21. Markus

CHAPTER 21

Markus

Dark circles under my eyes weren’t exactly the kind of accessory I planned to bring to work this morning, but after the night I had, they seemed appropriate. An emergency with one of our residents had kept me here all night, and despite the chaos settling hours ago, I hadn’t been able to leave. Guilt, exhaustion, and a simmering frustration had kept me tethered.

The coffee in my mug had gone cold. I didn’t bother to reheat it. My head ached from the cheap fluorescent lighting overhead, and every passing second tightened the knot in my chest. I’d been dreading this moment.

When Nicky walked into the clinic, a spark in his eyes and a tentative but genuine smile playing on his lips, it felt like the universe was mocking me. He looked more like himself than I’d seen in days—shoulders no longer weighed down, steps light and purposeful—and for a fleeting moment, I resented how unfair life could be.

He spotted me right away. His eyes lit up, his whole face softening. Worse, he didn’t avoid me like he had been. Instead, he walked straight toward me, his steps quick, his expression open. Hopeful.

“Hey,” he started, his voice carrying a warmth I hadn’t earned. “Can we talk? Privately?”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. He didn’t know. Not yet.

“Of course.” My own voice sounded too soft, like I might break if I spoke any louder. “Let’s step into my office.”

Nicky nodded, falling into step beside me. He was practically humming with nervous energy, his fingers fidgeting at his sides. Whatever he had to say, it clearly mattered to him. And that made this so much worse.

Inside my office, I closed the door gently and leaned against it, buying myself an extra moment to gather my thoughts. I gestured for him to take a seat and sat on the edge of a chair, one foot tapping lightly against the floor, watching me with an expectant gaze.

“What’s going on?” His tone was cautious but kind, like he was trying to reassure me before I even spoke.

I rubbed a hand over my face, the scrape of stubble grounding me for a fleeting second. The words swirled in my head, jagged and heavy, refusing to settle. “Nicky… there’s something I need to tell you.”

His brow furrowed, confusion casting a shadow over his bright gaze. He didn’t speak, just waited, his posture tense, ready for anything—or so he thought.

I swallowed hard, the name I had to say catching in my throat. “Beverly…” The sound of it almost broke me. I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Last night, after the party, she had a stroke. We transferred her to Juniper Hollow Medical Center. She’s stable now, but…” I hesitated, the truth too raw to rush. “She’s still unconscious.”

It was like flipping a switch. The light in his eyes dimmed, his expression locking down so tightly it could’ve been made of stone. He didn’t flinch, didn’t gasp, didn’t even blink. The stillness in him was terrifying, unnatural.

“Okay,” he said at last, his voice an empty echo. “I need to check her chart, make sure her notes are in order.”

“Nicky.” I stepped closer, the firmness in my tone catching his attention. “You don’t have to do this right now.”

He didn’t look at me, his focus elsewhere, his mind racing. “I should’ve noticed,” he muttered. “When I checked on her yesterday, she looked tired, maybe off. But I didn’t think… I should’ve known.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, trembling under the strain.

“This isn’t your fault,” I said, lowering my voice, softening the edges. “Strokes don’t always come with warnings. If you missed something, then so did I. So did the nurses on duty last night. Are you blaming all of us?”

His head snapped up, his eyes flashing with a sharpness that stole my breath. “No,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just me.”

“Then why not me?” I pressed, taking another step closer, my own chest tightening with the weight of his guilt. “I’m her doctor. I’m the one responsible for her care. Shouldn’t I be the one carrying this?”

The fight in his gaze wavered, then hardened again. “She trusted me,” he said, his voice raw, breaking. “She trusted me to look after her, and I wasn’t here. I let her down.”

I crouched in front of him, ignoring the protest in my knees, and laid a hand lightly on his arm. “You didn’t let her down. You’ll be here for her when she needs you most. That’s what matters.”

His breath hitched, a sharp, ragged sound, and he turned his face away. But not before I caught the sheen of tears in his eyes.

“Let it out, Nicky,” I murmured, my voice low, steady. “You don’t have to hold it all in.”

His jaw tightened as though he was trying to swallow his pain. “No one’s ever…” He stopped, his words choking out on a broken breath. He swiped furiously at his face, as if scrubbing away tears could erase the ache in his chest. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” I said firmly, letting my hand rest where it was. “And that’s okay.”

His shoulders sagged, the last threads of his resolve unraveling. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against my shoulder. The weight of him settled there, and I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, resting my chin against his hair. His body trembled, silent sobs wracking him as the dam finally broke.

I held him tighter, wishing I could take on his pain, bear some of the burden he insisted on carrying alone. For now, all I could do was hold him and let him feel, let him know he wasn’t alone.

And for the first time, Nicky let me. He let himself break, and he let me catch him. For this moment, I was his strength, and I’d stay that way for as long as he needed.