night to watch her sleep. And to remember. Like floodgates opening, every night he relived the joy of falling in love with her and the unbearable pain of losing her. He recalled with startling clarity their first meeting as she spilled coffee all over his lab coat. How their ensuing banter had turned to flirting, how their battle of wills had turned into a passionate desire to possess her. Eric had loved her fiercely and thought those feelings were returned - until the day his world turned upside down. Arriving home from a 72 hour shift to find her all traces of her gone and a note by their bed:
"E - I am sorry but this is for the best. I love you. Be well. Nat. "
That she boiled down four years, the best of Eric's life, to a three line goodbye note was an anguish that never left him. Despite his pleas to Sarah, even after learning about Jack, he was remained at a loss as to why she left or where she had gone.
The images on her x-rays confirmed to Eric that there was more of the story to be told but he was no longer sure he cared. She had left him and given up their child. Was there really an explanation available? He was afraid to hope there would be and scared to imagine what it was.
Unfolding his lanky frame from the guest chair he assessed her with a critical eye. Always slim, she had lost a good twenty pounds putting her on the verge on malnourished. Her skin, always luminescent, now showed the glow from the African sun but there was also lines from age, and reflecting on her x-rays, from stress. And yet, he still found her breathtaking.
The door creaked open, a sliver of light entering the room. Eric turned to see Nathalie's boyfriend standing in the entryway. The fact that she had moved on from him to have a relationship when he was barely able to able to manage two dates in a row rankled him.
"Dr. Smitherman, I don't think we were introduced the other day. I am Keith Wilson," he offered his hand. "Nathalie's boyfriend."
"Nice to meet you." Eric replied dryly, the lie tasting like cardboard in his mouth as he shook Eric's hand.
"I didn't think you'd have rounds this late," Keith indicated with a smile.
"Just checking in on her. We usually don't allow visiting hours this late."
Keith's eyes darted to Nathalie, eerily illuminated by the light from the hall. "I know," he said softly. "I just wanted...well, nights are hard for her."
Unspoken questions dying on Eric's lips, he nodded to the hallway as Keith followed him out.
"So, how is she?" the redhead asked eagerly. "I haven't seen you in a few days to ask."
Eric nodded and hesitated at telling Keith the reason - he was no longer her doctor.
"I know she insists that everything is okay, but I know she is not telling me everything." Keith continued.
Eric fought an internal battle between medical ethics and his desire to answer questions that would haunt him the rest of his days. "Has she not informed you of her medical condition, Mr. Wilson?"
Keith shook his head wearily. "Nathalie doesn't reveal much, Dr. Smitherman. But that doesn't mean she doesn't need me."
Eric fought the surge of sympathy that he felt for this man; a man he had spent countless hours cursing since he learned of his existence. Ruefully, he realized her ability to tell the truth had not improved with time.
"I believe her sister is listed as her next of kin."
Keith's jaw tightened reflexively. "Dr. Smitherman, up until three days ago, I wasn't aware that Nathalie had a sister."
"I am sure this has been difficult for you, but hospital policy forbids us from discussing a patient's condition with anyone but the listed next of kin." Eric offered.
Keith sank into the waiting room chair. "Look, I understand policy but you have to understand what it's like to find the woman you love on the bathroom floor and then to be told she has a mass in her brain. I just need to know if she is going to be okay."
As nausea swirled in Eric's stomach he nodded solemnly. "She should be fine." He said gruffly. "We expect she will be fine."
Nodding, Keith kept his eyes glued to the floor, studying the random patterns on the linoleum.
"I've...I've seen her x-rays and they indicate that Ms. Grant has suffered tremendous trauma. You also mentioned that she has trouble