-Coffee Cup
Nikki
“Hey there, Nikki!” Joanna said from her position behind her desk at the Pediatric ICU nursing station. “How have you been?”
I smiled. “I’m good. I just came up here to check up on that little boy. How’s he doing?”
She smiled sadly at me. “Lonely, I’m sure. But I’m short two nurses and we’re nearly at capacity.”
I brightened. “Do you mind if I sit with him for a while?”
“I think he’d like that,” she smiled.
Taking her words to heart, I followed the directions to his room, and walked in on a starkly white room with a crib in the middle of it.
Well, a hospital bed, crib.
It really wasn’t much of a crib.
It didn’t have that homey feeling like most cribs had.
This one was cold, metal, and bland.
And the tiny boy in the middle of it, hooked up to hundreds of tubes and wires, broke my heart.
I loved children.
I loved them with a passion and fierceness so powerful that I could barely see straight.
And I’d never have any of my own.
So I soaked it up by spending time with other people’s children.
And it looked like this little guy could use a friend.
Walking over to the crib, I took a seat at the chair, just to the side of it, and watched him.
His little head was wrapped in gaze from about the nose up, only one eye revealed.
His hands were taped to little boards so if he were to move, he wouldn’t pull out the IV lines they had in both hands.
His feet had monitors attached to them with a bright green wrap, and his body was veiled in a bright red hospital gown made for tiny humans such as him.
Picking up one of the books that was on the shelf across from my seat, I leaned back in my chair and started reading to him.
I must’ve gone through five or six books before I realized I wasn’t alone.
I looked up from my book I was reading to see Michael leaning against the doorframe, watching me.
“Hey,” I said, surveying him.
He looked better than he had before.
His white t-shirt stood out starkly against his tattooed skin.
I’d never seen his arms bare before, now that I thought about it.
“Hey,” he said carefully. “I was just bringing him some of his things…you know, so he wouldn’t be alone.”
“That was nice of you,” I whispered softly. “Come in.”
He did, albeit a little reluctantly.
When I noticed, I stood, offering him the chair.
“It’s about time I went anyway. I just wanted to come check on him, see how he was doing,” I whispered softly.
Michael, who’d been surveying the boy, looked up.
His beautiful eyes pierced me straight through every time he gave me the full force of them.
“You don’t have to go,” he said softly. “I’m not staying long. I have to go.”
Wasn’t he being nice?
You see, Michael and I had a long history.
Well, it was more like four months total of history, but that history was enough to last a lifetime.
I patted him on the forearm, a little bit of smartass filling my tone. “Well, then I guess you can walk me out.”
After placing a kiss to the tips of my fingertips, I pressed it against the boy’s hand, and looked at him longingly.
How could someone ever shoot their own child?
What kind of monster was capable of that?
Saying a silent prayer, I walked out of the room, very aware of Michael watching me the entire way.
I’d convinced myself he wasn’t going to follow me, but the moment I walked into the elevator, the doors closed, and he was there.
Ninja much?
“You like kids,” he muttered, settling himself in the corner of the elevator by the numbers.
A statement, not a question.
One he knew the answer to already, seeing as that’d been the thing that’d drawn our relationship to a sudden rocking halt.
***
18 months ago
Nervously, I looked into the mirror and inspected my attire.
Today would be my eighteenth date with Michael, and I felt that it was the one.
The one that would change everything.
Today would be the day that I gave myself to him.
Lock, stock, and barrel.
We’d only been dating for a little over four months, but it was enough.
I would be breaking my rule of twenty dates before I slept with him, but that was only because I knew.
I knew I was about to sleep with the man I intended to marry.
A knock sounded at the door, and I hurried through my room to my front entranceway, and threw open the door.
Michael was standing there, long sleeved button down shirt, as always, and a smile on his face.
“You look beautiful,” he breathed.
I smiled at him and opened my door.
“I made your favorite,” I told him as he walked through.
I’d found over the last four months that Michael had a love for Mexican food. A great love for it.
And he really liked home cooked Mexican food.
I’d gone through my mother’s entire cookbook making him food and, over time, we’d discovered that his favorite was one of the most simple.
Fajita’s, rice, and beans.
“Score!” Michael said as he made his way through the living room and headed straight towards the kitchen.
“The rice and beans are done. The only thing I’m waiting on is for you to grill the meat,” I informed him.
He turned around and grinned, pinning me to the spot with those baby blues of his.
“So we have time,” he murmured, “for me to do this?”
Then his body crowded mine against the counter, and I forgot how to breathe.
“Do what?” I asked breathlessly.
He chuckled, then his mouth was on mine.
He tasted like heaven, mint with a hint of the Dr. Pepper he’d just finished drinking.
My hands went underneath his shirt as I said, “I’m ready.”
He blinked, then abruptly circled his arms around my lower legs, and lifted me off my feet.
“Jesus,” he breathed, turning around and walking quickly to my bedroom.
He didn’t bother with the lights, only laid me down on the bed before following me down.
“Are you sure? Because I’m about to lose control here, and I don’t want you to regret anything. Regret me,” he whispered.
In answer, I started stripping his shirt from his body, and then started working on his pants.
He lifted up and resumed his own disrobing, allowing me to shimmy my dress up and over my head.
All my careful planning for the night that included my outfit, down to the straightness of my hair, was out the window once his naked body pressed against mine.
“I’m so sure I can’t even stand it,” I told him, widening my legs to allow his hips to slip between them.
He growled against my mouth, hand moving up to cup my breast.