Kim parked the crash cart at room three. Dropping a rainbow selection of tubes, gauze, and a vacutainer into her scrubs pocket, she stepped into the patient’s room.
The sage green curtain had been pushed up against the wall, leaving a full view of the form lying prone in the bed. In contrast to the stark white sheets, dark hair stuck out in every direction, as if he’d washed but didn’t have a comb. Stubble lined his jaw. The thick white cast covered his shin. A flutter radiated from the base of her belly, the corners of her lips inching up.
She crossed to the foot of the bed, accompanied by the squeak of her sneakers.
A long sigh came from the white sheets. “As soon as I realized the ambulance was taking me to St. Francis, I knew my days were numbered.”
Lifting the chart, she flipped through it. Her heart thudded against her rib cage. “Good to see you too.”
Ben opened his eyes to slits. “Something tells me you’re not here to draw my blood.”
“If it’s enough reason to see you squirm, I don’t need another.” She slid the chart back in the slot at the bed, turning just in time to smother her grin at his drawn-out groan. Entering in her username, she logged in to the hospital’s digital chart. “Did you lose blood? The doctor wants to check your hemoglobin.”
“I was pretty banged up in the accident. Got a unit during surgery I think.”
Kim squeezed a dollop of sanitizer into her palm and rubbed her hands together until they dried, then slapped on gloves. “You’re supposed to be in Indonesia. I saw you get on the plane two weeks ago.”
He looked away, his hair a bit too long at his ears. “You saw me go into the airport, but I’m stuck in Chicago until I get my visa renewed.”
“Huh.”
Extending his arm on the bed, she felt for the vein at the crook of his elbow. A nice protrusion rolled just under the surface of his skin.
“A case of typhoid can’t keep me away. Asia’s where I need to be.”
“You’re not going anywhere until this leg heals.” She slid a tourniquet from her pocket and fit it under his arm. Pulling it snug, she made a loose knot.
“You deserve someone better than me.”
She tore open an alcohol swab and cleansed the slight bulge. Uncapping the tip from the vacutainer, she positioned the needle. “I don’t want better. Hold still—you’ll feel a pinch.”
He drew in a sharp breath even before she pierced the skin. The maroon liquid seeped into the tube and she released the tourniquet.
Exhaling, his arm relaxed. “I didn’t think of you at all, you know. Not one day.”
“There’s a reason why you’re here.”
“Yeah. I was rear-ended on I-90.”
When the vacuum was exhausted, she removed the needle and inverted the tube gently. “Stop running, Ben. Even when you try to get away, you can’t.” Pressing gauze to the insert site, she applied a Band-Aid and then stepped to the computer console to discard the needle and label the tube.
“The nightmares are back.”
A chill swept down her spine. Her pen stilled and she blew out a steady breath until the shiver passed. Depositing the tube in a biohazard bag, she stuffed it in her pocket and turned to sit on the bed.
The cavity in her chest opened and her fingers tingled as Ben gathered the crumpled sheet in his fist. “In Indonesia, I kept busy. Praying with patients, sharing the gospel when I could—it helped.” A crosshatch formed at the bridge of his nose, his lips forming a straight line. “Made me forget.”
She covered his knuckles with her palm.
He turned his hand and curled his fingers around hers. His grip tightened. “I could have tried the antibody therapy and then tested for—”
“Don’t.” Hot moisture pressed on the back of her eyes and clawed at her throat. “No one could have saved him, so don’t go there.”
Deep-blue eyes met hers, red-rimmed and pronounced by crows-feet that hadn’t been there a year before. The faint beeps from the monitor became an echo of a three-year-old boy whose heart no longer beat.
“I didn’t feel a thing, by the way. Not even that pinch you warned me about. Is it odd that a medical doctor doesn’t like needles?”
She grinned. “That’s why I’m the phlebotomist and you’re not.”
“C’mere.”
His soft voice lifted to the surface a time in the recent past she used to live in. A time she used to love. A time she used to feel loved and could love in return.
She hammered down the rise of emotion. “I’m here.”
His gaze remained on her and the tick in his jaw spoke of desperation. Urgency. And possibly hope.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Ben, if you think—”
“I have a bruised rib, Kim.” The corner of his lips hiked up, his eyes flashing. “So if I’m gonna kiss you, you’ll have to come here.”
A tingling warmth curled around her torso, pent up desire coiling in her belly. She leaned over the bed to brush her lips against his.
“Oh no you don’t.” He reached up to grab her shoulders and pulled her back to him, surrounding her lips. She had to steady herself on the railing as his fingers found the nape of her neck and deepened the kiss.
When he released, his breath came in heavy pants against her cheek.
She laughed. “That must have hurt.”
“A little.” Sinking into the pillows, he squeezed his eyes shut. Air whistled through his clenched teeth.
But she’d seen him go through worse. If only they could have—
Coming to her feet on shaky legs, Kim adjusted the sheet around his good leg and then straightened, meeting his gaze for a second. Her breath caught at the realization his eyes were open. And on her.
His bare toes peeked out and Kim tore her gaze off of him to adjust the sheet, tucking the edges around his good leg. “Is the language hard to learn?”
“Very. The next time you drop by to poke me I’ll give you a lesson.”
Her heart gave a little flip as she switched off the overhead light and the room was bathed in a soft glow from the monitors. “You’re such a lazy student. I doubt you’ve gone beyond rudimentary.”
His eyes followed her as she crossed the room, a flicker of amusement warming his expression. “In that case, aku sayang kamu.”
Her backside bumped into the handle of the door, hard enough to make a mark at the height of her hip. His confession of love swirled around her heart, lancing and soothing at the same time.
“Is that so?” Her fingers found the handle and latched on, her palm clammy on the cool metal. “Because I love—”
The words came to her tongue easily, being the first phrase she had mastered when he’d left—
But there was a risk in commitment. A cost in being vulnerable.
She found herself drawing in extra air as her pulse ramped to a staccato. “I love hot sauce on my eggs too.”
She tried not to notice, but his chest rose and fell with every shallow breath he took. No longer to ward off the sharp pain, he was breathless for another reason—a thought that both thrilled and terrified her.
What if they got hurt, worse than they already had?
He had closed his eyes, his face relaxed. A scarred corner of her heart pulled away.
They’d entered their life together as individuals and ended up being wounded and weary before the battle begun. This time around, she wanted it to be different—apparently, so did he.
A tear trailed down her cheek, one of many that she had been suppressing for too long. “Aku—” Her throat thickened and she carefully pronounced the words she’d recited every day since he’d left. “Aku mencintaimu ratuku.”
Now that she’d said it, she wondered why she’d waited so long. Air filled her lungs. A new beat thrust against her sternum, threading strength through her veins.
“Kimberly.” Through her blurry vision, she could just make out the tilt of his head. His sigh settled over her shredded places. “My heart—you are mine too. Always have been.”
“I lift up my eyes to the mountains–where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
Psalm 121:1-2
Dear Reader,
This story was published in Spark Flash Fiction and I’m so glad they recognized it! I love the depths of these characters, the aching cry of their hearts.
Although this story doesn’t mention Christ, we can see how they need each other. And, more so, how desperately they need Someone greater than themselves to put the pieces back together.
Your sister in Christ,
Cheryl
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