Chapter 3— The diagnosis

It was Raining season and the rain never seize to stop. Eva who's always dedicated to her work who heartedly never comes in late. Even when her colleagues misses their shifts, she'll always cover up for them.

Treating people and seeing the sick healthy again is what keeps her life going. At least, the only two things that gives meaning to get life was Audrey and her work and ooh yh, her boyfriend, or maybe not always.

  Eva wiped her palms on her scrub top as she stepped into Room 5 to do her duty but this time reluctantly. 

Here, he was just pale skin against white sheets, a wrist tethered to an IV line, his lips cracked, the arrogance muted but not gone.

“Still alive,” he murmured, eyes half-open. “That’s promising.”

Eva’s tone stayed professional. “Your vitals are stable. Your doctor will be here any moment.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “The famous nurse who doesn’t smile. It's You again. Why are you always coming in, why can't you assigned another nurse to fill up for you since you don't like me?" He muttered. " I pray I don't die in your arms even though death is not far from me anymore. But come to think of it, maybe you like me but it's hard to admit so you keep coming every time to see me" he teased.

She ignored the remark and everything he was just saying, all she was doing was to check his vitals along side the monitor. He smelled faintly of antiseptic and expensive cologne—the kind that lingered even after a collapse on stage.

The door opened. Dr. Raymond Pierce entered, rainwater dripping from his coat, face carved with exhaustion and worry. He’d driven straight from his clinic when he heard Nathan’s name on the emergency report.

“nurse Eva right?,” he said, giving her a short nod. “Thank you for staying with him.”

“I’m on shift,” she replied. “Just doing my job sir.”

Nathan’s eyes flicked between them. “You look like someone’s about to break bad news, Doc. Should I brace for impact?”

Pierce motioned to Eva. “I’d like you to stay. You’ve been monitoring his vitals and you're the only one aware of his case.”

She hesitated, then folded her arms. “Of course.”

The doctor placed a folder on the table and sat down beside the bed. His voice was low, the tone doctors reserve for truths that cut.

“Nathan, we received your latest test results. The MRI confirms what we feared. The tumor has grown.”

A beat of silence. The beeping of the monitor filled the room.

Nathan smirked faintly. “How big are we talking? Golf ball? Baseball? Something dramatic?”

“Stage Four,” Pierce said. No softening. Just the clean slice of honesty.

Eva felt her chest tighten. She’d read the preliminary report earlier, but hearing it aloud twisted the words into something heavier.

Nathan exhaled a short, humorless laugh. “Stage Four. Top of the charts. Guess I’m still hitting number one. Booomm”

Pierce didn’t smile. “It’s spreading faster than expected. You need to make serious changes—no alcohol, no stimulants, no late nights. No frequent sex nathan You’ll require constant observation.”

“I told you,” Nathan said, looking away, “I’m not interested in dying on a hospital bed while everyone watches.”

Eva spoke quietly. “You collapsed on stage, Mr. Ward. If you keep ignoring treatment, that’s exactly what will happen.”

He met her eyes; his gray irises looked almost silver under the fluorescent lights. “You always this comforting, Nurse Eva?”

“I’m realistic.”

Pierce cleared his throat. “You’ll need a personal nurse. Someone who can monitor your medications, manage your symptoms, keep the press away.”

Nathan turned toward him, brow raised. “You’re saying I need a babysitter now? Oh wow. Some one call me my mama" he mocked.

“I’m saying you need someone you can trust. Someone who's capable of nursing you strictly and monitoring you. Someone who's only aware of your case Nathan.”

Nathan let the words hang, then glanced back at Eva. “And you’re recommending her.”

Pierce nodded. “i heard She’s competent, discrete, and already aware of your condition. That limits exposure.”

Eva’s heart skipped. “Wait... I didn’t agree to.......”

Nathan cut in. “How much does it pay?”

“Money isn’t the issue,” Pierce began, nodding his head side ways.

“For her, maybe it is,” Nathan said softly, eyes still on Eva. “Everyone’s got a price, right?”

She flushed but kept her voice steady. “I’m not for sale, Mr. Ward.”

He grinned faintly. “Didn’t say you were. Just that saving rock stars probably isn’t in your job description.”

Pierce pushed the folder toward her. “This is a confidentiality agreement and the care contract. The compensation is substantial.”

Eva scanned the figures and felt her breath hitch. It was more than three months’ pay. Her rent notice flashed in her mind, and her other bills.

Pierce’s tone softened. “You’re one of the few nurses I trust with something like this. You’d be saving his life, Eva.”

Nathan chuckled under his breath. “If she can put up with me long enough.”

She looked from the doctor to the patient, torn between duty and instinct. “Why me? You could hire a private team.”

Pierce answered, “Because he doesn’t want the world to know. Not yet.”

Nathan’s gaze was steady now, stripped of its usual arrogance. “I need someone who won’t sell the story to every gossip column in town. You don’t even like me, so that’s perfect.”

Eva closed the folder. “I’ll think about it.”

“You don’t have much time,” Pierce said gently. “Neither of you do.”

***

The doctor excused himself to make calls. The moment the door clicked shut, silence thickened the air.

Nathan watched her with half a smile. “So, Nurse Eva, are you in the business of charity or self-preservation?”

She met his eyes. “I’m in the business of staying alive.”

“Then we’re in the same business,” he murmured.

She sighed, gathering the charts. “You should rest.”

“Rest,” he repeated, as if tasting a foreign word. “You make it sound easy.”

“Most people find it easier than dying.”

He laughed quietly, then winced, pressing fingers to his temple. For a moment the mask slipped, pain stretched across his face.

“You need the morphine drip adjusted,” she said, stepping closer.

“Don’t fuss.”

“I’m doing my job.”

He looked up at her, voice suddenly quiet. “Then do it. Just… don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you feel sorry for me.”

Eva froze. “I don’t.”

“Good.” He leaned back, eyes closing. “Pity’s useless.”

For a while only the monitors spoke. The rain softened outside. Eva finished adjusting the drip and turned to leave.

His voice stopped her. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“Whether you’ll take the job.”

She hesitated, hand on the door. “You’ll have my answer in the morning.”

He smiled faintly, eyes still closed. “I already know it.”

***

Morning.

The corridors smelled of coffee and disinfectant. Eva found Dr. Pierce by the nurses’ station.

“You’re taking the contract,” he said before she spoke.

She nodded slowly. “I need the money. But this stays professional.”

“That’s all he needs,” the doctor replied, though his eyes held pity she didn’t want. “Keep him stable. Keep him alive as long as you can.”

Eva signed the papers. The ink felt heavier than it should have.

***

Back in Room 5, Nathan was awake, sunlight spilling over his face. He was scrolling through his phone, pretending to read messages.

When she entered, he looked up, that same half-smile playing on his lips. “So, Nurse Eva. Did I win the lottery?”

She placed the clipboard on the table. “I’ll be your nurse. Temporarily.”

His smile widened. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“It’s the paycheck, not you.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

She folded her arms. “There are rules. No smoking, no alcohol, no reckless behavior. You follow them, or I walk out.”

“Bossy,” he said. “I like that.”

“Not flirting,” she snapped. “Following medical protocol.”

He chuckled, then coughed, the sound sharp and sudden. Eva instinctively reached for the water glass, steadying his hand as he drank. For a second their fingers brushed. Heat prickled up her arm before she pulled away.

“See?” he said, voice hoarse. “You already care.”

She glared. “Don’t mistake professionalism for sympathy.”

He looked at her for a long moment, the teasing fading into something quieter. “You really don’t like me, do you?”

“I don’t know you,” she said. “And that’s fine with me.”

“Maybe,” he murmured, “that’s why I want you around.”

She turned to leave, her heart pounding harder than she wanted to admit. “Rest, Mr. Ward.”

As the door closed behind her, Nathan stared at the ceiling, the smirk slowly dying on hi

s lips. For the first time, silence didn’t feel like peace; it felt like a countdown.