Unveiled Secret

CHAPTER 5

Vivienne straightened the pile of patient files on the desk and tucked an errant strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. The last patient had just left Steven's office after a routine checkup, leaving a brief lull before the next appointment.

"Thank you for organising those records, Vivienne," Steven said, gathering his materials. "It's a tremendous help."

"Of course." She offered him a dimpled smile. Over the months working together, his praise and quiet confidence in her abilities had bolstered her own.

Steven regarded her with his piercing blue eyes. "You've grown tremendously as a nurse these past months. Your care and attentiveness to the patients is remarkable. I daresay you have the makings of a fine doctor yourself."

Vivienne felt her cheeks grow warm at the unexpected compliment. "You're too kind. I'm merely assisting you as best I can."

"Nonsense. You excel at making the patients feel heard and understood. Why, young Thomas only stopped crying when you stroked his hair so gently. And Mrs. Whitaker is always asking after you."

"They make it easy to feel empathy for their situations," Vivienne admitted. She thought back to the skinny, hollow-eyed boy who came in after falling ill again. And Mrs. Whitaker, half-blind, whose isolation carved lines in her wizened face until Vivienne started reading aloud to her.

Steven nodded. "Indeed. Many physicians lack that innate compassion. It's a rare gift."

Vivienne busied herself tidying the office, touched by his words. She never expected challenge and fulfilment tending to the poor and destitute when she first came to the hospital. Only a growing sense of purpose in easing their suffering.

"Well, I shall count myself fortunate you chose to apply your talents here." Steven consulted his pocket watch. "Let's review the next patient's background before she arrives, shall we?"

Vivienne fetched the file, warmed by the progress they'd made together. She could hardly remember the timid, uncertain girl who stepped through these doors months ago. Now she moved with assurance among the maze of hospital corridors, face alight with ready smiles for patients and nurses alike.

Yes, Steven had much to do with bolstering her self-belief. But the hospital itself - the bustling energy, the stringent demands, the emotional highs and lows - felt more like home than the stuffy old mansion. Here, her days held meaning.

As Vivienne discussed the next patient's symptoms, she caught Steven studying her with an unfamiliar expression.

"Forgive me, I don't mean to stare. I was just reflecting on how much you've grown." Steven cleared his throat, glancing aside. "You've accomplished more in a few months than most do in years. I feel very privileged to have you as my nurse."

The genuine pride and affection in his voice sent a rush of gratitude through her.

"I never could have done it without your teaching and support." Impulsively, she reached across the desk and squeezed his hand. Steven's eyes widened in surprise at the familiar gesture. Realising herself, Vivienne made to pull back - but Steven held her hand gently in return.

"It has been my sincere pleasure." His thumb traced small circles over her knuckles and Vivienne felt her pulse quicken.

Just then a knock interrupted the charged moment. Vivienne slid her hand free to collect herself while Steven rose to usher the next patient inside. As she performed the customary examination preparations, Vivienne's thoughts roamed back to the spark that arced between their joined hands.

The door creaked open, and an elderly man shuffled in, leaning heavily on a cane.

"Good morning, Mr. Fletcher," Steven greeted warmly, ushering him to a seat. " "Good morning, Doctor," Mr. Fletcher replied, his voice gravelly and worn like the leather of his shoes. His eyes narrowed as he took in Vivienne. "And who do we have here? Is that a fresh face I see?"