Hurts So Good (Neil Melendez (The Good Doctor) x OC)

I'm Still Standing...Better Than I Ever Did

And yet, here I am: ungracefully slipping, ready to meet the hospital floor. Except... That it doesn't happen.

"Maybe it'd be a better idea if you hold on to me, at least in front of your friend," he says with wide and preoccupied eyes, while I'm kinda laying in his arms. I notice one of his hands is on my back, the other one on my belly, almost protecting it, and I pray whoever is there to pray to that he doesn't feel anything of what is going on inside, otherwise it'll be hella awkward to explain.

"Oh, someone's active today," I don't quite register what he's saying, because I'm busy freaking out: just as I was hoping he wouldn't feel anything with his doctor's hands, I felt something real coming from my belly not just imaginary sensations. And then again. 

A kick.

"She's never done this before, it's the first time she kicks," I gesture for him to help me up again and I just stare at my pj shirt. "Do you think I can see her through the skin?"

"I felt it, so it is possible, yes. Uncommon at this week, but possible."

I keep staring at my shirt, wondering if it'd be inappropriate of me to just lift it up and expose my baby bump in front of him, but then I just go for it. It's just skin. And a baby. And he is a doctor, stop freaking out.

I lift the shirt up just a bit and start gently caressing the bump, not even five seconds later I see a little poke from within and I get tears in my eyes while at the same time I start laughing. 

"Ugh I might sound pathetic but she's beautiful and I'm so in love, I can't put it into words," a sobs escapes from my throat at the exact time Claire and Shaun make their appearance through the room door once again.

"Is everything alright?" asks Claire, followed by Shaun who has eyes only for my belly.

"Yeah," I say while drying my tears, "it's just... can you call Kelsey please? I need to share this with her," Claire calls for her and when Kelsey is in I tell hee, "My girl just kicked me, not even born yet and she's already a fighter."

"How I wish my mum would have said those things to me," says Kelsey with tears in her eyes, "I'm such a proud aunty already, the youngest, most proud and most beautiful aunty of all of San Jose, and no one is allowed to say otherwise, I won't hear of it," she finishes, raising a hand and stopping Shaun from saying whatever he was about to say. 

"You are. Thank you for being here," she runs to me, arms spread open and hugs me tight. 

"Can we go outside this room now?"

*

*

Kelsey has left and I'm once again into my room, I'm feeling more stable on my own now, but not for extended periods of time, that's why I asked if they could give me one of those very soft armchairs they have in the maternity ward, so that I could keep walking safely from bed to armchair and strengthen the muscles to the way they were before. 

It's around dinner time that I start thinking about an article I found online later today. It talked about a phenomenon called "transference": 

"WHAT IS TRANSFERENCE?"

"Transference is a psychology term used to describe a phenomenon in which an individual redirects and feelings, often unconsciously, from one person to another. This process may occur in therapy, when a person receiving treatment applies feelings toward—or expectations of—another person onto the therapist and then begins to interact with the therapist as if the therapist were the other individual." - https://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/psychpedia/transference

Basically, all the flutters, weird feelings, shyness and whatnot I've been experiencing these past weeks... may not be a real thing. I mean, they are real... it's just that I'm transferring those feelings from the ideal person in my life to... Neil Melendez, and the crazy thing is... that my ideal person doesn't exist, not anymore. 

Don't you even try thinking about Brennan. Don't. We're over him, remember how he made you feel? Like you were nothing? Like you didn't deserve anything, not love, not a family, not even the shop you created from scratch. He's toxic, and you know it. That's why you left. 

That's right. I am over him. The thing is... I know for a fact that he is not over me, and that's something that keeps me wide awake at nights from time to time. 

A knock on the door brings me back to the present.

"Can I come in?" it's Neil. 

"Why, yes, come in."

"What a day eh?" he says, letting himself fall on the stool.

"You know, the bed's more comfortable," he looks at me for a few seconds, then I realise that what I just said could be interpreted in various ways, because of... pragmatics and implicatures. I shrink my eyes, lift my arm over them and then proceed to dig my non-literal grave. 

"That's so NOT what I meant, I'm sorry, I'm very tired," I say matter-of-factly. 

He chuckles, closes his eyes and says, "I think we're both exhausted."

"Hard day?" again. Why not use "difficult", was it so..difficult?! Oh dear divinities strike me with the force of a thousand lightenings now. I just pretend I didn't overthink about those two words and let him answer. 

"Yeah, two surgeries in the morning and right after we left you this afternoon an emergency came in. Didn't make it."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Neil," a moment of silence passes between us, then he starts talking again.

"What were you thinking? Before I came in, I mean. I saw you deep in thoughts."

"Oh, just... stuff. Stuff that I shouldn't be thinking about before bed time, but what can you do, right?" I wait a few seconds and then add, "Shouldn't you go home? Go get some rest, you've had an awful day."

"It wasn't all bad," he says dragging the "a" in "all" for a second longer than normal, "There were quite a few moments of joy... and a scare as well," he gives me a scolding look that could melt iron and goes on, "in all honesty I've started visiting more often 'cause... I like being in your presence," he pauses for a few seconds, "... and your voice soothes my nerves before surgery."

I'm left speechless. I don't know what to say to that. How do you even physically react to something like that? I really went from "why the fuck would you even wear that" to "your voice soothes my nerves". 

I must have waited a tad too long to respond because suddenly Neil is on his feet and makes it for the door. 

"Neil, wait," he stops and puts on his coat, "I like it that you visit more often" he lowers his gaze, nods and when he lifts his head again, he's wearing one of the most beautiful, tired and hopeful smiles, "Goodnight Jade."

"Goodnight Neil," and then as he's getting out of the door I yell, "Next time you have surgery tell me! I'll sing a song for you!"

Laughing and never meeting my eyes he says, "Will do."