Approximately four years later
"..Happy birthday to you!"
I ducked my head as the chorus concluded. I couldn't contain the wide smile on my lips, or the laughter that rumbled in my stomach. My coworkers had decorated the back room with streamers, a few balloons, and a potluck assortment of foods. With a swift exhale, I extinguished the single candle held in place by the cupcake
Cheers erupted. I took the candle out, sticking the end in my mouth and cleaning the burgundy frosting off. The sweet, sugary treat greeted my grateful tastebuds, eliciting a moan. Everyone proceeded in grabbing their own cupcake and a plate stacked with food. I filled my own plate with mac and cheese, fruits, and veggies and sat besides Valerie and Angel.
I had met them on my first day at the hospital, and ever since then, we were inseparable. Angel was the brains, able to answer every question regarding any of the patients we were assigned to, and Valerie was the comedian, able to make a joke out of anything and lighten the mood. We were the perfect team of efficiency, almost like Charlie's Angels, except one of our "angels" was a guy, pun-intended, and we worked for New Eden Hospital, not Charlie.
"Hey birthday girl," Valerie exclaimed before shoving a spoonful of food into her mouth. "How's it feel being 27?"
"Like I could fall apart any second," I retorted, uncapping my water and taking a swift drink.
Angel rolled his eyes at me. "Okay, grandma. Try to calm down, you've got a couple more hours until nap time."
We all laughed and ate, easy conversation flowing between us. We talked about our plans for tonight, if Rory and her boyfriend were coming, and how things were going with Avery and I. As soon as we mentioned him, he burst through the door, a wide smile on his lips. His scrub cap was off, revealing his gelled, black hair. It was usually in a tapered fade, but his hair was getting too long, much like his facial hair—he needed a hair cut soon. When he saw us, his green eyes lit up, and he rushed over, his grey scrubs making the slightest noice.
I had met him when I was making my rounds on one of the first days. Being one of the newest RNs at the hospital, I didn't know exactly where everything was yet, and when I rounded a random corner while pushing a cart, I ran into him. The cart had spilled over, and I apologized incessantly. He just laughed, helped me pick everything up, and went on his way. It took another week before I saw him again, entering the hospital while I was leaving. He asked me out, standing in the middle of the crosswalk, and I said no. Avery promised he wouldn't give up, but if I said no after three times, he would back off. At my third denial, a month in which I had known of his existence, he did as he promised, but whenever we saw each other he remained kind.
Then I asked him out, wanting to get to know him and feeling bad that I rejected him three times. He said no, and as soon as I resigned myself to walk away, he reached out for me and laughed, accepting my offer. We went on a date every other week or so, texting when we could and meeting in random places in the hallways for the first four months. After that, we got a little better at communicating our schedules and seeing each other. I was grateful that he was an anesthesiologist, not knowing how I would have been able to deal with him working with me if he were a nurse too.
"Hello hello," He chirped, leaning in to peck my lips before taking a seat. "What's goin' on?"
We filled Avery in on the plans and talked until my lunch ended. I kissed him goodbye, but before I could leave, he pulled me close and whispered into my ear.
"I hope you don't plan on staying out too late. I have a really nice surprise waiting at my house," His voice trailed off, and goosebumps lined my back, "one that involves you, me, and your safe-word." He planted one more kiss on my lips before I went back to work, excited to go out and go home.
It was slow in the ER. I had been dealing with runny noses, sprains, flu cases, and a few possible concussions. Nothing exciting had happened until I got the notification of a possible heart attack coming in via ambulance.
I rushed towards the paramedics, moving with one of the doctors and another nurse. The paramedics gave the run down; female, mid forties, in amazing health, no history of heart conditions, experiencing chest pain and shortness of breath. ECG results show nothing out of the ordinary. Patient is stable, and chest pain is waning. Dr. Grantly called for blood tests, and Marcella went to prep.
My blood ran cold when I saw the face of my next patient. Long, dark hair falling in loose curls down strong shoulders. Arched brows. Defined cheekbones. Pointed jawline. Aristocratic nose. Plump lips painted with red. Eyes as bright and deep as the ocean. Nude blouse. Red slacks. Black heels.
I hadn't even spoken to her since I graduated, and even then, it was sporadic. When she ended our arrangement, I had to delete her number, and restart my whole life. I got my job back at Comatose, motivated myself enough to get my RN license, and kept my apartment. I kept myself busy with work, school, and a ridiculous amount of hookups in attempts to heal my heart. None worked. I went to a few therapy sessions after that, learning a few coping techniques. When I healed enough, I started experimenting with online communities dedicated to a similar lifestyle. The only difference from that and Mallory was that I could go out in public with whoever I wanted and hold hands without it being a scandal. I grew myself over four years, refusing to define my sexuality stretching my limits when it came to bdsm and other kinks. It was almost good that things happened the way they did.
"Mallory," I exhaled, finally reaching the railing of the bed and moving to the nearest room.
Her eyes glanced up at me, sparkling with mirth despite the circumstances. Red lips curled at the ends, "Miss Holland."
Dr Grantly interrupted before anything else could happen, "Hi, Mrs. Morgan. How're you feeling?"
"I'm fine," she stressed.
"Any jaw pain? Nausea? Any more pain or discomfort in your chest?"
Grantly continued to ask and Mallory continued to answer while I took a more recent set of vitals from her. Everything was normal, and when I finished, Marcella came in for her blood, leaving as soon as she finished. Dr. Grantly finished as well, promising he'd return once the results from the blood tests were back. He assured her that he wasn't concerned about much, but would elaborate more when the blood test was in.
Left alone with her, I tried speaking as I moved around, checked her monitors, reread her chart, etc. I couldn't find anything to say.
"Esme."
I looked up at her, red lips still curled up at me. I wasn't sure what I was feeling asides from wanting her to be okay. "Yeah?" I held the chart against my stomach nervously.
Her voice was thick, husky. "How are you?"
"Fine."
"And work?"
"Good."
"Are you going to continue giving me one-worded answers?" She deadpanned, but I could hear the amusement in her voice.
"I, uh-" my voice hitched, "probably."
Blue eyes flashed between me and the chair besides her hospital bed. I knew what she wanted, and still, obedient as ever, I moved. I knew her cues—they were still hardwired in my memory—and I hated myself for it.
"Good girl."
The praise had two effects on me; sating my need to please and twisting my stomach in knots.
"You've made a life for yourself," she stated. "I'm glad you did."
I rolled my eyes. "You paid for my tuition."
"Please don't," she warned.
The hair on my neck bristled. I knew the tone—punishment usually followed it—but I relaxed. Mallory can not punish me. She didn't have authority over me any longer, and she made that choice herself.
"Did you love me?"
Mallory tilted her head, opening her mouth and closing it, only to open it again. "In a way, but not the way you wanted me to."
I stood up. Patting her hand with my own, I glanced a soft smile at her, memorizing every detail of her face before walking out. In the midst of shutting the door, I heard her call my name.
Glancing back at my former mistress, I watched her sit up. She smiled at me again, flashing white teeth. Blue eyes sparkled. "I'm very proud of you."
Smiling politely, I shut the door all the way and paused, leaning against it. "Thank you, Miss," I murmured. My heartbeat slowed to a normal speed and I went back to work, surprised with the events of the day and ready for the next.
Fin.
*continue scrolling for deleted scenes*