Kismet | ENGLOT

Chapter 45

Engfa's POV:

The buzz of activity in the hospital was endless—patients being wheeled into rooms, doctors and nurses hurrying from one task to another, the hum of life-saving machinery filling the halls. But despite the chaos, I felt as if I were floating on a cloud. Six hours into my shift, I was running on less sleep than usual, but the smile on my face refused to fade. My colleagues had noticed, teasing me for the way I hummed softly as I moved through my rounds, a visible spring in my step. But nothing could shake my mood.

How could it? My mind kept wandering back to last night, to Charlotte's touch, her whispered words, the way she had looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. And this morning... the intimacy of breakfast, the way her presence filled the empty corners of my heart—it was everything. I couldn't stop the warm feeling that bloomed in my chest every time I thought of her. Even a zombie outbreak couldn't have wiped the grin off my face.

In the break room, I took a seat on the worn couch and pulled out my phone, eager for a moment of reprieve. The screen lit up with messages from Charlotte, and my heart skipped a beat. Her words were filled with sweetness, warmth, and a touch of longing.

Charlotte: Baby? I miss you...

Charlotte: Have you eaten yet?

Charlotte: Please don't skip meals, okay? You're amazing at what you do, but don't overwork yourself. I can't wait to see you later.

I couldn't help but chuckle, feeling like a teenager all over again. My cheeks burned as I reread the messages, unable to stop myself from smiling like a lovesick fool. Without a second thought, I dialed her number.

She picked up after the first ring.

"Wow," I teased, unable to suppress the grin in my voice. "You missed me that much, huh? Answering on the first ring like you've been sitting by the phone all day."

"Don't flatter yourself, Waraha," Charlotte replied, but I could hear the smile in her voice. "I just happened to have my phone in my hand."

"Uh-huh," I said, leaning back against the couch. "So, not even a little?"

There was a pause, and then she laughed softly. "Maybe a little."

"'Maybe,' huh?" I said with mock suspicion. "I'm not convinced. Tell me the truth, Charlotte—have you been staring at your phone, waiting for me to call?"

"And if I was?" she shot back playfully. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Hmm, let's see," I mused, pretending to think. "I'd probably tease you mercilessly about it. But honestly? I'd feel pretty special knowing you couldn't wait to hear from me."

She laughed again, and the sound was like music to my ears. "Fine, you caught me," she admitted, her voice dropping into something softer, more vulnerable. "I've been thinking about you all day."

I closed my eyes, letting her words settle over me like a warm blanket. "I've been thinking about you too," I said quietly. "This shift feels endless, but hearing your voice makes it so much better."

"Good," she said, her tone teasing but affectionate. "Now, superstar, make sure you're taking care of yourself. I mean it—eat something, drink some water, and don't skip lunch."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, my tone light but sincere. "But only if you promise me something."

"What's that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Promise me you'll be waiting for me when I'm done," I said, my voice dipping lower, carrying a hint of the longing I felt.

She was quiet for a moment, and then she said, "You know I will. I can't wait to see you again."