Janie
She approaches with her tablet and a practiced ease, already pulling up his chart as she walks.Alright, Reggie—I'm just going to grab your vitals, see how you're doing. Blood pressure, temp, the usual dance.She sets the tablet down on the edge of his bed and reaches for the blood pressure cuff.Should only take a minute. You doing okay? Any pain, nausea, anything that's changed since the last time someone checked on you?
Reggie
I'm fine.Sticks out my arm for the blood pressure sleeveHow are you doing?
Janie
She wraps the cuff around his arm with the efficiency of someone who's done it ten thousand times, not yanking or fumbling—just settled and practiced.Oh, you know. Long shift, but it's Friday, so I'm not complaining.She hits the button and the cuff hisses to life, tightening.How long have you been in here now? Looks like you came in yesterday afternoon?
Reggie
Yes. I didn't know what was wrong with me. That bald doctor, nice guy, told me I have an infection. And I don't know what antibiotics I'm on but they're as strong as anything. I feel fine.
Janie
The cuff deflates with a soft hiss and she notes the reading on her tablet, nodding.Yeah, Dr. Patel—he's one of the good ones.She unwraps the cuff and sets it aside, then reaches for the thermometer.Okay, infection's not uncommon for the symptoms you came in with. The antibiotics they've got you on are solid; they don't mess around with the strong stuff unless they have to. And the fact that you're feeling fine? That's actually the best sign. Means the meds are doing their job. Most people in here are miserable. You're already bouncing back.
Reggie
Just before you came on shift, some drug addict attacked one of the nurses. Does that happen here often?
Janie
She stills for a moment, thermometer in hand, and lets out a long breath through her nose.Yeah. I heard about that.She glances down the hallway, then back to him.It happens more than any of us would like. This ward especially—it's close to the ER, we get a lot of people coming through who are... not in their best state of mind. Withdrawal, psychosis, pain, fear. The guy they brought in was aggressive, disoriented. Security got him sorted, and Marie's okay—shaken up, but okay. It's one of those things nobody really trains you for when you start nursing, you know? But we look out for each other. Protocol kicks in, people respond. Part of the job.
Reggie
I see it's a bit quiet here in the hallway ward. Is this even a ward?
Janie
She finishes taking his temperature, reads it off the thermometer, and jots it down on her tablet with a small nod of satisfaction.It's more of a holding area, honestly. Overflow for people like you—stable, not critical, just need to stay put while the meds do their thing or we figure out what's going on.She sets the thermometer down and leans against the edge of his bed, relaxed.The actual wards upstairs are where the sicker folks are, the ones who need more monitoring. Down here it's quieter by design. You're not supposed to be stressed out or surrounded by beeping machines every five seconds. Plus it's a Friday night—a lot of people get discharged on Fridays if they're well enough. And the ones who aren't... well, they're usually asleep by now. So yeah, it's going to feel pretty dead down here.
Reggie
If you need to work, I won't keep you. It's just nice to have someone to talk to.
Janie
She shifts her weight, settling more comfortably against the bed frame—not moving away.Oh, I'm not in a rush. Vitals are done, everything looks good, and honestly?She glances back down the hallway, then returns her attention to him with a slight smile.It's actually nice to have a minute to breathe. Most of the night it's go-go-go, so if you want to talk, I'm here. What's on your mind?
Reggie
Nothing specific.Glances at her fingers. Sees the tanline of a wedding ring but not a wedding ring.How'd a nice girl like you end up being an ER nurse fighting off criminals and drug dealers on the nightshift?
Janie
She glances down at her hand almost reflexively, notices where his gaze went, and doesn't try to hide it—just lets her fingers curl a little.Well, that's a story.She settles in a bit more, her tone shifting to something more genuine, less practiced.I went into nursing because I actually like helping people. Sounds corny, but it's true. Started in a regular med-surg ward, thought I'd be there forever, but then I did a rotation in the ER and... I don't know. The chaos kind of suited me. Every day's different, you never know what's coming through that door, and there's something honest about it—no time for pretense when someone's actively falling apart. The night shift? That's just what was available when my life needed it. And I'm used to it now. As for the nice girl thing—I think that's just what people say when they're being kind. I'm fine, Reggie. This job doesn't scare me. It just... takes something out of you sometimes.
Reggie
Doesn't your husband mind your being gone nights? That would bother most people, I think.
Janie
She goes quiet for a moment, and her fingers unconsciously trace the pale band of skin where her ring usually sits.He's... used to it.She says it lightly, but there's a weight underneath—the kind of thing you say when you've made peace with something that still bothers you.We've been married long enough that the schedule is just part of who we are now. He works days, I work nights. It's not ideal, but it's the way things are. People get used to a lot of things, I guess. You either figure out how to live with it or you don't.
Reggie
Sure, but it makes date night complicated.Laughs gently
Janie
She lets out a genuine laugh at that—the kind that comes from somewhere real, not the automatic chuckle of a tired nurse.Oh man, you're not wrong.She shakes her head, a rueful smile playing at the corner of her mouth.Date night. Yeah. That's been a running joke for... well, longer than I'd like to admit. We tried scheduling it, like it was a thing you could just block off on a calendar. You get to a point where you stop trying so hard and just accept that this is the marriage you have, not the one you thought you'd have when you were young and stupid.
Reggie
May I know your name? If you'd rather keep it super professional, I'm fine.
Janie
She pauses, and something genuine flickers across her face—a small moment of surprise, or maybe recognition.Janie.She extends her hand, and there's something deliberate about it, like she's choosing to be more than just the nurse in scrubs.And no, it's not keeping it professional. I mean, you're going to be here another day or two probably, and you're one of the few people down here I've actually had a real conversation with. Seems weird to pretend otherwise now.
Reggie
It's nice to meet you, Janie. Will you be my nurse tomorrow, too?
Janie
She holds his handshake for a beat longer than strictly professional, then releases it with a small smile.I'm on nights through the weekend, so yeah—you'll see me tomorrow night.She glances toward the hallway, then back to him, her expression settling into something warmer but careful.Fair warning though: tomorrow might be busier. Fridays quiet down, but Saturday picks up again. But I'll check on you.
Reggie
How many nights a week do you work?
Janie
She leans back slightly, considering the question with a thoughtful tilt of her head.Four nights a week, usually. Thursday through Sunday, with Monday off to recover and then a couple of days off mid-week to actually see daylight like a normal person.She lets out a dry laugh.It's not ideal for a marriage, like you said, but it's the trade-off. The pay's better on nights, and honestly, after all these years, I'm better at night work than day work. Your brain gets wired a certain way.
Reggie
I imagine you make the best of it. Tuesdays and Wednesdays must be fun. I imagine you and your guy make the best of those two days.
Janie
She shifts her weight, and for a moment something honest flickers across her face—a pause just a hair too long.Yeah, well. Tuesdays and Wednesdays are... they're mine, mostly.She glances down at her hands, turning the conversation slightly sideways.He works days, so by the time I'm up and caffeinated, he's either still at the office or he's home and tired. We do dinner sometimes. Watch something. It's nice, but it's not——it's not fireworks, you know? It's just... what we do. The routine.
Reggie
I just look at her. Say nothing. She squirms a bit.
The hallway ward holds still. Janie feels the weight of his gaze—not unkind, but present in a way that makes her aware of herself: the pale band on her finger, the pause she just made, the way she downplayed two whole days of her week with a shrug. She looks away first, reaching for her tablet as if there's something to check, though they both know the vitals are done. Her jaw tightens slightly. She sets the tablet back down.
Janie
She meets his eyes again, and there's a flicker of something—irritation, maybe, or vulnerability showing through the cracks.What?Her tone is lighter than her expression.You're looking at me like you know something.
Reggie
I don't know anything.
Janie
She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and her shoulders drop slightly—the defensive posture easing.Well. That's...She picks at a thread on her scrubs, not quite meeting his eyes.That's more perceptive than most people manage on a Friday night at 11 PM. I fit the life I have. The rest is just... Wanting things you don't get isn't unique, Reggie. It's pretty standard issue.
Reggie
May I ask you when's the last time he touched you? Feel free to suddenly have work to do if you want.
Janie
She goes very still. Her hand stills on the thread she was picking at, and for a moment the only sound is the soft hum of machines from other rooms down the hallway.That's...She exhales slowly through her nose, and when she looks up at him, there's something raw in her eyes—not anger, just the shock of being seen so clearly.That's a hell of a question to ask someone you just met. A while. Long enough that I stopped keeping track. Long enough that it stopped feeling like something we were supposed to be doing and started feeling like something we just... aren't. There. Now you know something.
Reggie
A while like a year, or a while like a month, or a while like three years?
Janie
She's quiet for a long moment, and her gaze drifts away from him toward the darkened hallway—a deliberate avoidance of eye contact.Three years.Her voice is steady, but there's a brittleness underneath it.Not quite three and a half, but close enough that the distinction doesn't matter anymore. He still sleeps in the bed next to me. We still say good morning. We still exist in the same house. But that... that stopped a long time ago.
Reggie
How old is he?
Janie
She brings her gaze back to him, and there's a weary resignation in the set of her shoulders.Fifty-two.She pauses, and something almost like defensiveness creeps into her voice.He's a good man, Reggie. He provides, he's stable, he doesn't cheat or drink or... he's just not interested anymore. And I'm not sure when I stopped being interesting to him, or if I ever was in that way, but somewhere along the line we both accepted it. That's what marriage becomes sometimes—an arrangement. A comfortable one, mostly.
Reggie
He sounds like a good man. And he has a girl a lot of guys would kill for. And he's decided, or maybe not even decided but he's ended up in a place where what he wants out of her doesn't involve something most of us still need at this age. That's complicated.
Janie
She sits with that for a moment, her jaw working slightly like she's testing the weight of his words.Yeah. That's... that's one way to put it.She looks down at her hands, turning them over as if seeing them for the first time.I used to think it was me. Like, if I lost ten pounds, or wore something nicer, or didn't smell like hospital and exhaustion all the time, maybe he'd... But you reach a certain point where you stop making excuses for him and you just accept that wanting someone isn't the same as being wanted. And you stop asking why and you just live with it. Or you don't. I'm still figuring that part out.
Most people don't see it that way, though. Most people just see a woman with a husband and assume everything's fine. Or they assume it's her fault somehow. You're being kind, and I appreciate that more than you probably know.
Reggie
Lost ten pounds? You're model-skinny. It's super hot. And for whatever it's worth, I think I'm qualified to tell you that it's not the hospital smell and you don't look exhausted to me. It's not you, Janie.
Janie
She blinks, and for a moment she just absorbs that—the directness of it, the fact that he said it without hedging or softening.I...She stops, swallows, and when she speaks again her voice is smaller.Thank you. You know how to say things, don't you? It's nice to hear. Even if I'm not sure I believe it yet. Even if believing it doesn't change anything about the situation.
An alarm screams somewhere down the ward—cardiac or respiratory, urgent enough that Janie's head snaps up. She's already moving, apologizing without words, and she's gone. The hallway closes behind her. Reggie drifts into sleep not long after, the antibiotics and exhaustion winning out. When he wakes Saturday evening to a new nurse checking vitals and asking the same questions Janie asked, he notices the difference immediately: competent, brisk, kind in the way of someone who has thirty other patients and a shift to manage.
Sunday Morning, Surrey Memorial Hospital
Janie
She sets her tablet down on the edge of his bed, not quite making eye contact yet.Alright, Reggie. Vitals check.She reaches for the blood pressure cuff, her movements the same smooth routine, but her voice carries an undertone—something held carefully in place.How'd last night go? I was here but was assigned to the other overflow ward. I'm just sneaking over for a minute. The duty nurse treat you okay?
Reggie
Yes, it was fine. Everyone here is really professional.
Janie
She wraps the cuff around his arm and starts it.Good. They're a solid crew.She watches the numbers settle, then releases the cuff and logs it.You didn't scare me off, you know. I was thinking about what you said all day Saturday.
Reggie
That's good because the doctor said I should be out of here later this morning. Do you think you might enjoy keeping in touch? I really enjoy talking with you.
Janie
She logs the temperature and sets the tablet aside. Then, after a small hesitation, she pulls a pen from her scrubs and writes something on a slip of paper.I'd like that.She holds out the paper, meeting his eyes.Getting out in the morning means the meds did their job. So here's my number. And I won't pretend I'd mind if you use it. So what's the first thing you'll do once they spring you—real food, or a decent night's sleep?
Reggie
I'll go home to my wife. She'll make something nice.
Janie
She lets out a short, surprised laugh, and for a second she just looks at him, new pieces clicking into place.You're married.She says it with a wry twist, not accusation, and sets the paper with her number down on the bed beside him—leaves it there.You might have mentioned that before I gave you my number. Though I suppose I didn't exactly hide my husband, so we're even. So, does your wife know you're out here making friends with the night nurse?
Reggie
Yes, she does. We're pretty liberal. And if you want your number back, you can have it. I just wanted you to know that I'm not trying to blow up your life, and telling you I'm also married seemed like a good way to do that.
Janie
She leaves the number where it is, studying him a beat longer than she means to.You might have opened with that.A small, dry laugh.But fair enough—I gave you my number before I had the full picture too. I'll let you keep it. For now. And I'm not easy to blow up. You'd have to work for it.
Reggie
Just be aware I intend to call it. Or text it. I'm guessing you get off shift at 9 am but you only get out of here by 10. Then you sleep until 4 or 5 pm. Your husband comes home at 6 and you ask about each other's day, then he does his thing and you do yours. And he's in bed by 10 and you're out the door by 11:30 to get to work. Am I close?
Janie
She lets out a low, startled laugh and shakes her head.That's unsettlingly close.She crosses her arms loosely, tilting her head.You left out the part where I mainline coffee at eleven. But yeah—that's the shape of it. So what does your Sunday night look like when you're not in a bed under my watch?
Reggie
I have a small software thing going. Bookkeeping stuff. It makes me a decent, middle class living. I have a small house in Whalley near Hawthorne Park. I could walk home if they let me, although it would take 35 minutes.
Janie
She leans against the bed, arms loose, a genuine flicker of interest in her expression.So you're a software guy with a bookkeeping thing—no wonder you read people like a spreadsheet.A small, teasing smile.And a 35-minute walk home? That's not bad. You'd be home before I'm out of these scrubs. So your wife—does she work, or is she the one making the nice dinner while you're out charming nurses?
Reggie
She works with me on the business. We are most definitely NOT tired of each other sexually. But she's bi and if I bring someone home once a year, she's cool with it. Ok, maybe cool isn't the right word. Maybe eager is better. Maybe "go find us a girl, Reggie" is more the shape of it.LaughsBut she's also cool with me just doing it alone as long as I come home to her after. What I'm really saying is, I'm not trying to wreck what you have. I know you love your home and your husband and I don't want coffee with me this coming Tuesday to spoil that. And yes, that's an invitation. And yes I remembered you're off that day and your guy works.
Janie
She stares at him for a long moment, then lets out a low, startled laugh—not mocking, just processing.You're married, your wife knows, and you're inviting me for coffee on my day off.She tilts her head, a wry smile playing.So is coffee actually coffee, or am I supposed to show up with a résumé for the once-a-year girl position?
Reggie
You're supposed to show up for coffee. I have a consent fetish, Janie. If you feel like this becoming more, it can become more. If you don't feel like it becoming more, I'd enjoy having coffee with you. If you change your mind in the middle, you go home and I don't bother you. Just be aware of one thing, if it becomes more once, twice, three times, everything's good. By the time it becomes more five times, I'd want you to at least meet Claire, my wife. I don't keep secrets from her.
Janie
She exhales, a short laugh, and sits down on the edge of the bed, making a deliberate choice to stay close.So it's not a once-a-year job interview. It's coffee, with an open door and a safety switch if I change my mind, and you don't keep secrets.She looks at him steadily, a wry, warm smile at the corner of her mouth.That's genuinely the most un-creepy pass a married man has ever made at me. I'll meet you Tuesday. Coffee. I'm not promising more—I can't, not until I know what this is for me. But I heard every word, Reggie. Especially the part about your wife. That matters more than you know.
Reggie
You two would like each other. Just one thing before I sleep. I don't know if I'm gay or what but I have been staring at your tiny breasts for two days and finding them incredibly sexy. Can I peek? Just for a second? No pressure.
Janie
She lets out a low, surprised laugh—not nervous, just endlessly charmed by this man—and glances down the empty hallway before looking back at him.You've been staring at my chest for two days and you wait until I'm on the clock to ask?She shakes her head, a warm smile breaking through.One second. If anyone walks by, I'm doing a skin check. There. Peek's over. Now you can sleep with image.
Reggie
What does it say about me that I prefer those to huge breasts?
Janie
She laughs, low and warm, and folds her arms across her chest, not hiding the small grin.That maybe you've been at this long enough to know what you actually like, not what you're supposed to like.She tilts her head.Huge ones are a lot of noise. These? You have to pay attention. And you've been paying attention, haven't you.
Reggie
If you can call unadulterated lust attention, yes. Janie, coffee at what time on Tuesday? Does 11 am work? And how about Tim Horton's in Surrey Central mall? I like to hide in plain sight. If someone sees us, we just ran into each other in the mall. Nothing to see here.
Janie
She laughs, genuinely, and tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear.Unadulterated lust. Most men would at least pretend it was about my mind.A dry smile.11 works. Tim Hortons at Surrey Central. And if someone sees us, we ran into each other in the mall—two adults having a coffee. Very suspicious. I'll be the one trying not to look like I tried too hard.
Reggie
I'll be the one trying to hide what's going on below his waist. I can't wait.
Janie
She bites down on a laugh and lets the flush reach her cheeks, not hiding it from him. Slowly she taps her tablet against her thigh, then meets his eyes with a wry, warm look.You are absolutely not hiding anything below your waist in a hospital gown, Reggie. I'd see it coming from the nurse's station.She steps closer for a second, her voice lower.But I'll pretend I didn't hear that, and Tuesday I'll pretend to be surprised when you tell me you've been thinking about it. Now—one serious question, because I'm still fitting all this together. Does Claire know about me yet, or am I a story you tell her after coffee?
Reggie
She doesn't know now, but she'd love to know. Do you want her at coffee? She'd love to meet you.
Janie
She lets out a soft, wry laugh and leans back against the edge of his bed.Tell her before Tuesday. If I walk into that coffee, I want Claire to know I exist first.A small, serious look under the warmth.But not at coffee—not the first one. Tuesday's about finding out what this is, between us. If it becomes something, I'd like to meet her. I'd like that a lot, actually.
Reggie
I'd like that, too. And I agree, just me on Tuesday, and just talk, and a true exit. But let's be clear about something. Claire is not insistent or pushy and she'll accept different shapes of things including shapes that don't directly include her. But I know her taste and you're her taste.
Janie
She lets out a low, warm laugh and shifts her weight against the bed, not hiding that she likes hearing it.So I'm Claire's taste.She says it with a wry little smile, then sobers slightly.That's good to know—and I mean that. No third chair, no agenda she's written for us. Just you and me seeing if coffee feels like something worth repeating. But tell her I said that's a hell of a compliment. It's been a long time since I was anybody's taste.
Reggie
You've gone from nobody really wanting you for a decade to two people wanting you, one of whom is a girl. Fun how life takes crazy turns.
Janie
She lets out a soft, low breath—not quite a laugh—and lets his words settle before answering.A decade.She meets his eyes, and there's something unguarded in her face.When you say it like that, it makes me realize how long I'd stopped expecting to be wanted. And now two people. You really don't miss anything, do you? Tuesday's going to be something. Just don't let Claire hear you called me nobody for a decade—she might take that personal.
Reggie
I never said you're nobody. I said nobody wanted you. That's very different. And it's already not true anymore. Janie, I need to sleep a bit before getting discharged but just think of one thing between now and Tuesday. If we end up being friends, most of the time, you'll be meeting me with Claire. It's really not even slightly suspicious. No eyebrows raised. Just something to think about.
Janie
She lets out a slow breath, not quite a laugh, and looks at him with a small, unguarded smile.You're right. That's a different thing. Nobody wanted me. And now... it's not true anymore.She tilts her head, voice softer.I'll think about it. Not just the coffee—the whole shape of it. You and Claire, friends, no eyebrows. It's a bigger thing than you probably meant. Sleep, Reggie. I'll see you Tuesday at eleven.
