( BOOK COMPLETED )
Two years on, Maya St. Thomas and Ebén Cástro were living the love of their loves. Their wedding fast approaching and a bundle of baby joy on the way.
But, Reuben Smalls has come to foil this happy occasion. He's come for someth...
THE DIALS ON THE WALL CLOCK continued to tick and tick loudly — in sync with Ebén's tensing pulse. There was white noise and the wheels of gurneys carting off patients with nurses ran to the ground with stress. Eyes were flocking to a lonesome Ebén who seemed to beat himself up with deep regret.
The bags that were drawn underneath his criminally brown orbs was evidence that the man hadn't slept in hours. It wasn't that he didn't want sleep but that he couldn't especially when Maya lay between life and death. There, too, was nothing comfortable about the grey, wicker waiting room chairs when his mind was mudded with the acute possibility that Maya might have... di— He had to stop himself.
His pools of brown tensely flicked upwards to the red lettering that made the 6'3 man shudder under the sign — EMERGENCIES, his mind did wonder of what kind. He began to mentally recount the events and chastised himself for not shielding her from the verbal blows of her old flame.
Ebén was well aware of Maya's obvious dislike for her ex; the language she used to describe him was colourful and she was never one to mince her words. She despised him, that Ebén knew but found himself strapped with nothing to say until it was too late.
The comings and goings made the double-set of white, hospital doors constantly fly open; and Ebén found himself trying to fish for an update.
He was fed with remixes of the same line that the on-call doctor would let him know of an update once they had one. His repute didn't buy him the privilege of not having to wait either.
So, he impatiently waited.
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"I WONDER how long he's been... sat there?" nattered one nurse, whose scoffed down her protein bar to power her overworked body for a frantic shift on Eastleigh Memorial's bustling A&E ward.
She hovered over to the information desk with wooden ridges to sneak a better look at the dark-skinned man with his tuxedo still primp.
"A good couple of hours or so" chimed the blasé receptionist whose acrylic fingers continued to clack hard against the bulky keys, "I wasn't really keeping time so — "
"What's he here for, Evelyn?" said another, a female circle of gossip had now convened and were publicly checking out the apparent single man.
"Somethin' to do with his wife" shrugged Evelyn, his firm refusal to her request for a signature; a tiny one, had scorned the woman and made her silently bitter.
Out of the mouths of the female nurses; they all released a shared sigh of disappointment.
"Why are the good ones always married off?!" mewled Sheree, now onto her second protein bar of the night as she violently chewed. Her almond-brown eyes continued to spare him flirty glances but Ebén was so overcome to return the said look.
