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write-it-good-imagines · 4 months

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Nothing More(M) - Four

~5k words; hi everyone! I am so happy to see this story is still growing wings after so much time, and that you still take some time to read it. Thank you for that! In exchange, I'll give you some crazy action. Enjoy~

I’ve learnt my lesson now… I shouldn’t have had sex with you because I knew, I knew that I’d fall in love with you. You are the person someone would be lucky to be in love with.

“So? What are you guys doing tonight? I’m sure there must be something!”

Leena’s cheerful demeanor put a smile on the barista’s face as well. Not intentionally trying, but she attracted everyone to herself like a magnet.

“Ah, I don’t know. We didn’t plan anything, I mean I am at my cousin’s club tonight,” said Samantha, dipping her head in a silent thank you for her double cappuccino. The little coffee spot by the hospital was just perfect to savor an early august morning, on a Friday that started slower and lazier than all other days.

Leena was not pleased with Samantha’s answer. “Really? Did not plan anything? You tell me, for once in forever, you open your soul up to a guy, after which you two talk non-stop, like a married couple, only to tell me you are taking a shift at the club the day he’s coming back?”

“Well, we don’t talk non-stop, I mean he’s got shows to do and I am taking consults—”

“Outrageous.” Concluded Leena and seated herself at a secluded table. Samantha followed soon enough. “It is exactly because you are taking consults again that I can’t comprehend why you’re running away from him. For God’s sake, you had a surgery.”

Samantha’s eyes fell to the milky foam of her coffee cup. “I had a surgery.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

The woman nodded her head. “Like it was the first time. Thrilling, exciting. But knowing exactly what to do.”

“Just allow yourself to love the guy.”

Samantha scoffed as if Leena had just told her she won the lottery. Highly unlikely, but a possibility even so. “Oh please, I don’t love Mark.”

Leena arched her eyebrows and took a sip of her espresso. “No shit you don’t.”

“No, really. You don’t love a guy who goes up on a stage every night to rip his shirt off and has thousands of girls lining up to get a piece.”

“And does he?” Leena inched closer to Samantha. “Give a piece? Do tell.”

“Well,” Samantha crossed her arms over her chest. ”Says he doesn’t.”

“Yeah, cause when you assumed he was out whoring he was sleeping.”

“He was sleeping. I think I know a thing of two about him sleeping.”

Leena urged the other to go on. “What else? Ripping his shirt off on the stage you mentioned.”

“Aren’t these kind of guys players? If I look up a photo of last night’s concert, I’ll bet my entire salary that I find one with those tattooed abs of his shoved in my face.” Samantha said, and Leena could not detect even an ounce of regret or sadness in her voice. More like intrigued jealousy.

“You asked him to be your fuck buddy,” with the hand holding the cap, Leena extended an index to point to the other. “Don’t call him a player. Because he was anything but.”

Just as Samantha was opening her mouth to protest, the screen of her phone lit up with a couple of messages. Her actions were stopped to scan the texts with her eyes and a smile tugged at her lips.

“Mhm,” Leena said, tilting her head towards the direction of the phone. “What did he say?”

“Ah, that he’s preparing to go to the airport.”

“The exact words?”

She knew she did not have any chance to escape Leena at that point. “Quote: good morning beautiful. I hope you have an amazing day today. We’re gathering our stuff to fly out. Can’t wait to see you again. End of quotation.”

“Such a player, no?” Leena mocked surprise then laughed at Samantha, who had nothing to contest about what her friend outlined so harshly. In the days following their late-night conversation when Mark was in New Delhi, they kept closely in touch, each texting one another when they found a moment of quiet in their busy schedules. Their discussions did not delve into much depth but were more like quick check-ups to strengthen the connection. Samantha would tell Mark about her days and her patients, and he would ask questions to clarify topics, or would give compliments to praise her work. Mark in turn would talk about the concerts, and the cities he’d fly to, and it took Samantha’s breath away every time he’d say he would take her with him to see what he saw.

Samantha grabbed the phone from the table surface to text Mark back. “What am I even doing, Leena?”

[To: Mark] good morning to you too, Mark 😊

[To: Mark] always aiming to put a smile on my face huh?

[To: Mark] safe travels!! I missed you too

[To: Mark] having a shift at the club tonight, meet me there? I’ll talk to my cousin to leave earlier

“What you are doing,” Leena started, twirling the cup around to play with the dark brown liquid “is not acknowledging your feelings. I can understand you’re still scarred because of Henry but Mark is not him. And I think he’ll help you heal.”

A short ding came from Samantha’s phone almost instantly.

[From: Mark] took you long enough to tell me you missed me

[From: Mark] thanks, flights back home are always tougher

[From: Mark] I’ll be there. there’s a cool skate rink nearby that’s open till late

[From: Mark] if you wanna go, ofc

A sigh escaped Samantha’s lips as her eyes scanned the mobile screen. “I know,” Samantha lifted the phone for Leena to see the texts and the other gave a small gesture, indicating she was on Mark’s side. “I guess I never allowed myself to get over Henry entirely. Not fair to Mark.”

“You said you’d talk to him, right? Besides, you’ve already fucked each other, it’s not like you don’t know intimacy.”

Both Leena and Samantha laughed. Then a lingering expression followed on Samantha’s features. “Mark said he couldn’t make love to me and leave the following day like the next guy.”

Leena’s eyes widened in clear surprise. “Mark said he’s making love to you.”

“It’s just sex, I know. That was an exaggeration.”

“Sam,” Leena adjusted the empty cup on the table and took Samantha’s hands into her own, and, albeit a dramatic gesture, she meant all the seriousness she could muster. “Talk to him. Tell him how you truly feel. He’s not seeing you as a simple fuck buddy anymore. Mark will prove this to you, most likely sooner rather than later.”

During the rest of the day, Samantha felt restless, restless with Leena’s words echoing in her mind, restless with Mark’s words flooding over, time after time. Samantha’s life was growing busier by the day, word of her returning to practice bringing more patients which required her knowledgeable care. She returned to observing surgeries, involving herself in helping whenever necessary, and taking upon other surgeries. Ultimately, she couldn’t make sense of why she allowed herself to be so consumed of Henry’s mistakes and treatment. Why she pulled away from the thing that made the most sense. It was so long ago that she couldn’t remember what prompted her to tug away. It should have been a sign to start anew.

And then life was growing busier by the day with Mark intoxicating her thoughts. A wicked game, chasing away feelings which only returned stronger, more vivid. Samantha did miss Mark, in his entirety. She missed the cozy scent of his Tom Ford cologne when he embraced her, she missed the coarse gentle tone of his voice when he made jokes, and she missed his passionate way of making love.

Samantha decided she would give Mark a chance, beyond just being her fuck buddy.

With that conviction in mind, Samantha left the hospital and rode straight home to prepare herself for the night, in both mental and physical terms. All her makeup products and brushes felt so unfamiliar she found herself wondering when the last time was when she took the time to pamper herself. She dressed herself with a burgundy low-shoulder crop top, with flowy butterfly long sleeves, and a plain black pair of jeans to hug her curves. Samantha gave her hair the freedom to bounce with the wind to complete her look. A quick text exchange with her cousin gave her the green light to leave the club as soon as Mark showed up.

At around 9:30, Samantha arrived at the club, shortly before it opened to the public. Changwook was there as well, an all hands on deck kind of night.

“Hey stranger,” Changwook lifted his head from the bar sink and was thrown off guard by Samantha’s looks. He had to clear his throat to regain his composure. “You’re beautiful.”

“Today only?” Samantha retorted and approached the bar counter, shoving a small backpack under it. She ran a strand of hair behind her ear and Changwook looked away.

“Guess I wasn’t the chosen one.” He stated and threw Samantha an apron. She looked at him with an apologetic look but couldn’t find anything right to say. “It’s cool, really, least I tried.”

“Changwook, it’s not your fault. I’m just…”

Changwook smiled and waved his hand in dismissal. “Not interested. Let’s get to business, we’re opening soon.”

As the night grew deeper, the club welcomed many eager customers to announce yet another successful night for Samantha’s cousin. From behind the bar counter, Samantha noticed a good number of celebrities intertwined in the crowd and her eyes couldn’t help but wander around in search for Mark. In the serving haste, her apron became drenched with water and alcohol, so she whispered to Changwook’s ear that she would go to the back room to get another. Mingling through the crowd, Samantha arrived quickly at the changing room and closed the door behind her. She opened her locker to grab a fresh apron and was just finishing untying the dirty one, when the door clicked open.

Samantha’s lips couldn’t contain an enthusiastic yet nervous smile. She straightened her body, fixing her hair quickly with a swift motion of the hand before turning to the direction of the sound.

She could never have been prepared for the stature towering in front of the closed door.

A white half-transparent shirt which wrapped a chiseled body, with a silver bracelet at the hand lingering in one of the fabric pockets of the trousers, in a stance Samantha knew like the back of her hand. His hair was sleeked back, only a rebel strand playing at his thick eyelashes.

“Henry.” Samantha breathed, the delight of her expression faltering all too soon. She felt her throat choking.

“It’s too bad that happiness on your face was not for me. And saddening you look so bitter instead.” Henry spoke, maintaining a velvety smile. “I’m happy to see you.”

Henry took a couple steps closer to Samantha. She kept her ground. “I’m not. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so rude.” With each step he took forward, Samantha took one back, until her back was pressed against the cold metal of the lockers. She was looking at him sharply in the eye. “It’s been almost two years, I missed you.”

Samantha pushed a hand to his chest to warn him not to get any closer. Henry complied, keeping at a distance that was still not comfortable for her. “Don’t get any closer. Don’t give me the speech on how you missed me after you humiliated me in front of the entire hospital. I want you to leave.”

It took every ounce of Samantha’s strength an effort to confront Henry at a time like that. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking people by surprise at the wrong moments. The first time in a long while Henry was not residing in the back of her head appeared to be the magic trick to summon him into her life again. When he still had a lot of control over her feelings and her reactions.

Henry drew in closer, his tall stature hovering over her. He kept carrying the same smile, trying to ease the tension between them. When he raised a hand to cup Samantha’s cheek, her body quivered and froze all at once.

“But I’ve heard so many great things about you, darling. Management position, and once again operating. When we see each other tomorrow morning at the hospital, I’d really like to know why you stopped taking surgeries.”

There was not enough time for Samantha to process Henry’s words because the door clicked open to interrupt the scene.

There he was, the reason for Samantha’s happiness, even more handsome with a brown short-sleeved shirt and straight grey trousers, which indicated he took the effort to care for his looks. In his hand, he held a breathtaking bouquet arrangement with delicate snapdragons, elegant red roses, fragrant dianthus, and vibrant alstroemeria. A bouquet of a Parisian romance.

There was Mark, with a smile that lit up Samantha’s whole world, now evaporated into oblivion. At a closer look, you could still distinguish a faint trace of a smile, probably in excitement to see you again. Samantha would never come to know whether that was true. The thing she would know and would remember was Mark’s sadness unskillfully hidden behind a bleak smile.

Mark was not supposed to see that. Had the Universe been kind for once, he should have never seen what he just had. Panic was outlined all over Samantha’s features as soon as her eyes locked with Mark’s desolated ones. With the way he carried himself, even more masculine and so sure of himself, Henry would never guess Mark took a hefty blow.

“Thanks for the chat.” He stated simply and threw a brief look in Henry’s direction before backing away from the room. The murmur of a phrase that became so intimate to her was now the reason the tense air of the room strangled her out.

Samantha slapped Henry’s hand away from her cheek, tears crippling at her eyes. Henry’s gaze grew curious. “So he was the one your happiness was for. Maybe I should thank him.”

“Leave me the fuck alone.” Grunted Samantha and unpeeled herself from the lockers to chase after Mark. She swam through the crowd to get to the bar counter and reached for her backpack in a hurried motion. Changwook’s attention was diverted to her, and he had to look twice when he noticed her tears in his peripheral vision.

“Samantha—”

Samantha lifted her hand in the air to keep the distance and she dashed away, reaching the outside of the club a tad too late. The only sighting of Mark was the bouquet of flowers left desolately on a nearby bench. Samantha stretched her arms to lift it from the bleak wood and a card fell to the ground. She picked it up and a tear fell on the black ink inside the ceramic envelope. Mark’s handwriting lived inside, just for her.

Would you like to be my date?

The fifth call ended to voicemail. Samantha paced back and forth in her living room, fingers covering her mouth while the other hand was clenched on the phone. The moon hung high in the sky yet the translucent gleam painting over the flowers altered them to cast a painful sadness throughout Samantha’s house. She sat down on the couch, an inhibited tiny stream of tears flowing down her cheek. Samantha paid no attention to Murphy whose paws were patting all over her legs, in an attempt to soothe her sorrow. Poor thing couldn’t know why she was so sad, and she didn’t allow him to ease her mind. Murphy settled on curling himself against her feet, waiting patiently for her to let him in.

After some time spent in silence, she chuckled. The whole situation was, in fact, hilarious. Samantha leaned her back onto the couch, eyes fixated on the nothingness of the ceiling. At one point, she thought about going to Mark’s house. The impediment was that she did not know where he lived. And another impediment would be that he made himself clear he would not be happy with her company.

It was funny how things decided to play out the way they did. The perfume of the fresh flowers made her wonder if Mark picked them by himself. Mark was supposed to find out everything, she was supposed to tell him about Henry being the reason she so adamantly pushed him away. Mark was not supposed to see Henry so close in her proximity, touching her so familiarly and playing all the right cards to have her frozen in place.

Now Mark was everywhere, a permanent resident in her mind, a permanent resident in her soul, he was everything Samantha wanted and everything that was sliding away.

The rest of the night passed at an agonizingly slow speed. Samantha spent much of it on the couch, brown orbs dashing back and forth between the flowers on the coffee table and the dark screen of her phone. She managed to doze off for a little while, still aware of her surroundings, and the only scene that replayed in her mind was the handsome image of Mark, with the spending smile on his lips and the ruffle in his hairstyle. It stopped there, and it then replayed from the top. It was like nothing else existed.

It was then she took the decision to go and visit him directly at his studio. At the crack of dawn, Samantha gently awoke Murphy from her feet and took the opportunity to grab some fresh air while walking him. By the time she realized she hadn’t taken off her make-up, she could only hope the mascara was not smeared too much. Feeling a tad more refreshed after the walk, Samantha fed her little man and reassured him, with loving snuggles and pats in his fur, that he was loved and appreciated. With a little bark he must have understood the message.

Samantha took a shower to cleanse off the events of the previous night and went to put on her office outfit for the day. Having early consultations and a surgery check-up scheduled for the second part of the day, she texted her attending that she would join them some time after the rounds. Then, she texted Leena.

[To: Leena] morning Leena, will be late today for rounds, don’t wait up

[From: Leena] oh? Mark kept you up all night?

[To: Leena] something happened last night and we couldn’t be with each other

[To: Leena] I’ll tell you when we meet

[From: Leena] ok, I’ll cover for you

[From: Leena] I’m still good to go on OBGYN.

Mark’s group’s studio was not too far away from the hospital, and Samantha parked her motorcycle outside of the tall building. The sudden visit was not planned ahead by Samantha who let her feelings take the lead. Not the one to usually lose composure, it rarely happened for her to give her heart the reins. Samantha tied her helmet to the bike and strengthened her white coat under the leather motorcycle jacket.

Inside the building, the modern lobby was guarded by three security guards, with subtle movements but ever so vigilant. They cocked their eyebrows as the clicks of her heels echoed against the black marble, her hospital badge dangling by the pocket.

Samantha approached the receptionist’s desk. “Hi, my name is Doctor Samantha Stoss, I am looking for Mark Tuan.”

“Hello. I am sorry but the group is not expecting any visitors today. Should I say you dropped by?”

At the nearby elevator, Samantha heard two other dancers discussing choreography for Mark’s group and that they’d get breakfast before joining them. Which meant that Mark was there, at that exact moment. Samantha’s heart picked up a beat in her chest.

“Yes, thank you, I’ll wait in the visitor’s area for when he’ll be available.”

Samantha was guided by security to the floor where the group was at, and was instructed to wait in the lobby area, where a couple of other people were sitting. All the other people were too busy to notice the moment she left the lobby, to walk towards the hall with the practice studios. Most of the rooms were still devoid of light, except for a singular one at the far end of the hall, where muffled laughter animated the atmosphere. The echo of her heeled steps was reverberating in her ears, enough to stifle the emotions in her chest.

The door to the studio was open and Samantha stopped in the frame.

“Mark.”

Collectively, all the sounds dissolved into thin air, and all the other members stopped dead in their various stretching positions. Mark was sitting on the floor as he tilted his head backwards to look at Samantha. It seemed that, initially, he couldn’t believe Samantha was standing in their doorframe.

“Oh, so you are Mark’s girlfriend? You are astonishing.” Bambam tweedled and Jackson had to muffle his mouth to prevent him from saying anything further, notwithstanding with his own lips parted in blatant shock. One had to give it to him, he was good at breaking a brutal silence. A couple of paces nearby, Samantha noticed Jinyoung smiling at her and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say his greeting smile was razor-sharp. All of a sudden, Samantha wondered how Mark spoke of her to the guys. If he did, at all.

“Excuse us a moment, guys.” Mark straightened his body from the floor, his eyes never leaving Samantha’s silhouette. Samantha stepped aside, allowing Mark to walk by and guide them both to an empty studio nearby. He closed the door behind them with a powerful motion, which tied a knot in Samantha’s stomach.

She was searching for any sentiment in Mark’s posture, be it anger, sadness, excitement, anything it could have been. She was met with stoicism instead.

“You didn’t return my calls.” Began Samantha. Mark simply nodded. “And you haven’t texted back, either.”

“Yeah, I didn’t. Figured you’d be busy.”

The harshness of his words made Samantha wince. “Don’t do this Mark.”

“I’m not doing anything. We’re leaving again day after tomorrow and…”

He stopped for a moment and it took her breath away. Mark’s mask was slowly starting to fade away. It was then Samantha noticed his eyes were tired. They had so few moments together and an entire night out of those was ruined, because of Henry. Because of her.

“…we’re rehearsing a new set. So, I really have just a moment. Why are you here?”

Samantha wanted to inch closer to him, to hug him, to get lost in his presence. She refrained from doing so. “I’m here because I missed you, Mark. Because last night was a huge misunderstanding and because you didn’t allow me to explain.”

“Explain?” Mark called out in an even voice, but his hand threw the hood of his sweatshirt to rake his hair in a precipitous movement. “You told me no one touched you since I left. That you don’t think anyone will. We were supposed to go out on a date, and I come pick you up to what?”

“Mark, listen to me—”

“Sam, he touched you like he knew you inside out, like he did that a thousand times before. “

“Mark, stop—”

“I don’t know you inside out.”

Samantha’s eyes narrowed to prevent another set of tears from forming behind her eyelids. Mark’s hands dropped to his sides as he took a deep, fatigued breath. “I know I’m just the sex but at least don’t lead me on if you have no other plans for us.”

“Mark, Henry is the more I needed to tell you about!”

Samantha raised her voice, and she didn’t realize a tear escaped away from its enclosure. At its sight, Mark’s features instantly soothed. “I took the flowers home Mark, thank you for not throwing them away. They were beautiful. Yes, I want to be your date, and yes, I am sad you are leaving so soon and I’m throwing us away. I want you to understand Henry has no place in my present, or in my future.”

“Henry,” Mark started, checking his smartwatch as it vibrated, “has a place in your present if he gets to touch you and halt your every move like he seemed to do last night. I gotta go. I’ll call.”

“Will you really?” Samantha exhaled, watching Mark’s back as he turned to walk away. He looked at her over his shoulder.

“Yes. I’ll call.”

The ride back to the hospital was agonizing, even if fast. There were seeds of doubt and uneasiness planted into her mind. Part of her wanted to believe that Mark would call, and he’d grant her the chance to set the record straight, but the better part of herself pushed her to believe he would pack his bags and get out of her life. Samantha barely had time to gather herself together, just as she got ambushed right at the entrance by both Jonathan and Leena. And they were far from being happy.

“Would you care to tell us why Henry is back and why he’s so boastfully claiming to having you back?”

Jonathan’s voice woke Samantha from her trance. Without any warning, the events of the previous night stretched farther than Mark looking handsome and ready to sweep her off her feet.

When we see each other tomorrow morning at the hospital, I’d really like to know why you stopped taking surgeries. Samantha felt like she was going to throw up.

“So, it was true.” she said quietly, arming herself with the realest impassivity she was able to forge.

“What do you mean it was true? Why is the bastard here?”

“Jonathan, I have no idea, okay?” Samantha turned to him, and Jonathan’s eyes noticed the anger blended with the heartache in her hazel irises. “He barged into the club last night, surprised me into the changing room and touched my cheek and it made my body tighten. Just as Mark opened the door and looked at me like I was the most disgusting whore on the planet. So, don’t fucking ask me.”

Leena reached to Samantha to envelop her in an embrace. “Sweetie, are you okay? Why didn’t you call me, either of us? Did you get any sleep?”

Samantha shook her head as she tightened the hug. “Not much, no. I went to see Mark this morning. Needless to say, it went badly.”

Jonathan was boiling with displeasure but if anyone saw him from outside, they’d never guess he was ire. Only by his glassy emerald eyes.

“What did he tell you, guys?”

“Certainly, didn’t speak much,” Jonathan concluded, and Leena had to slide her fingers over his knuckles to untighten his hand from the pressure. “He joined the rounds this morning, my neuro rounds. When chief asked for you, he said you’d had a rough night. Gosh, Sam, you should have called us because I was about to smash his head in, thinking he’d forced himself upon you.”

“I’m fine, Jonathan,” at least physically, she was. Mentally, Samantha was only just juggling the tumult. “Henry joined your rounds because there’s only one attending spot in neuro, we all knew.”

Samantha locked her eyes with Jonathan’s. “We’re not waging wars. I am going to walk in there, with my head held high, and I am going to confront him.”

“How can you be so calm? Why are you so calm? Henry’s got no place here, with none of us.”

In the distance, Samantha’s gaze fell upon Henry, absentmindedly flirting with a nurse, while his awareness was invested in her. If she allowed herself to give into her emotions, they would consume her entirely.

“That’s not for any of us to decide. It’s for you to decide if you’re better than him as attending.”

Jonathan couldn’t believe his ears. He was watching Samantha as she walked into the building, in a straight path to the devil. Within himself, he acknowledged she was not in the same spot Henry left her, two years ago. Jonathan was afraid that one wrong move would make her crumble.

“Good morning to you, my fair lady.” Henry shifted his position on the elbow leaning against the nurse’s station, to face Samantha with an inviting smirk. “Can I interest you with a coffee?”

“Doctor Carter,” Samantha acknowledged him, waiting for her charts to be delivered to the nurse’s station. Henry allowed his gaze to observe Samantha’s leather motorcycle jacket, over a tight crayon olive dress, and her doctor’s coat matching the white stilettos on her feet. Samantha was very aware of his charade. It was the same he used to win her from Jonathan, years ago. “No thank you, I’m drinking tea now.”

Henry chuckled, clasping his hands together. “Are you comfortable riding the bike on those gorgeous heels? Jimmy Choos?”

“Look, doctor Carter,” Samantha took the charts from the station, a silent smile directed to the nurse. At that point, not only did she realize she could not compare with Samantha, but she couldn’t keep up with Henry. “Let me set things straight. One, stop claiming me as if I’m some object. Two, I prefer not to intersect paths with you.”

“Oh? So why did you ditch lovely doctor Williams there to talk to me?”

At any given point, Samantha would have succumbed to Henry’s charms. But she took a good look at him, and he was not Mark, and he would never be. Henry had the element of surprise when his fingers brushed against her skin. Samantha was not completely sure her body would fight back should there be another intentional touch of his, but her mind was.

“You see, Henry,” Samantha looked up at him to counter the lingering smirk on his lips. Admittedly, Henry was surprised. “First time, it was on purpose. Second time, I want to set the record straight. Don’t touch me, ever again. I don’t know what your intentions are, but I want nothing to do with you.”

“Is that so?” Henry challenged and lowered his head to match Samantha’s gaze. She gulped, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. “Something tells me you’re not telling the truth.”

“Doctor Carter.” Jonathan’s even tone broke Henry’s stance. The latter fixed the collar of his coat.

“Doctor Williams! Let’s have a healthy competition, shall we? Rumor has it you’re racing for attending this year. And, of course,” he gestured to Samantha “you must have the support of most of the residents of this hospital.”

“What I can say to you is good luck. If you still have that nice camera, you can take a picture of me when I become attending.”

Henry laughed and waved a hand in a dismissive manner in the air, before walking away at his pager pinged. “Didn’t you choose neurosurgery just to try and steal Samantha from me? That’s a bit of wishful thinking on your side.”

Leena’s eyes widened at Henry’s claims, even more at Jonathan’s irritated lack of response. She then looked at Samantha who seemed familiar enough with the remark. Leena’s pager beeped soon after and followed in Henry’s steps, azure orbs lingering on Jonathan’s jaded ones. He was apologetic to her and the last time he saw Leena that day was bitter, with her disappointed expression.

Samantha’s phone started ringing in her pocket. She walked away towards her neo-natal ward and slid a hand to her pocket, answering before checking the number.

“Doctor Samantha Stoss, what can I help you with?”

“Didn’t know you recommended yourself like that when speaking, doctor Stoss.”

Samantha had to recompose herself, exhaling in relief. “Mark, hey. Sorry, morning was just crazy.”

Mark chuckled on the other line. “Doesn’t give you the chance to get bored. You can tell me all about your day tonight, if you wanna watch a movie at my place.”

Samantha giggled, allowing Mark to register her contentment. “Sounds… sounds very nice. Thank you, Mark.”

“Of course,” Mark’s voice adopted a sliver of a commanding tone, “I cannot guarantee we’re not going to have angsty sex before, or after. Or both.”

Samantha gasped. As much as Mark’s words provoked her womanhood, they also provoked anxiety. Anxiety that he’d end their hopes before they grew wings. “I’ll be there.”

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