Aaron
The moment I step into the lobby of Wilburn Memorial Hospital, the familiar scent of antiseptic mixed with a faint whiff of coffee hits me. It's the same as always—clean, cold, efficient. My father's domain. And now, mine too, if I let him have his way.
After the awkwardness of visiting Chloe's family home and standing across the large living room from Meghan—the woman I'd spent a night with barely hours ago—I need this. The hospital is a distraction, a space where I can compartmentalize. Here, I'm not the reluctant fiancé or the man haunted by a mistake. I'm Aaron Wilburn, the prodigal son, walking into a kingdom I wanted to be mine. And the only way to get this, was to carry out my father's wish. Getting married was his request.
I work hard everyday while I am here. I look after my father. And the least I deserve is to get full ownership. But my father thinks otherwise. I must get married. Any otherwise is a no.
"Dr. Wilburn," comes a familiar voice from the reception desk.
Sandra Salom. I can't help but smile as I approach her. She's been here longer than I can remember, her no-nonsense attitude the glue that keeps this place running. Her gray streaks are a little more pronounced now, but her sharp eyes and warm smile are exactly the same.
"Sandra," I say, leaning casually against the counter. "Still holding this place together, I see. Should I bother asking if my father gave you a raise?"
She laughs, shaking her head. "Same old Aaron. Always a smooth talker. It's been, what, five months?"
"Closer to six, but who's counting?" I say, returning her smile. "I'm surprised you didn't send a search party."
Sandra chuckles softly. Her weak and innocent laugh is always therapeutic.
"You're not that hard to track. Your father keeps us updated," she teases. "How was Japan?"
"Beautiful. Busy. But not quite home," I admit, letting my gaze linger just enough to make her blush. "I missed this place—well, mostly the people. How's everyone holding up?"
"Better now," she quips, her tone dry but her smile warm. "Dr. Patel is waiting for you in cardiology. You should head there before you charm half the staff."
"I'll try to behave," I say, winking as I turn toward the elevators. "But no promises."
The hospital is the only place I can be myself. Settling in after my degree, I have always been a constant figure here. Just like Sandra Salom. We both were the pillars of the hospital. The hospital which is popular not only among the locals but the neighboring states as well.
The cardiology wing is bustling, as it always is. Nurses in pale blue scrubs weave through the halls, clipboards in hand, their movements efficient but not rushed. The Wilburn name may be on the building, but they're the ones who keep it alive.
I spot a young nurse at the station, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Her green eyes lift from the chart in her hands, and when she catches sight of me, she does a slight double take. She doesn't look familiar. I haven't spotted her once in this hospital. She must be a new staff member in the hospital. This sounds like more paper work on my desk. Paperwork I am certain have piled up on my desk during my six months leave.
"Dr. Wilburn?" she asks, her voice soft but steady.
"That's what they call my father," I say, stepping closer. "You can call me Aaron."
I am usually irked when I get called officially. I am more of a casual guy especially among the staff.
Her cheeks flush, but she recovers quickly. "Aaron, then. Are you here to see Dr. Patel?"
"I am," I say, holding my gaze on her for a moment longer than necessary. "But now I'm wondering if I should've stopped here first. What's your name?"
"Lily," she says, her lips twitching into a small smile. "I've been here for a month and a half now. Surprised we haven't crossed paths."
"Well, Lily, consider this my formal apology for being so late to the party." I grin, and she shakes her head, trying to hide her amusement.
She looks uncomfortable as she smiles back. Her cheek grows scarlet and I can tell that I have gotten to her. She looks so young and I guess she graduated just a few months ago.
"Dr. Patel's office is just down the hall. Third door on the left," she says, pointing me in the right direction.
"Thanks," I say, holding her gaze for a beat longer. "I'll try not to get lost again. Might need your help if I do."
She laughs softly, her blush deepening, and I turn away, heading down the corridor.
I arrive at Dr. Patel's office with much ease. I can still remember my way around the hospital like I had been here just yesterday. It will be hard to forget a place you have treated like a second home for years.
I knock on the door gently before grabbing the door gently and swinging it open. I step into the office and find Dr. Patel behind his desk.
Dr. Patel is a half Indian half American doctor with long black hair and brown eyes. He was my junior in college. He had a good reputation in college which had prompted me to hire him as soon as I saw his application letter.
Dr. Patel greets me with the same firm handshake and warm smile when he recognizes me. His office is cluttered but functional, papers stacked precariously on his desk and an overworked coffee machine humming in the corner.
"Aaron," he says, gesturing for me to sit. "Good to see you. Your father mentioned you'd be stopping by."
"Good to see you too, Doc," I say, settling into the chair across from him. "How's cardiology holding up?"
"Busy, as usual. But we manage," he says with a chuckle. "Your father's been asking about you, you know. Hoping you'll take more interest in the hospital."
"That sounds like him," I say, keeping my tone light. "I'm just visiting for now. Thought I'd check in, see how everyone's doing."
Dr. Patel studies me for a moment, his sharp eyes seeming to see right through my casual demeanor.
"And your upcoming marriage?" he asks, his voice carefully neutral.
I resist the urge to fidget. "It's… progressing," I say, choosing my words carefully. I didn't know that the whole hospital was aware of the marriage. It made me wonder who spilled the tea.
He nods, not pressing further.
"Well, if you need anything while you're here, my door's always open."
"Thanks, Doc," I say, standing. "I'll hold you to that."
As I wander back through the hospital, I let myself take it all in—the sounds, the faces, the energy of the place. This is supposed to be my world. And it is going to be mine soon. All I need is time.
"Aaron," a familiar voice calls out, and I turn to see Dr. Elena Martinez approaching.
Elena, head of pediatrics, has always had a presence that commands attention. Her white coat is pristine, her dark hair framing her face in loose waves. We had a few dates back in the day but it failed to progress from there.
"Elena," I say, smiling. "Still running the pediatric wing like a queen?"
"Someone has to," she says, her tone teasing. "What brings you back? Finally ready to take over for your father?"
"Not quite," I say, stepping closer. "Just visiting for now. Thought I'd check in on the people who actually keep this place running."
She arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Well, you've certainly made an impression. I think half the nurses are already talking about you."
"Only half?" I say, feigning disappointment. "Clearly, I need to up my game."
She laughs, shaking her head. "Careful, Aaron. Some of us don't fall for your charm so easily."
That is a lie considering she had been disappointed we never really kicked off. But it is something of the past now.
"Noted," I say, my grin widening. "But if I drop by pediatrics, you won't kick me out, will you?"
"Only if you behave," she says, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Where's the fun in that?" I shoot back, earning another laugh before she walks away.
Back in the lobby, Sandra is chatting with Lily, the two of them laughing softly.
"Heading out already?" Sandra asks as I approach.
"For now," I say. "But don't get too comfortable. You'll be seeing more of me."
"Lucky us," she says dryly, though her smile is genuine.
I turn to Lily, offering her a small wink. "And you, don't forget—I'm counting on you for directions next time."
"I'll be here," she says, her cheeks tinged pink again.
As I step outside, the sun hits me, warm and bright against the cool hospital air. The weight of the day ahead presses at the edges of my thoughts—my arranged marriage, my father's expectations, and the ghost of Meghan's gaze across the living room.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I reach into it. I pull it out and stare at the caller's ID. It is my father. I ignore the call and shove the phone back in, heaving a sigh afterwards. I didn't want to talk to him now.
For now, I'll let myself enjoy the moment. This hospital, for all its complications, feels like a space where I can breathe.
And if nothing else, it's always good to be remembered.