Page 89 of Maybe in Another Life

“Henry? What is going on with you?”

He looks up.

“Henry?”

“I’m being switched to days on another floor. You’ll have a nice woman, Marlene, taking care of you for the remaining nights that you’re here.” He pulls the cuff off my arm and steps back from me.

“Oh,” I say. “OK.” I feel rejected, somehow. Rebuffed. “Can you still stop by just to say hi?”

“Hannah,” Henry says. His voice is now more somber, more serious. “I shouldn’t have been so... friendly with you. That is my fault. We can’t keep joking around and goofing off.”

“OK,” I say. “I get it.”

“Our relationship has to stay professional.”

“OK.”

“It’s nothing personal.” The phrase hangs there in the air.

I thought thiswaspersonal. Which I guess is the problem.

“I should go,” he says.

“Henry, c’mon.” I find myself getting emotional; I hear my voice cracking. I try desperately to get it under control. I know that letting him know how badly I want to see him again will only serve to push him further away. I know that. But sometimes you can’t help but show the things you feel. Sometimes, despite how hard you try to fight your feelings, they show up in the glassiness of your eyes, the downward turn of your lips, the shakiness of your voice, and the lump in your throat. “We’re friends,” I say.

He stops where he is. He walks toward me. The look on his face is gentle and compassionate. I don’t want gentle and compassionate. I am so goddamn sick of gentle and compassionate. “Hannah,” he says.

“Don’t,” I say. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

He looks at me and sighs.

“I probably misinterpreted everything,” I say finally.

“OK,” he says. And then he leaves. He actually leaves. He just turns on his heels and walks out the door.

I don’t fall asleep, even though I’m tired. It’s not that I can’t fall asleep. I think I can. But I keep hoping he will check on me.

At two a.m., a woman in pale blue scrubs comes in and introduces herself as Marlene. “I’ll be taking care of you at night from here on out,” she says. “I’m surprised you’re awake!”

“Yeah,” I say somberly. “Well, I slept all afternoon.”

She smiles kindly and leaves me be. I close my eyes and tell myself to go to sleep.

Henry’s not coming. There’s no reason to wait up.

You know what? I don’t think I misinterpreted a goddamn thing.

Ilikehim. I like being around him. I like being near him. I like the way he smells and the way he never shaves down to the skin. I like the way his voice is sort of rocky and deep. I like his passion for his job. I like how good he is at it. I just like him. The way you like people when you like them. How he makes me laugh when I least expect it. How my legs don’t hurt as much when he’s looking directly at me.

Or... I don’t know. Maybe that’s all nursing stuff. Maybe he makes everyone feel that way.

I turn off my side light and close my eyes.

Dr. Winters said earlier today that I might try to walk tomorrow.

I try to focus on that.

If I can survive being hit by a car, I will get over having a crush on my night nurse.

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