Need Someone | [Complete]

Chapter 15: Caught Up

The next afternoon when I came to work, Ziggy had already been taken downstairs for his transfusion. I had been through a rollercoaster of emotions in the past few days, which was very inconvenient timing considering I was due for my period. Fighting with Rebecca fueled my anxiety, but I knew what she said only got under my skin because it was true. Talking to him last night made a lot of things clearer for me. It made me realize I hadn't sorted through a lot of the grief I still had from that time. I wished I had been able to figure that out without crying on him last night, but it was becoming obvious that I didn't have a lot of self-control when it came to him.

Tiffany leaned onto the desk and zipped up and package of samples with a groan. She had suffered a knee injury from a new workout regimen, or so I overheard from her conversation with the other nurses. "I can take those to the lab," I offered. "I'm still waiting on some blood panels."

"If you don't mind," she smiled. "It will save me some limping."

"Yeah, no problem. Put that foot up."

Her smile widened. "Thank you, Sabine."

I took the bag from her with a grin. I was more than willing to help her out, but I had ulterior motives.

I jogged down the stairs to the basement and went to hematology. I went down the hall to the lab and handed over the samples, thanking the technician when I did. Just around the corner were the transfusion rooms. While I was more than allowed to be with my patient wherever he was, but there were other patients upstairs that required more assistance than having someone sit next to them while they worried about needles.

My presence at the desk made the attendant look up. "Can you tell me which room Mr. Ziegler is in?"

"Sure. Uh," she looked at her screen. "He should be in G."

"Thanks."

I walked down to the room and peeked inside. Ziggy was already hooked up, and they have left him alone. It seemed like he was always alone if he wasn't with me. Or maybe it was the other way around.

He sat in the wide-armed recliner wearing a black crocheted beanie that he pulled down to the top of his thick-framed glasses. He flipped through a Vogue magazine, probably wishing he was working rather than sitting here. He probably wished he was doing anything other than sitting here. He looked over the lines in his arm and cringed. It wasn't right for me to keep standing here staring at him. "Hey," I said quietly.

He looked up. "Hey." His eyes traced over me. A smile spread across his face. "Look who it is," he said, holding up his magazine. I pulled the stool over and lean onto the wide arm of his chair. On the page was a familiar mascara ad.

"Well, look at you, Mr. Big Shot," I mustered all of my enthusiasm. "Vogue again?"

"My legacy shall be vanity," he joked darkly, but I didn't have the energy to scold him. He looked at me and frowned. "You look tired."

"I am."

"What's going on in your life? Outside of babysitting me, that is." He didn't seem too concerned with discussing last night. I gave into the diversion.

"Not a lot. It's all wedding bullshit right now."

"Is Rebecca still being a control freak?" How did he know that? I probably talked too much about her. As if I had anyone else in my life to discuss with Ziggy.

"Yes. She's always a bit of a dictator when it comes to her stupid plans. Everything has to be on her schedule to her level of perfection—which is impossible, by the way. And heaven forbid she ever thanks me when I come close." An angry sigh left me in a huff. "Sorry, I don't mean to complain to you about my petty bullshit."