Love in the ER

CHAPTER 9

The cozy, familiar atmosphere of Café Azul provided a much-needed escape for Paris. After a whirlwind morning at the hospital, she was more than happy to sit down with Clara and relax over lunch. The warm sunlight filtered through the café's windows, casting a soft glow over the small tables and giving the entire place a peaceful, comforting vibe.

"I swear," Clara said, rubbing her temples, "if one more patient tries to tell me what's wrong with them based on their online diagnosis, I'm going to lose it."

Paris laughed, nodding in agreement. "I know exactly what you mean. I don't think I've had a moment to breathe today."

As their conversation continued, the bell above the café door chimed, signaling a new customer's arrival. Paris glanced up casually and nearly dropped her fork when she saw Dr. Mateo Rivas walk in. He hadn't been at the hospital in months—he'd been on leave, traveling and working on an international medical project. She hadn't expected him to be back so soon.

"Paris!" Mateo's voice was filled with warmth as he approached the table. His broad smile made her feel like she was standing under a spotlight. "It's great to see you again. I didn't know you'd be here."

Paris smiled politely, trying to keep things casual. "Mateo! I didn't know you were back. How was the trip?"

"It was amazing," Mateo replied, sitting down across from her and Clara without even asking. His energy was contagious, but Paris could already feel the familiar tension creeping in. Mateo had always had a bit of a thing for her, and now, after months away, he was back—and clearly picking up right where he left off.

Clara, ever the mischief-maker, shot Paris a knowing look and tried to stifle a grin as she sipped her coffee. Paris, on the other hand, was feeling the pressure of the situation. Mateo had always been kind and friendly, but she hadn't been interested in him like that. She just hoped this wouldn't turn into another awkward encounter.

"So," Mateo continued, leaning forward slightly, "we should catch up sometime. Maybe over dinner?"

Paris hesitated, glancing at Clara for a lifeline, but Clara was clearly enjoying the whole situation. "Uh, yeah, maybe," Paris said, trying to sound noncommittal. "It's been so busy at the hospital, I'm not sure I'll have much time."

Meanwhile, outside the café, Oliver was walking back toward the hospital after lunch with his friends. The afternoon sun was bright, casting long shadows on the sidewalk as he strolled leisurely, feeling lighter than he had in weeks after catching up with Diego and Lucas.

As he passed by Café Azul, his mind still on work and family expectations, something—or rather, someone—caught his eye. He slowed his pace, glancing through the large windows of the café, and his heart gave an uncomfortable lurch.

There, sitting by the window, was Paris.

But she wasn't alone. A man was sitting with her, leaning in, smiling at her as if they had known each other for years. Oliver's jaw tightened instinctively as he took in the scene. He had no idea who the guy was, but he couldn't help the sudden wave of jealousy that washed over him.

Who was he? The man was sitting far too close to Paris, and the way he looked at her—it was like he was trying to charm her, and worse, Paris didn't seem to mind.

Oliver stopped walking altogether, standing just outside the café window, his hands in his pockets as he tried to process what he was seeing. His stomach twisted with a strange sense of unease. Why did it bother him so much? He barely knew Paris, had only worked with her a few times, but the sight of her sitting with another man—a man who clearly seemed interested in her—made something stir deep inside him.

He didn't even know who this guy was. Was he a friend? A boyfriend? Oliver's mind raced with possibilities, and none of them made him feel any better. Had Paris been seeing someone this whole time? He felt foolish for even caring, but there it was—the jealousy, creeping up on him despite himself.

Oliver's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the man lean in closer, talking to Paris with an easy confidence. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it didn't matter. It was clear that this guy was comfortable around her, and from the looks of it, he was trying to impress her.

Back inside the café, Paris was doing her best to keep the conversation light and polite, but the tension was palpable. Mateo had always been charming, and his eagerness to spend time with her again hadn't diminished in the months he'd been away. But she wasn't interested. And she certainly wasn't looking to complicate things, especially not at work.

"So," Mateo said, his tone casual but hopeful, "how about we grab dinner later this week? I know this great spot that just opened up."

Before Paris could respond, Clara leaned in with a grin. "Paris has been super busy lately, Clara leaned in with a mischievous grin, clearly trying to bail Paris out of an awkward situation. "Paris has been super busy lately, Mateo. Not sure she has much free time these days."

Paris nodded, grateful for Clara's intervention. "Yeah, it's been non-stop at the hospital. Maybe some other time?"

Mateo, undeterred, smiled and shrugged. "Well, let me know when you're free. I'm sure we'll find a time to catch up. It doesn't have to be dinner—coffee works too."

Paris smiled politely, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease a bit. He wasn't giving up, but at least he wasn't pressing too hard. As Mateo continued to chat with her and Clara, Paris noticed the odd sense of being watched. She glanced out the café window—and froze.

Oliver was standing just outside, his gaze fixed on her.

For a moment, time seemed to slow. Why was he there? His face was unreadable, but she could see something in his eyes—a flicker of something intense, something she hadn't seen before. Was he... upset? She blinked in surprise, her heart skipping a beat as they locked eyes. There was a tension in his posture, the way his hands were stuffed in his pockets and his jaw was set just a little too tight.

When Matteo excused him self to go to the WC, Clara noticed Paris's sudden distraction and followed her gaze to the window. She smirked, nudging Paris under the table. "Well, well. Looks like someone is watching."

Paris quickly tore her gaze away from Oliver, her pulse quickening. "What? No, it's nothing. He's probably just passing by."

Clara gave her a knowing look, clearly enjoying the drama that was unfolding. "Oh, sure. Passing by and just happens to stop outside the café window to stare at you? Yeah, right."

Paris tried to play it off, though her heart was racing. "He's just... I don't know."