Love in the ER

CHAPTER 16

Late that night, Paris lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the faint glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains. Sleep had become elusive these past few days, her mind too full of thoughts she couldn't push away. She tossed and turned, replaying every interaction she'd had with Oliver, trying to make sense of how things had changed so suddenly.

Why had he pulled away? Had she misread everything? Her heart ached with uncertainty, and no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that it didn't matter, that she should just focus on her work, the knot of emotions in her chest wouldn't loosen. She sighed, frustrated, rolling onto her side and burying her face in the pillow.

A soft knock at her bedroom door pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Mija?" came the familiar, gentle voice of Abuela Lucia from the hallway. "Are you still awake?"

Paris sat up, quickly wiping away the frustrated tears she hadn't even realized had started to form. "Yes, abuela, I'm awake. You can come in."

Her grandmother stepped into the room, the soft light from the hallway casting a warm glow behind her. She walked slowly, as always, but with the graceful, careful steps Paris had grown up watching. Abuela Lucia gave her granddaughter a knowing look as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You haven't been yourself lately," Abuela Lucia said softly, her voice filled with concern. "I've noticed it for a while now. You're distracted, mija. What's on your mind?"

Paris sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest as she tried to find the right words. "It's nothing, Grandma. Just... work has been busy, that's all."

Abuela Lucia raised an eyebrow, her expression gently skeptical. "I've known you long enough to tell when something is bothering you. This isn't just about work, is it?"

Paris bit her lip, her heart heavy. She had always been able to talk to her grandmother about anything, but for some reason, this felt harder. Maybe because she didn't fully understand it herself. Maybe because talking about it would make the feelings real—and she wasn't sure she was ready for that.

"There's just... this situation," Paris finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "With someone at the hospital."

Her grandmother nodded slowly, encouraging her to continue. "A man?"

Paris sighed again, feeling the tightness in her chest grow. "Yeah. He's... I don't know. I thought maybe there was something between us. Something more. But lately, he's been distant, like he's trying to avoid me. And now, I just feel... confused. Like maybe I made it all up in my head."

Abuela Lucia listened quietly, her eyes filled with understanding as Paris spoke. After a long pause, she reached out, gently placing her hand over Paris's.

"I've always taught you to trust your instincts, mija," she said softly. "If you felt something between you and this man, then it was real. But sometimes, people pull away because they're scared, not because they don't feel the same."

Paris blinked, her eyes widening slightly. "You think that's why he's been distant? That he's... scared?"

Abuela Lucia smiled warmly. "I don't know the man, but I know you. You're strong and kind, and anyone who gets close to you would be lucky to have your heart. If he's pulling away, maybe he doesn't know how to handle those feelings yet."

Paris felt a surge of emotion well up inside her. Had Oliver been pulling away because he felt the same but didn't know how to deal with it? The thought hadn't even crossed her mind, but now, hearing her grandmother say it, it made sense. She had been so focused on her own confusion and hurt that she hadn't stopped to think about what he might be feeling.

"But what if I was wrong?" Paris whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "What if I've been imagining everything, and there's nothing between us?"

Abuela Lucia gently squeezed her hand, her voice steady and reassuring. "You weren't wrong, mija. But whether or not it becomes something more is up to both of you. If you truly care for him, you'll have to be brave and talk to him. Don't let fear keep you from finding out the truth."

Paris sat in silence, her mind racing. Talk to him? The thought scared her. What if he really wasn't interested? What if this was all just a misunderstanding? But at the same time, her grandmother's words resonated with her deeply. She couldn't keep going like this, trapped in her own uncertainty. Maybe it was time to stop avoiding her feelings—and face the truth, no matter what it was.

"I don't even know where to start," Paris murmured, shaking her head.

Abuela Lucia smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Paris's face. "You'll know when the time is right. Just trust your heart, mija. It will guide you."

Paris nodded, feeling a bit more grounded now. Her grandmother's presence had always had a way of calming her, helping her see things more clearly. Maybe it was time to stop doubting herself—and to stop assuming the worst.

"Thank you, abuela," Paris said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. "You always know what to say."

Abuela Lucia smiled warmly, leaning down to kiss Paris on the forehead. "I'm here whenever you need me. Now, try to get some sleep, okay?"

Paris smiled back. "I will."

As her grandmother stood and left the room, Paris lay back down, feeling a sense of calm settle over her for the first time in days. Her mind was still full of questions, but she no longer felt as lost in her confusion. Maybe it was time to face her feelings head-on.

And as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she found the courage to talk to Oliver—and whether he might be feeling just as scared as she was.