On-call doctor

“This is for when you need to... be hugged,” she assures me, kneeling down in front of me to be at my level and giving me a hug.

The love spreads throughout my body, sparks of happiness flood my soul, and her arms assure me that no matter what happens, everything will be okay.

The final words of my grandmother reach me as I begin to open my eyes, chilling my soul.

I search for the security of his arms, but his side of the bed is empty and cold. I try not to get upset, it’s just a dream. I cover myself with the sheet like a robe and go out to look for him, following the sound of footsteps in the living room and finding him whispering on the phone.

“I told them I wouldn’t be on call today... No, don’t come...,” he throws the phone to the ground. “Damn it!” he exclaims, noticing my presence and my startle.

I come completely out of the hallway and the fury in his eyes scares me. I hold onto the sheets even more, seeking the courage that escaped me in the face of his outburst.

“I’m sorry, beautiful, I’m sorry,” he says, approaching gently. “I just got called to attend to a patient. I really wanted to stay with you all night, but I have no choice,” he comments, hugging me remorsefully.

“It’s okay, don’t worry, your work is important, I understand. Go and save lives,” I add, returning the hug.

The fear is replaced by the warmth of his body, he takes my hand and accompanies me to the room. He quickly gets dressed and says:

“I’ll go get you a taxi, okay?”

“That’s fine, I’m almost done,” I reply.

He leaves a kiss on my forehead and leaves the bedroom. I try to silence the voice telling me to run, to escape and never come back. I’m not one to judge his actions in the midst of anger, I’ve also thrown things in a tantrum when things didn’t go as expected. Although his gaze worries me, there’s something that manages to put every cell in my body on alert. I shake my head, push aside those thoughts, and finish getting dressed.

“Are you ready?” he asks, startling me. “Is everything okay?” inquires upon seeing my reaction.

“Yes,” I lie, needing to get out of here and think about all of this away from him.

“The taxi is waiting outside, are you sure everything’s okay?” he asks, not really convinced.

“Of course,” I reply, forcing a smile.

We walk together to the exit, trying to hide my disturbance. I say goodbye with a kiss before getting into the taxi.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispers, closing the taxi door.

As the car begins its journey back home, I realize that I’ve been holding my breath. It was just a tantrum, he’s not even close to being a dangerous guy, after all, he was the one who saved me, defended me from someone who was going to hurt me.

“Shit, my bag,” I exclaim as soon as I notice it’s missing.

“Do you want us to go back?” the taxi driver asks.

“Yes, please,” I say, feeling a knot in my heart.

The taxi turns around and we head back down the parallel street. The journey back feels much shorter, and as soon as he stops in front of his house, I take a deep breath. I get out and approach his door slowly. Why am I afraid of him if his caresses have shown me so much love? “Because those eyes full of fury scream ‘psychopath’,” my rational self replies. The lights are still on, so I don’t think he’s gone to the hospital yet.

I knock softly, but no one answers. I try my luck by trying to open the door, and it gives way, letting me in. The noise coming from the kitchen indicates where he is, and to not surprise him before entering, I start saying:

“It’s me, I forgot my...”

The scene that unfolds before me leaves me speechless, forcing me to leave the sentence unfinished.

Dante is there with gloved and bloody hands, a guy is lying on the island bleeding profusely from one side of his abdomen.

“Who the hell are you?” another guy asks, pointing the barrel of a gun at my temple.