Chapter 2

Now, standing in the hospital corridor, Ella saw Dr. Raymond waiting by the nurses’ station. He was reading a chart, but when he looked up, his eyes found hers instantly. A quiet smile touched his lips. “Good evening, Nurse Foster.”

“Good evening, Dr. Raymond.” She tried to sound professional, but her voice betrayed a tremor. The memory of his roses—and his note—warmed her from the inside.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I hope the flowers arrived safely. I wasn’t sure if you liked roses.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said, her cheeks flushing. “Thank you. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” He held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, then cleared his throat. “There’s a patient in Room Six. A boy, ten years old. He has a high fever and a rash. I’d like you to assist me.”

Ella nodded, grateful for the professional focus. “Of course.”

They walked together to the room, their footsteps synchronized. Inside, a small boy lay on the bed, his face flushed, his mother sitting beside him, wringing her hands. Dr. Raymond examined the boy with gentle hands, asking questions in a calm voice. Ella prepared a cool compress and helped lower the fever. They worked in silent harmony, exchanging glances and anticipating each other’s needs.

“It’s scarlet fever,” Dr. Raymond said after a thorough examination. “We’ll need to start treatment immediately. Nurse Foster, please prepare a dose of penicillin and a cold bath.”

Ella moved swiftly, her training taking over. As she worked, she felt Dr. Raymond’s presence like a steady anchor. He did not order her about; he asked, he guided, he trusted her judgment. It was a stark contrast to the way Thomas had treated her, always critical, always diminishing her efforts.

After the boy was settled and his fever began to drop, Dr. Raymond turned to the mother. “He will recover, but he needs rest and fluids. We’ll keep him overnight for observation.” The mother wept with relief, clasping his hands.

Ella watched him, seeing the compassion in his eyes. He was not just a skilled doctor; he was a good man. She felt something shift inside her, a quiet hope taking root.

Later, as they walked to the break room for a cup of tea, Dr. Raymond spoke softly. “You have a gift, Ella. You calm patients without saying a word. That is rare.”

She shook her head. “I only do what any nurse would.”

“No,” he said, his voice firm but kind. “You do more. I’ve seen it.”

They sat in the small room, the steam from their tea rising between them. For a moment, the silence was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. Then Dr. Raymond leaned forward. “Ella, I know we’ve only just met, but I feel a connection with you. I hope I’m not being presumptuous.”

Her heart beat faster. “No, Dr. Raymond. I mean, Evan. I feel it too.”

He smiled, and the warmth in his eyes made her feel seen. “Then let me ask you something. Your mother—Mrs. Gable mentioned she has been unwell. Is there anything I can do? I could visit, examine her. No charge.”

Ella’s throat tightened. Her mother had been suffering from a persistent cough, and they could barely afford the doctor’s fees. “I—I couldn’t impose.”

“It’s not an imposition,” he said gently. “I want to help. Please let me.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Very well. Tomorrow evening, if you’re free.”

“I’ll be there.” He looked at his watch. “Your shift is over. Let me walk you home.”

They left the hospital together, the night air cool and fresh. The streets were quiet, the gas lamps casting pools of golden light. As they walked, Ella told him about her mother’s struggles, her own dreams of becoming a nurse, the weight of their poverty. He listened without judgment, asking questions that showed he cared.

When they reached her flat, he stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ella. Rest well.”

She climbed the stairs with a lightness in her step, the echo of his voice in her ears. But as she opened the door, her mother called from the bedroom, her voice weak. “Ella, is that you?”

Ella rushed in. Her mother was pale, her breathing labored. “Mama, what’s wrong?”

“Just a spell,” her mother said, waving a hand. “It will pass.”

Ella stayed by her side, applying a cool cloth, praying she would be okay. She thought of Evan’s offer, and a sense of relief washed over her. Tomorrow, he would come. Tomorrow, things would be better.

But the next evening, when she arrived at the hospital before her shift, a different kind of storm awaited. A familiar figure stood in the lobby, his face set in a hard line. Thomas.

He saw her and strode forward, his voice low and sharp. “Ella. I need to talk to you.”

Her blood ran cold. She had not expected him to seek her out, not after the cruel things he had said. “Thomas, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“There is,” he insisted, grabbing her arm. “I made a mistake. I want you back.”

Before she could respond, a calm voice cut through the tension. “Is there a problem here?”

Dr. Evan Raymond stood a few feet away, his eyes on Thomas’s hand gripping Ella’s arm. His expression was composed, but there was a steel in his voice that made both of them turn.

Thomas released her, sneering. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Evan stepped forward, placing himself between them. “It concerns Nurse Foster, so it concerns me. She is clearly uncomfortable. I suggest you leave.”

Thomas’s face reddened, but he glanced at Evan’s confident stance and backed down. “This isn’t over, Ella.” He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the hall.

Ella’s hands were shaking. Evan turned to her, his voice softening. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, though her heart was pounding. “I—thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “But you should know, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not if I can help it.”

His words wrapped around her like a shield. But as she looked at the door where Thomas had disappeared, she knew this was only the beginning. The storm she had felt brewing was far from over—and it was about to break.

Evan took her hand, his touch gentle. “Come. Your mother is waiting. Let’s not keep her.”

Ella let him lead her away, but in the back of her mind, a question lingered: What would Thomas do next?