Love in the ER

CHAPTER 4

Later that afternoon, Oliver found himself walking past the nurse's station, scanning the area casually, though he knew exactly who he was looking for. As luck would have it, he spotted Paris at the far end, scribbling something down on a clipboard. She was deep in concentration, her brow furrowed slightly as she focused on her work.

Oliver hesitated for a moment. What am I even doing? he thought to himself. But before he could overthink it, his feet were already moving in her direction.

When he got closer, Paris glanced up and spotted him approaching. For a split second, her eyes widened, but she quickly composed herself, standing a little straighter.

"Paris," Oliver greeted, his voice warm. "Busy day?"

Paris nodded, trying to keep her cool. "Yeah, it's been... hectic. How about you? Done with all the meetings?"

Oliver chuckled. "Thankfully, yes. Though I'm not sure how much attention I actually paid."

Paris raised an eyebrow, curious. "Oh? Something more important on your mind?"

He grinned, the kind that made her heart skip a beat. "You could say that."

Paris felt her cheeks flush, but she held his gaze, determined not to let herself get flustered again. "Well, hopefully, nothing too serious."

Oliver leaned casually against the counter, his eyes never leaving hers. "No, nothing too serious. Just... someone I bumped into earlier."

Paris let out a nervous laugh, realizing where this conversation was headed. "I'm sure that's a memorable encounter for you, Dr. Salameda."

Oliver smiled at her teasing, enjoying the ease in their banter. "It definitely was. And I already told you—call me Oliver."

She smiled softly, feeling the tension between them slowly shift into something more comfortable. "Alright, Oliver."

Just as the moment seemed to deepen, they were interrupted by another nurse calling Paris to assist with a patient. She looked back at Oliver, apologetic. "I've got to go, duty calls."

He nodded, stepping back. "Of course. Don't let me keep you from saving lives."

As Paris hurried off, she couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder, catching Oliver watching her with the same thoughtful expression he'd had in the hallway earlier.

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Later that evening, Paris finally made her way home after a long day at the hospital. The small house she shared with her grandmother was humble but cozy, filled with the warmth of love and memories. The familiar scent of home instantly put her at ease, and she let out a tired sigh as she closed the door behind her.

"Paris, is that you?" her grandmother's voice called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, Grandma. I'm home!" Paris replied, kicking off her shoes by the door. She walked into the kitchen to find her grandmother, Abuela Lucia, standing by the stove, stirring a pot of soup. Even though she was getting older and her health had been declining, Abuela Lucia never let it stop her from taking care of her granddaughter in whatever small ways she could.

"How was your day, mija?" her grandmother asked, glancing over her shoulder with a warm smile. "Busy at the hospital?"

Paris pulled up a chair and sat down at the small kitchen table, resting her chin in her hand. "You could say that," she replied with a smile. "You wouldn't believe what happened."

Abuela Lucia's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Oh? What happened? Did something exciting happen at work?"

Paris hesitated for a moment, then let out a small laugh, knowing her grandmother loved a good story. "Well, you know that doctor everyone's been talking about? The owner's son who just came back from New York?"

"Ah, sí, sí," Abuela Lucia said, nodding. "The handsome one, they say, right?"

Paris groaned, blushing slightly. "Yes, that one. I sort of... accidentally ran into him. Like, literally."

Abuela Lucia turned away from the stove, her eyes wide with amusement. "You ran into him?"

Paris nodded, laughing at the memory now that the embarrassment had worn off. "Yeah, I wasn't paying attention, and I bumped right into him in the hallway."

Her grandmother chuckled, shaking her head as she stirred the pot again. "Ay, niña, you need to be more careful. But tell me, how was he? Is he as handsome as they say?"

Paris rolled her eyes playfully. "I guess he is. But honestly, he was really nice about it. He didn't act like some big-shot doctor. He even knew my name."

Abuela Lucia's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "He knew your name? Hm, interesting... Maybe he's interested in you."

Paris's eyes widened. "No! It's not like that, Grandma."

But her grandmother just smiled knowingly. "Well, you never know, mija. Life can surprise you when you least expect it."

Paris sighed, changing the subject as she stood up to help her grandmother with dinner. "How was your day, Grandma? You didn't overdo it, did you?"

Abuela Lucia waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, I'm fine. You know I can still manage a little cooking."

Paris gave her a skeptical look as she took over stirring the soup. "You've got to be careful, Grandma. Your health is more important than making dinner. I can help with the cooking after work."

Her grandmother gave her a soft smile, patting her on the back. "You already do so much for me, Paris. You're working hard at the hospital, taking care of everything. I can't ask for more."

Paris shook her head, a little knot of worry forming in her chest. "I don't mind, Grandma. I don't want you overexerting yourself. The last thing we need is you getting sick again."

Abuela Lucia sighed and leaned against the counter, her face softening with a touch of sadness. "You always worry about me too much, mija. You're young, full of life. You should be thinking about your future. You can't carry all of this on your shoulders."

"I have to," Paris replied gently, her voice firm but caring. "You're the only family I've got, Grandma. And you've done so much for me, raising me after everything... I can't let you take care of everything on your own."

Her grandmother's face softened further, and she reached out to touch Paris's cheek. "You're a good girl, Paris. But promise me you'll let yourself live a little too, hm? I see the way you work so hard, but don't forget to enjoy life."

Paris gave her a small, affectionate smile. "I will, Grandma. But right now, your health is my priority."

Abuela Lucia sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Well, speaking of that, I was thinking of going to the market tomorrow morning to pick up a few things."

Paris immediately shook her head. "No, no, you're not going anywhere. I can go to the market after my shift."

Her grandmother frowned, a little stubbornness creeping into her voice. "But I don't want you to have to do everything. I'm not helpless."

"I know you're not," Paris said softly. "But you're not in the best shape right now, and I don't want you risking anything. You've already been feeling weak lately."

Abuela Lucia sighed, clearly not liking the idea of being so reliant on her granddaughter, but she nodded in resignation. "Alright, alright. You win. But don't come home too late, you need your rest."

Paris smiled and kissed her grandmother's cheek. "Deal. I'll pick up what we need tomorrow."

As they continued chatting and preparing dinner together, Paris felt a sense of comfort being with her grandmother, but there was always that underlying worry gnawing at her. Balancing her internship, her studies, and taking care of Abuela Lucia was a lot, but Paris wouldn't have it any other way. Family came first.

Still, as they sat down to eat, a tiny, fleeting thought crossed her mind—Oliver's smile and the way he had looked at her earlier. She quickly brushed it aside, reminding herself that she had bigger things to worry about.