Just One Night Together (Flatiron Five Fitness #3) - Deborah Cooke Page 0,22
horribly familiar. He was with her, but out of reach. It distressed her, particularly as she would have welcomed his embrace in this moment. She reached out, her hand wavering in the empty air, and emitted a little cry of pain.
He had been her everything.
She missed him so much.
“Shhh,” a woman said softly, her shoes quiet on the tile floor. “What’s worried you so much today?” She came into view, a small curvy nurse with dark blonde hair, who checked the heart monitor with concern, then smiled at Natasha. “Are you in pain?”
Natasha hadn’t seen this nurse before, but she supposed they changed all the time. “No,” she admitted. “Just a bad dream.”
“It’s upset you,” the nurse replied, her manner easy and calm. “Would it help to tell me about it?”
Natasha fought against her sluggish tongue, wanting to speak clearly but knowing the drugs were impeding that. “You’ll think it’s silly.”
The nurse smiled. “Probably not. I have a lot of bad dreams myself.”
“You do?”
She nodded. “I think everybody does. It’s what we do when we’re worried.” Her gaze brightened and Natasha thought she had the most lovely blue eyes. “Are you worried about something in particular?”
Natasha knew the nurse expected her to be worried about her own health and prospects, but that wasn’t it. “My son. He’ll be alone when I die.”
The nurse nodded, considering this. Natasha liked that she didn’t argue or spout a well-intentioned lie. “But we’re all alone in a way, aren’t we?” Before Natasha could think of a reply, the nurse put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Is it your son who comes to give you a massage on Fridays?”
Natasha smiled and nodded. “He’s so good to me.”
“Do you expect him today?”
“No.” Natasha frowned. “It’s New Year’s Eve tonight, isn’t it?”
“It is. Are you expected at a party?”
Natasha smiled. “No. And he won’t be, either. He’ll be at work.”
“Am I right that you had another lumbar puncture?”
Natasha nodded. “They wanted to see if there was improvement.”
“You must be a bit sore,” the nurse suggested. Natasha nodded weary agreement. “I’m just learning to give massages. If you’d like and you think it might help, I could give you one.”
“That would be nice,” Natasha said. “It always eases the pain better than the drugs.”
“I always think it’s wise to be less reliant upon opiates,” the nurse said, sounding purposeful. “Let me help you roll to your stomach.”
“Are you sure you have time? The nurses are always so busy.”
“I’ll make time for you. Don’t concern yourself about it.”
“There’s oil in the drawer...”
“I’ll find it. Close your eyes and take a deep breath.”
The nurse’s hands landed on Natasha’s shoulders, warm and strong. Her hands were smaller than Damon’s and she didn’t have the same confidence, but the repetitive circles felt so very good. Natasha took a deep breath and exhaled, imagining that she was breathing out all the pain. The familiar scent of the oil helped put her in the place where the pain was less.
“Very good,” the nurse said softly, her hands easing to the base of Natasha’s spine. “How about a few more of those?”
Natasha did as she suggested, feeling the doubts and the aches slide out of her body. She was vaguely aware that the beep of the monitor slowed, but didn’t much care. There was only the smooth and gentle pressure of hands upon her skin and the stillness of her room. She exhaled the pain and the worry, and felt the nurse’s youthful strength flow into her.
A pretty young nurse, one who showed compassion for a patient and made time.
Natasha’s eyes opened for a moment. “It feels so good,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Oh, you’re welcome. You’re the one helping me.”
Natasha smiled. “Am I?”
“Of course. I’m just learning.” Their conversation was leisurely, with long pauses. Natasha thought it was lovely. “Is this better? Or is this?”
“The second one.”
The nurse worked that rhythm for a while, making Natasha feel like warm putty beneath her hands.
“This?” she asked finally. “Or this?”
“The first one.” Natasha sighed contentment. “You could do that all day.”
The nurse chuckled a little. “No, not really. My shift starts in half an hour. I can do it for a while, though.”
Natasha blinked. “You’re not working now?”
“Shh, don’t fret about it. I’m glad to do this.”
Natasha’s throat tightened at her kindness. “At least tell me your name.” She would do something to see the nurse compensated for her gesture. This talk of Natasha helping her was nonsense. There was expertise in her hands.