenly aware of how messy my hair must look after hours of work.

“Came to see my favorite doctor,” he says, stepping closer. “Is that illegal?”

I laugh quietly. “Very. I could report you.”

“Please don’t. I look terrible in prison uniforms.”

We fall into step together, walking slowly down the hallway. Around him, everything feels lighter, like the air itself is easier to breathe.

“Did you eat?” he asks, glancing at me.

I hesitate. “I was going to, after my rounds.”

He sighs dramatically. “You’re going to collapse one day, and I’ll have to carry you out of here. Do you know how embarrassing that will be for me?”

“You’re worried about embarrassment?”

“Of course. My reputation matters.”

I bump his arm lightly with mine. “You’re impossible.”

He smiles at me, and for a moment, I forget every cruel word my family threw at me that morning.

We stop near the nurses’ station. My heart starts beating faster, and before I can talk myself out of it, I speak.

“Adrian… can I ask you something?”

He raises a brow. “That sounds serious.”

I swallow. “I just… I was wondering when you’re going to introduce me to your parents.”

The words hang in the air between us. I watch his expression carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort.

He laughs lightly, shaking his head. “You’re thinking too much again.”

My chest tightens. “I’m not thinking too much. We’ve been together for a while now. I just thought… maybe it’s time.”

He reaches out and taps my forehead gently. “Paranoid Aurelia. Always imagining problems where there are none.”

“I’m not imagining anything,” I insist, though my voice is softer now. “I just want to know where we stand.”

“We stand right here,” he says, spreading his arms as if presenting himself. “Together. Isn’t that enough?”

I force a small smile, but the knot in my stomach remains.

“I’m planning something big for you,” he continues, lowering his voice like he’s sharing a secret. “Something special. You’ll see. You just need to trust me.”

Something in me relaxes, even though a small part still feels uneasy. I nod slowly. “Okay.”

He grins, clearly satisfied. “Good. Now stop worrying and go eat before you faint on a patient.”

He squeezes my hand briefly before letting go. “I’ll see you later.”

As he walks away, I watch his back until he disappears around the corner. The warmth he leaves behind fades quickly, replaced by the quiet hum of hospital machines and distant footsteps.

“You seem distracted today, Doctor Aurelia.”

My shoulders stiffen. I know that voice.

Dr. Blake Sterling stands a few steps away, his arms crossed, his expression as cold as ever.

“I’m not distracted,” I reply carefully. “I just finished seeing a patient.”

He studies me from head to toe, his gaze lingering longer than necessary. It makes my skin crawl.

“That boy seemed to like you,” he says slowly. “Children are easy to fool.”

My jaw tightens. “I wasn’t trying to fool him.”

“No,” Blake says, tilting his head. “You just talk too much. You compensate for your… appearance with unnecessary kindness.”

Heat rushes to my face. “My appearance has nothing to do with my medical skills.”

He chuckles softly. “Everything has to do with appearance. Especially for women.”

I clench my hands behind my back to stop them from shaking.

“You should be grateful you chose a profession where patients are too sick to care what you look like,” he continues. “If you worked in any other field, you wouldn’t last a week.”

His words hit harder than I want to admit. I force myself to keep my voice steady. “Is there something you needed, sir?”

“Yes,” he says, stepping closer. “To give you some advice. Men like Adrian don’t stay with girls like you.”

My breath catches. “That’s… not your concern.”

He smirks. “Isn’t it? I see you two talking in the corridors like teenagers. It’s almost amusing.”

Anger sparks in my chest, but I push it down. He is my superior. I cannot afford to lose this job.

“You’re mistaken,” I say quietly. “Adrian and I—”

“Adrian comes from a powerful family,” Blake cuts in. “Wealth. Influence. Expectations. And you…” His gaze flicks over my face again. “You are plain, awkward, and socially insignificant. Men like him marry women who elevate their status, not… this.”

My nails dig into my palms.

He continues, his voice almost conversational. “Your sister, on the other hand… now she is someone worth looking at. Beautiful. Elegant. She carries herself like she belongs among the elite. Unlike you.”

A familiar ache spreads through my chest. Even here, in the one place I thought was safe, Virelle’s shadow follows me.

“I don’t understand why you’re saying this,” I manage. “My personal life has nothing to do with my work.”

Blake shrugs. “I dislike watching people embarrass themselves. It reflects poorly on the hospital.”

I stare at him, my vision blurring slightly from the effort of holding back tears. A part of me wants to scream at him, to tell him he has no right to speak about me or my sister or Adrian.

But another part—the stronger part—knows I cannot.

He turns to leave, then pauses. “Just remember what I said. Men like Adrian never end up with girls like you. Reality always wins in the end.”

When he walks away, I stay where I am, my legs suddenly feeling weak.

I exhale slowly, forcing my breathing to steady.

He hates me. That has to be it. He’s always disliked me, always compared me to Virelle. This is just another way for him to hurt me.

It has nothing to do with Adrian. It can’t.

I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm the unease twisting inside me.

Adrian said he’s planning something big for me.

I choose to believe him.

Because if I don’t, then Blake’s words might be true. And that thought is more terrifying than any insult my family has ever thrown at me.

I straighten my shoulders and head back toward the wards. Patients are waiting, charts need to be filled, and work—at least—makes sense.

Still, as I walk down the corridor, Blake’s voice echoes in my head.

Men like Adrian never end up with girls like you.

I shake my head, trying to push the thought away.

He’s wrong.

He has to be.