Brushstrokes Of The Heart: A Love In Healing

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Ivan

˚₊‧ა 🥼🩺 ໒ ‧₊˚.

If you think getting close with your patients is a good idea, kill that thought. A patient in my hospital just died a few hours ago and my heart hurts. The sweetest little girl in the world, Rosie, died during heart surgery. She wasn't even my patient, her case wasn't even my specialty, and yet I still feel responsible. I remember the first day she came in. She was scared, clenching the shit out of her parent's hands. Her ginger hair was in two cute little pigtails and she had on these Spongebob overalls.

I was on my way to my office when she caught my eye. My heart broke in two when I saw her like that. I walked over to her and her parents, kneeling in front of her.

I flashed her a small smile before I spoke. "Hi, sweetheart. What's your name?"

She smiles at me. " Rosie."

I nod, extending my hand to her. She hesitates, understandably so. She doesn't know who I am. She looks up at her mom, a young woman with hair just as red as her daughters', and her mom nods. She turns her gaze towards me and she shakes my hand, letting out the cutest little laugh.

From that day on, I was always in her corner. I cheered her on when she needed it, I was there after every appointment, and I was everything her parents needed me to be. I know her parents are crushed. I walk out of my office, wiping the tears off my face, and when I look up, I see Rosie's mom. Fuck. I sigh before walking over to them, my legs practically eating up the space.

When I make it to her, Cheyanne, Rosie's mother, looks at me. Her lip quivers before I open my arms. She immediately crashes into my arms, soaking my jacket. I hold her close to me for a while before Ron, her husband, busts in the hospital. They make eye contact and I let her go. Cheyanne runs into her husband's arms and they cry together. I watch and my heart breaks even more.

Shittiest day ever.

"See that? Another family crying with you involved." A familiar voice calls out to me.

"You couldn't save me and you couldn't save Rosie either." As usual, the voice of my dead girlfriend taunts me.

I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to push those thoughts away. I know Rosie's death had nothing to do with me but the voice keeps pushing the idea. I need a fucking drink. After I console Rosie's parents and leave for the night, I head to my favorite nightclub: Indigo. I park my bike nearby and walk the rest of the way. The dark blue neon sign greets me and I crack a small smile before walking in. I do a quick once-over of the room before heading to the bar.

"Ivan!" My friend, Rudy calls out to me.

Rudy, the 5'8 lanky fluffy-haired bartender with glasses, and I have been friends forever. We grew up here and we've been there for each other. No matter what.

I smile, giving him my famous two-finger salute as I settle down on a stool. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, the usual?" He reaches down and grabs a bottle of Whiskey. He knows me so well.

I nod as he pours the brown liquid into the cup. "Would I be Ivan Santos if I didn't get some Whiskey in my system?"

He laughs, shaking his head, as he slides me the glass. After my hand grazes the glass, he starts wiping the counter. "You know... Paula's been asking about you. You should call her one of these days. I know you're lonely."