Love in the ER

CHAPTER 17

The morning sun was barely peeking through the clouds as Paris stood on the sidewalk outside her apartment, waiting for a cab to take her to the hospital. She hugged her bag to her side, her mind still on the conversation she had with her grandmother the night before. Could her abuela be right? Could Oliver have pulled away because of his own confusion, his own feelings?

Paris shook her head, trying to push the thought away. It didn't matter. She had resolved to focus on work, to stop letting these feelings distract her. But as she stood there, waiting, her heart still felt heavy with uncertainty.

Just then, the sound of a car approaching caught her attention. A sleek, posh car pulled up to the curb in front of her, its engine purring smoothly. Paris's heart stopped. She knew that car. She had seen it before, many times in the hospital parking lot. It was Oliver's.

Wait—what was Oliver doing here? In her neighborhood, this early in the morning?

Before she could fully process what was happening, the driver's side door opened, and Oliver stepped out, his tall frame silhouetted against the morning light. He was dressed casually, not in his usual hospital attire, and he looked almost... nervous. Her breath caught in her throat as their eyes met.

"Oliver?" Paris asked, her voice filled with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Oliver closed the car door and walked over to her, his expression serious but soft, as if he was carrying the weight of something important. He stood in front of her, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I need to talk to you," Oliver said, his voice low but steady.

Paris's heart raced, and she suddenly felt like the ground beneath her had shifted. "Talk to me? About what?"

Oliver took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers for a moment before he spoke again. "I've been trying to stay away from you, Paris. I thought it was the right thing to do, to keep things professional between us. But..." He paused, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "The truth is, the more I've tried to keep my distance, the harder it's been. I can't do it anymore."

Paris blinked, her heart pounding in her chest. Was this really happening?

Oliver continued, his voice filled with emotion now. "I like you, Paris. A lot. More than I should, probably. And I've tried to push those feelings down, to keep them at bay, but they keep coming back. You're all I think about. I can't get you out of my head."

Paris stood frozen, her breath caught in her throat. This couldn't be real. She had convinced herself that Oliver had been distant because he wasn't interested, because she had misread everything between them. But now... now he was standing here, confessing that he felt the same way she had been feeling all along.

"I know we work together," Oliver continued, his voice soft but determined, "and I didn't want to complicate things. But I can't keep pretending that what I feel for you isn't real. It's stronger than anything I've felt in a long time, and I don't want to hide it anymore."

Paris's heart raced, her mind spinning. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Before she could gather her thoughts, Oliver stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers.

"I like you so much, Paris," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "And I want to court you. I want to do this right. No more avoiding, no more confusion. I want to be with you, if you'll have me."

Paris felt her entire world tilt as his words sank in. Oliver wanted to court her. The man she had been thinking about, worrying over, trying so hard to move past—he had felt the same pull toward her this whole time.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Paris's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with a hundred different thoughts. This couldn't be real. But here he was, standing in front of her, telling her everything she had been too scared to admit to herself.

She finally found her voice, though it came out as a whisper. "You... you want to be with me?"

Oliver nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes. I've been fighting it for too long, and I can't anymore. I care about you, Paris. And I don't want to hide that."

Paris's breath hitched, her emotions swirling inside her like a storm. This was real. It was happening. Everything she had doubted, everything she had second-guessed—Oliver's feelings were real. He cared about her.

But before she could respond, the sound of a car horn broke through the moment. The cab she had been waiting for had arrived, the driver looking impatient as he waved toward her.

Paris glanced at the cab, then back at Oliver, her heart still racing. She didn't know what to say—her mind was spinning, her emotions overwhelming her. This was everything she had wanted... but now that it was happening, she felt paralyzed by the weight of it.

"I... I have to get to work," Paris said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. "But... we can talk later?"

Oliver smiled softly, understanding in his eyes. "Of course. We can talk whenever you're ready."

Paris nodded, her legs feeling shaky as she opened the door to the cab and slid inside. She glanced back at Oliver one last time before the cab pulled away, his figure growing smaller in the rearview mirror.

Her heart was still pounding, her mind still spinning, but there was one thing she knew for sure now—Oliver Salameda cared about her.

And maybe, just maybe, she was ready to stop running from how much she cared about him, too.