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I never imagined I could feel this way about a stranger. A man who up until this moment, I thought may have been a figment of my imagination. I lost countless hours, days, months to the endless questions of who he was, where he was, and what was wrong with him.
And there he was in the flesh.
Dressed in blue scrubs and a white lab coat with a stethoscope wrapped around his collar. Emphasizing the three cross tattoos on his neck. My eyes were drawn to them, searching for the story I knew that caliber of ink held.
He was tall. Way taller than my five-feet-four frame. He’d tower over me, and that thought alone sent shivers coursing down my spine just thinking of his dominance. But with that emotion came shame.
“Camila, he’s married,” I whispered out loud, needing to remind myself.
But is he?
Where is she?
Where is his wife?
My captivated stare shifted toward his ring finger, and sure enough proudly on display was his wedding band. A sick effect settled in my stomach.
How could I have this intense response for my married employer?
I wasn’t this woman. I would NEVER be this woman. Although, it was so much more than that.
He was so much more than that.
As was everything I was enduring.
I didn’t understand any of it, looking at the man I’d never met in awe. Words couldn’t describe how handsome he was in person. His piercing blue eyes were as bright as crystal blue water. His salt-and-pepper beard appeared as if he hadn’t shaved in months. He appeared as exhausted as I felt, like he hadn’t slept in who knows how long. But that wasn’t what caught my attention the most, it was the sadness distorting his expression, the detachment in his gaze, the despair radiating all around him.
There was this certain vulnerability to him that I felt in the space between us. However, just as quick as it emerged, it was gone. Whatever it was had me questioning what I believed about him in the first place. The emotional attachment I felt for a man I had only just encountered was as overpowering and controlling as everything else had been up until this point. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, which only made me even more confused.
More cautious.
More curious about him.
In that place and time, all I craved was to see him smile. To catch a glimpse of the man I’d only stared at in photos. He seemed as though he was a walking paradox of contradictions. I was seeing the side of him that everyone saw, but there was something else under his allure.
All I knew was, I liked it.
I wanted more.
I needed more.
The uncomfortable silence hammered all around me, tearing into my insecurities that this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t be in this hospital. I shouldn’t be feeling anything for him other than what I was supposed to. Only adding to my plaguing emotions.
He was my employer, nothing else but that.
Right as I took a step in his direction, longing to hear his answers to my relentless questions, I heard him snap, “What the fuck is this?” in a sharp masculine tone, stopping my descent forward.
It was only then I realized there was a woman standing in front of him. Her stunned appearance mirrored mine.
“Why were these patients’ charts on my desk?”
“Dr. Pierce, I thought—”
“I don’t pay you to give me your thoughts, Miranda. I pay you to do your goddamn job. If filing these patient’s charts is too hard for you, you shouldn’t be working in my hospital.”
I jolted back as did she, never expecting him to say that.
What an asshole.
