Ephemeral

New Start

I handed the woman the red debit card that my father gave me and handed it to the cashier.

I knew that the hospital gift shop was incredibly overpriced...I couldn't even begin to imagine how a small vase filled with flowers would have ended up being forty dollars. It seemed a little pricy, but I also knew that Isabella would appreciate the gesture.

Even if she denied it, wholeheartedly.

"Would you like me to send it up to the patient's room?" The cashier offered from behind the counter.

"No thanks. I'll do it myself," I declined with a friendly smile.

The cashier nodded and handed me back the card and I slipped it into the back pocket of my jeans. I wasn't the type of woman to carry around a purse, and I didn't have much of anything to really hold own a wallet.

I grabbed the vase filled with flowers, securing it with both hands, and exited out of the gift shop. I managed to take one step before narrowly missing a tall man dressed in a white doctor's coat. I quickly took a step back -- thankful that my reflexes were sharper than most my age.

My eyes widened at the encounter as I tightened my grip on the flower vase in my hands.

I'm glad I didn't drop them.

I would have had to spend another forty dollars...

Looking up, I noticed a Spanish man that looked to be about ten years older than me or so.

"Sorry about that!" He apologized with a warm, sincere smile.

I waved it off with a light shrug and shook my head – "That's okay. I should have looked where I was going..."

He kept smiling at me for a few seconds, while I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "Are you visiting a patient?" The man asked, gesturing to the vase of flowers in my hands with one of his.

I kept staring into his eyes – I didn't know why they drew me in.

"Ah – y-yes..." I looked down at the ground in shame.

What the...hell was going on with me-?

I didn't know why I was scared of looking at the man directly in the eyes. I had looked at men many times in the eyes – sometimes I even watched their lives being drained from them. This man should have been no different, and yet my heart was beating fast inside of my chest...

And my hands were sweaty.

.

.

Why were my hands sweaty...?

"What room are they in?" He asked me, breaking the awkward silence that had built up between the two of us. I quickly looked up to look him the face. Those dark, big brown eyes of his were impossible to look away from. He gave me a smile and tilted his head lightly to the side, his smile widening as my heart skipped a few beats. "The patient that you are visiting?" He clarified.

I was taking too long to answer –

"Room four-two-eight..." I responded bashfully.

"Allow me to accompany you there," he spoke as he placed a hand to his chest. "It's the least I can do for nearly running you over earlier," the doctor spoke as he gave me another warm smile.

I could even see the way that his eyes had brightened – I didn't know that eyes could become lighter when talking to someone.

"I'm Doctor Rafael Ortiz," the man placed his hand off his chest and extended it out to me. "Chief of medicine here at Monroe's."