Hell Of A Crush

After Kimberly left, Nicholas returned to his father's hospital room to see the old man waiting, and the moment he walked in, his father looked behind, expecting to see Kimberly.

"Where is she? Don't tell me she left," Richard said, his tone tinged with mild disapproval.

"She left. I asked her to marry me and she said she was not interested— but not to worry, I will do what I can to make sure she says yes," Nicholas said before his father could interrupt him.

"I know Kimberly. As much as I understand that she would be upset about being thrust into such an arrangement, she sounded pissed earlier. What did you say or do to her?" Richard asked, but Nicholas shook his head.

There was no way he was going to tell his father that this wasn't the first time he was meeting Kimberly.

"We had a mild misunderstanding…"

"A misunderstanding?" Richard scoffed. "About what?"

Nicholas took a deep breath. "I... I may have accused her of manipulating you or blackmailing you into asking me to marry her," Nicholas admitted.

Richard's posture stiffened. "Manipulate? Blackmail? You think I'm some senile old fool who can be swayed by a pretty face? Since when do you think so little of me?" His voice was sharp, laced with hurt and anger.

Nicholas flinched. "No, of course not. It's just..."

"Just what, Nicholas?" Richard demanded, his gaze piercing.

"What do you take me for? Am I so weak-willed that I'd let myself be bullied into anything? As my son shouldn't you know me better than that? What could I be so desperate to hide or have that I would force you into marriage with someone I do not trust or approve? You insult me, Nicholas," Richard said and shame coiled in Nicholas's gut.

He slumped into the chair Kimberly had vacated, suddenly feeling the weight of his accusations.

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't understand. I still can't understand why you want me to marry her. You barely even know her. You have so many female employees whom you have known longer than you know her, so why did you choose her?" Nicholas asked and Richard looked at him.

Silence stretched between them, thick with tension. Finally, Richard spoke, his voice softer now, tinged with weariness.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, and Nicholas met his father's gaze.

A flicker of defiance warring with the ingrained respect. "Yes," he finally said with a slow nod.

A faint smile touched Richard's lips, "Then believe me when I say Kimberly is the kind of woman a man like you needs. And like I already said, if you don't think so, you are free to find someone of your choice, but it has to be within the stipulated time. It's not a do or die affair, Nicholas. So, do not go about insulting her for something she knows nothing about. As a matter of fact I invited her over here today to tell her about it," he said and Nicholas nodded curtly.

"I figured, hence I apologized to her," Nicholas said and his father sighed.

"See if you can convince her to change her mind about you. I will also speak with her. If she insists on not being interested, you can let her be," Richard said, although he hoped that Kimberly would be more open to the idea after he speaks to her. He would really love to have her as his daughter in-law.

Away from there, Caroline stood in front of the Saint Grace memorial hospital feeling giddy with fatigue from her 12 hours shift and anticipation in her orange blouse and neon pink pant.

It was a miracle she had found them on such short notice and she hoped they left an impression. Something different from the scrubs.

Her hair has been held back with some styling gel. She slipped a hand down, ensuring it was all slick and smooth.

She did a one last check of her bag. Her lip stick, powder and breath mint were all intact, and all that was left was her date and some calm nerves. But it was almost too difficult to stay calm when her mind continually buzzed with his sudden decision to ask her out on a date.

The infinite question which only he could answer looped in mind. Did Dr Cillian like her too? Too, because she had one hell of a crush on him.

It's been ten months two weeks and six days since he started making his way into her dreams, imagination and thoughts. Her mind tirelessly building fantasies about him — and God, those fantasies were the unwinding point of her exhausting days. Those and the moments she stole glances at him.

"I can't believe this is happening." She muttered with a smile, the excitement of it lighting her amber colored eyes.

She took a quick look of her watch. It was 5:59. She was early and that was because, he was never late. Not for his rounds, surgeries or even an impromptu consult.

It had all started on her first day at the Saint Grace memorial hospital, when he came prowling into the E.R like a knight in white coat and performed an emergency C-section for a 30 weeks pregnant woman with a detached placenta. Both mother and child survived.

There was something about the man that locked her in. Something undescribable yet familiar. Something that emptied her lungs, weakend her by the knees and spiked her heart rate till she felt arrhythmic.

Maybe it was the waving mass of brown hair with hints of chestnut that fit beautifully his sharply boned face.

Her face lit up when his car pulled up in front of her and he rounded it and started towards her. His long Calhoun legs graciously closing the space, and his narrow hips left an imagination of tapered muscles hidden behind layers of clothes.

She glanced at her watch again. He was on time. Like always.