My Heart Skipped in the Recovery Room のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

“You’re glowing.” I looked up, confused, because I was just trying to find a snack. “What?” Ada, my coursemate, stood in front of me, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like she had already figured something out and was waiting for me to confirm it. “I said you’re glowing,” she repeated, slower this time, like she wanted me to hear it. “And I want to know why.” I rolled my eyes slightly and adjusted the items in my hand, trying to look busy. “I’m just trying to buy things, please.” “No,” she said, following me as I moved down the aisle. “You don’t look like someone who is just buying things. You look like someone who got a text.” I shook my head, smiling a little despite myself. “You’re overthinking.” She laughed, light, and knowingly. “No. That’s your job.” We walked side by side through the small store, picking random things and talking about nothing serious. The lecturer who never finishes on time, the rain that showed up out of nowhere, the te

My heart pounded as I stared at the screen. His message was right there, waiting. I hesitated a second longer than I needed to, then finally opened it. Him: Always. What’s up? I exhaled softly. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until my shoulders dropped. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure, like I could type the wrong thing and ruin whatever this was. I typed. Deleted. Typed again. Deleted. Then finally: Me: Nothing… I'm just checking. I stared at it and, before I could overthink, added quickly: Me: Did I disturb you? The reply came almost immediately. Him: Never. My heart skipped. I sat up slightly on the bed, pulling my legs closer, as if getting smaller would make my thoughts quieter. Him: Are you okay? I paused. Then typed slowly, trying to sound normal: Me: Yeah… I’m fine. Another pause. The typing bubble appeared, disappeared, appeared again. Then, before I could overthi

After that night, the next i was for the night shift. hospital and felt different that night. Or maybe it was just me. Everything was quieter. Softer. Like even the walls were holding something unspoken. I had just finished checking the last patient on my list when I stepped into the corridor and let out a slow breath. My shift wasn’t over yet, but I needed air. I walked slowly, steps light on the polished floor. My mind wasn’t fully on where I was going. It was on him. On everything he said last night. You’re different. Those words hadn’t left me. I turned the corner and stopped. He was there, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, like he’d been waiting. My heart jumped. “You’re here,” I said softly. He looked up and smiled. That calm, familiar smile “Yeah,” he said. “I was hoping I’d see you.” The way he said it sounded intentional. I walked closer, trying to stay calm even though my pulse picked up. “At this hour?” I asked l

I stood outside the hospital longer than I needed to. My shift had ended, but I wasn’t ready to go home. If I did, nothing would change, and I was tired of not knowing. I exhaled slowly and wrapped my arms around myself. My mind was loud again. What if you’re wrong? What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if you ruin everything? I closed my eyes for a moment. My heart spoke ,too. What if he does? What if this is real? What if you lose him by saying nothing? That last thought stayed. Lose him. I opened my eyes because I already knew the truth. Staying silent wouldn’t protect me; it would only leave me wondering, and I couldn’t do that anymore. Not after everything. I took out my phone and opened our chat. My fingers hovered over the screen. Then I typed. Me: Are you around? I stared at it, then sent it. My heart started racing. He replied quickly. Him: Yeah. I swallowed. Me: Can we talk? The pause was longer this time. My chest tightened. Him: Where

The ride back from that evening felt different in a quiet, almost unnoticeable way. It wasn’t awkward, and it wasn’t overly intense either. It was something in between calm and settled, but still carrying a soft awareness that things had changed between us. I leaned slightly against the seat, stealing small glances at him when I thought he wouldn’t notice, but of course, he did. “You’re quiet,” he said, his eyes still on the road. I smiled faintly. “You noticed.” He gave a small nod. “I always notice.” That simple response made my heart react again, not in a dramatic way, but in that steady, familiar rhythm I was beginning to recognize whenever he said something that felt intentional. “I’m just thinking,” I admitted. “About?” he asked. I hesitated for a second before answering honestly. “This… us.” He didn’t respond immediately, but I saw the slight shift in his expression, like he was processing the same thought. “Same,” he said after a moment. I turned slightly t