Piece by Piece

Chapter 10

Aliena (last September)

"Sebastian Henderson. Who's this?"

Shit. He picked up. He actually picked up. Fuck, I'm not ready for this. I really, really am not. I don't have the right words. I'm not calm. Shit, I should have let a doctor do this. Or another nurse. Someone this was less personal for. Anyone but me. I really shouldn't have called.

But I wanted it to be me. I thought that maybe it would help to get the news from someone he knows, someone that could share some of his pain. Or maybe I did it for my sake. Because I wanted to hear his familiar voice. No matter how rude he is to me at times, he's still my friend. I could need that now.

I swallow a sob, biting down on my tongue behind the hand that's clasped over my mouth. I've been crying for an hour already, why can't I stop now? I wanted to stop to make this call, that's why I waited this long in the first place. But I couldn't put it off any longer. It isn't fair to keep this from him for so long. We're to notify the loved ones as shortly after the death of a resident as possible. God, I really am messing this up.

If only I hadn't gotten so damn attached to someone I knew was on borrowed time. After nearly six years of working here, I should have known better. If only I hadn't gotten so used to her asking about my day or weekends, her sweet smiles, and those Cribbage lessons. Maybe then it wouldn't feel as if something was stolen from me now. Taken unjustly. Broken right out of my chest.

I hold the phone away from my face and take a shaky breath.

"Sebastian, hey. Here's Bloomfield living care. Um, Aliena." I hiccup, remembering the time Rosie introduced me to him. If only I hadn't met him then. Maybe I never would've been able to imagine the sweet man he could be. I never would have met the loving, polite side of him that I never got another glimpse at since that first meeting. I saw on the visitor list that he only ever came when I wasn't there and whenever we were forced to hang out together with our friends, he was different.

Relaxed and funny with his friends and Lily. Occasionally he even spared some humor for me. After our rocky start at his party, he never really warmed up to me and I never tried to change that. He was laid back and left me alone. Whenever we didn't have those stolen, rare moments where our chemistry would bubble up unexpectantly.

One time I stumbled on the sidewalk and he had to steady me by the elbows. I looked up at him and for a second, something warm flickered to live in those dark eyes. Another time, I spilled some of my drink on him and stupidly tried to clean it. Again, our eyes locked with my hand on his chest and in that short moment, I almost kissed him. I thought he almost kissed me.

Both of those times and many other similar ones ended with him pushing me away. Every flirty, mean comment he'd sometimes throw at me was followed by even more distance as soon as he realized what we'd done.

He was a player, he was rude, and he was nothing like the young man he pretended to be around his grandma. Or maybe he's pretending around us. Either way, I'm about to deliver bad news and I've never hated my job more. No matter how expected this was.

"Yes?" the man on the other side prompts, his voice impossibly colder. He knows what's coming. He must.

"I'm calling about Rosie. I'm so sorry to inform you that she passed away this afternoon." I can't keep down my sob this time, memories of the alarm going off in the break room for us nurses as her vitals dropped tormenting me. I don't think I'll ever forget how my heart froze over and dropped to my stomach. Or how I started running to her room before anyone else reacted.

I broke down at her bedside and took her hand as if it were my grandmother. Meanwhile, I guess I stole that opportunity from her actual grandson by waiting so long to call him. Maybe he could've seen her one last time. By now, they must have brought her away.

The guilt is making me sick. I force the last words out, not unlike how I had at our briefing when we first met. "She went quietly during her nap. I am really sorry for your loss." Okay, there it was. That's it.

I cover my mouth again and try not to sniffle too loudly as I wait for his reply. It takes him a few seconds but finally, he snaps, "God, get your act together. What is wrong with you? This is your job, stop crying." With that, the line disconnects, and I finally set the phone down. Curling in on me like I've wanted to for the last hour.

I can't even blame him for how he just reacted. I couldn't even tell him about his grandmother's death without falling apart and making it all about me. It's like I'm that needy kid on Christmas again.

No, he's hurting too and if the roles were reversed, I'm sure I would have wished for someone more professional to deliver such news. I'll just take this as a lesson not to never get this close to a patient again, for one part, and to be what the person losing a lost one needs the next time. I need to stop looking for scraps of affection wherever I can. This isn't the place.

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I know, I know, we don't like Seb rn...

Just stick w me, okay, the next chapter will be from his pov...👀

Have an excellent day<3