Resuscitate My Love: Episode 3 – Code Switch
WHIT
“Ms. Lourdes,” I said as I entered the room, her eyes meeting mine. My patient, Lourdes James, turned her attention from her sister and focused on me.
Her eyes lit up just a little, but I could sense the worry behind them.
I placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her the warmest smile I could muster up.
I was a doctor, yes, but I always believed that healing went beyond what medicine could offer. It started with peace of mind. Without peace of mind, no medicine on the planet could work.
So, I always made sure to offer up a healthy dose of reassurance.
Her chart was in my hand when I asked, “How are you doing this morning?”
“Eh,” she started with a sigh. “The chest pain’s not so bad, but I still have trouble with breathing. Short inhales are fine, but it’s those big ones that are the trouble.”
I nodded, seeing the consistency in her write-up that was done overnight when she came in.
“Well, your tests are underway,” I told her. “And we’ve got you monitored closely. There haven’t been any visible signs of anything physical, but we still have more test results we’re waiting on.”
I closed her chart and tucked it under my arm. “Right now, your heart’s in a bit of distress.”
The worry lines deepened in her forehead, and she glanced over at her sister who immediately took her hand.
I laid a hand on Lourdes’ shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “But not to worry. I suspect the symptoms you’re experiencing are stress-induced. Nothing at all you did wrong. It’s just your heart reacting to what you’ve been going through, it seems.”
I glanced over at her sister, who looked to be blinking back tears.
“Has there been any recent change in your life that may have caused an uptick of stress?”
“We buried our sister last week,” her sister spoke up, nodding. “Lourdes and Lani were twins.”
“Yeah.” Lourdes’s hard swallow was audible to me this close. “Devastating. No warning.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.
“Since then… I can’t seem to catch my breath.”
“Grief tends to do that.” I nodded with reassurance. “It lives in the body and is not just emotional. But we’ll get through this. I’m here for another hour. We should have the results by then, and if not, I’ll stay a little longer to deliver them to you.”
“Thank you, Dr. Bishop,” Lourdes said.
“It’s my pleasure.” I smiled. “Once we have the results, we’ll talk about the best path forward. Sound good?”
“Sounds great,” Ms. Lourdes replied. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” I nodded to her sister before refocusing on Ms. Lourdes. “I’ll be back soon.”
With her chart in hand, I turned to leave her room, finally letting the yawn I’d been stifling let go.
I was tired.
Overnight wasn’t too bad, but I’d been on call for almost thirty-six hours and exhaustion was starting to creep up on me.
“I need coffee,” I said to myself.
At 6:15 in the morning, the halls were clear in Brooklyn Bay Medical Center. BBMC was like my second home. It actually literally was my second home, as I spent a lot of my life here. I had very few days off. The ones I could manage were spent catching up with my family.
Thank God my best friend Jazzy kept unconventional work hours, because if not, I’d barely see her too.
But I love this place. Despite how uncomfortable it can get and the insane hours, I loved it.
I was in the final year of my residency program and had survived it. Things were honestly on the up and up until a particular person walked through the hospital doors.
There were at least 70 hospitals in the New York metropolitan area, and my ex-situationship Deion Greene chose here.
I kissed my teeth at the thought as I approached the front desk.
With over 500 beds, BBMC was a major teaching hospital in the heart of Brooklyn. We were one of Brooklyn’s highest-volume trauma centers and known for our fast-paced ER and diverse staff.
My place in the mix was in the ER, or The Pit, as we liked to call it here. Gunshot wounds, OD patients, car crashes, psych holds, and more colored my world in here.
Ms. Lourdes was light work for me. I didn’t get easy patients like that often, so I often appreciated the calm in that whenever I could get it.
I’d set the chart down on the front desk and proceeded to log into the EMR system on the desktop at the nurses’ station to type in notes.
My patient didn’t know it, but she was literally dealing with a broken heart. When she came into the ER, I’d checked her vitals and could tell what was happening to her wasn’t medical. I knew it had to be emotional.
I knew the feeling too. Chest pains, unable to inhale a deep enough breath when hit with news I didn’t see coming.
Been there, done that. When I experienced it, I didn’t lose anyone in death, just in life.
And now his ass was haunting the hallways of my second home.
I spotted movement in my peripheral and instinctively glanced that way.
Hated myself for doing a double take when I saw Deion swaggering up the hall in a bit of a rush.
“Speaking of the devil,” I mumbled to myself as I forced my eyes down on the desktop.
“Just ignore him, just ignore him,” I coached.
Reminding myself to do that had been the only way I could keep it together whenever we happened to be in the same hall.
The first time I saw Deion in the hospital, I nearly swallowed my damn tongue. It was like he’d appeared out of thin air. I thought I was seeing things. Because of all the places, I would have never even imagined him being at BBMC.
The day I first saw him, I just walked out into the hallway, and there he was… looking exactly the same. Handsome like always. Appealing, unfortunately.
Kind of like how he was looking now.
Despite me telling myself to just ignore him, I lifted my gaze to see he was not only heading in my direction, it looked like he was heading right for me.
“What the hell?” I murmured as the distance between him and I grew smaller. “Is he…?”
My heart dropped, my breath caught in my chest when he arrived only inches in front of me.
“Just go with it,” was the only thing he said to me… before his mouth was on my mouth.
Yes! Deion Greene’s mouth was on my muthafucking mouth!
I gasped. My body tensed as he crashed his lips into mine. His arm circled my waist and he held me in a gentle, firm grip against his body.
The kiss wasn’t aggressive in the least, but dammit it was bold as fuck.
And because of it, I froze, then melted against him, my eyes completely betraying me as they closed.
His lips were soft. So soft it felt like I had no choice but to let them use them to part mine, and for his tongue to slide right on in.
That coffee I needed? Found it. On his tongue. And I had never had coffee so good.
Somewhere between him settling his body against mine to caress my tongue intentionally, it didn’t take me long to remember that I was supposed to be hating him. To remember that this wasn’t a dream. We were in the hospital at the front desk… kissing!
I pulled back, breaking the kiss. My eyes were wide, darting across his face, doing my very best to keep it together and to understand what was happening.
I swiped a finger beneath my lip and asked, “Have you lost your muthafuc—”
“Whitney!”
I recognized the voice but not the face at first.
When I peeked behind Deion, I noticed a familiar woman’s face, but knew that’s not where the voice came from.
It was when I lowered my eyes that I gasped, then blinked hard.
“Mrs… Greene,” I said, low at first.
Low, because I was a little in disbelief and couldn’t find my voice.
She was in a wheelchair, and being pushed by her warm, composed assistant.
Mrs. Greene wore a long cardigan sweater and an oxygen cannula looped under her nose.
We were on the last days of summer, but it was nowhere near autumn temps.
The cardigan, the cannula… this wasn’t the Mrs. Greene I remembered.
Her voice was warm like it had always been, but now raspy.
So raspy.
“Sweetheart,” she said, her glow still present despite her ill appearance. “You look so beautiful. My goodness, it’s been too long.”
I was stunned into silence. Between the kiss and Mrs. Greene’s appearance, I simply didn’t have the words.
“I know,” she giggled. “I, on the other hand, look terrible, huh?”
“You look beautiful,” I whispered before clearing my throat and shaking some sense into my head. I moved around Deion and leaned forward to embrace Mrs. Greene in her wheelchair.
Even her hug felt different… fainter, more fragile than I remembered.
One of the last times she hugged me, it had felt like…
“Oh.” Mrs. Greene squeezed me tight the moment I walked through the doors of the grand room. “I’m so happy you could make it!”
I couldn’t control my eyes from roaming over her shoulder in our hug. The grand room was its namesake for sure.
It was my first time visiting her Hamptons mansion, Deion’s childhood home. She’d invited me after meeting me at his apartment when I was there caring for him when he got a really bad cold.
The mansion smelled so rich, but with the attention Mrs. Greene was paying me, and her loving embrace, you’d think I was the wealthy one.
“I’m so happy you came,” she said, hugging me just a little tighter.
I smiled, feeling so at home already, which to me was a good sign. “Same.”
The memory faded just as quickly as it came. Because here she was now… smaller, quieter, wrapped in layers despite the warmth outside. Still glowing, still gracious… but not the same.
And that scared me.
I pulled back from our hug to get a better look at her.
“I hate that we’re reuniting like this,” she rasped. “But I’m so very happy to see you again.”
“How…” I had to clear my throat as I could feel myself getting choked up. “How are you feeling?”
I had so many questions, so many thoughts. I felt myself short-circuiting.
“Better,” she said, taking my hand. “Much better just seeing you two together again.”
I whipped my head in Deion’s direction to see him forcing a smile.
My heart rate ticked up a bit.
“You always brought out the best in my son.” She focused up at him. “Still does, huh? ‘Cause you couldn’t help but to plant a good ol’ kiss on her during work hours.”
She chuckled to herself before coughing, and I placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she reassured, placing a hand on mine.
A second later, I felt an arm drape over my shoulder.
Deion’s.
He tightened his hold and pulled me closer to him.
“Whit’s the best part of my day,” he said, leaning over just enough to kiss my cheek.
I’m gonna kill him dead right here, right now.
I glared at him for a beat before refocusing on her with softer eyes.
What the hell is happening?!
Mrs. Greene chuckled softly. “Well, I’ll let you two get back to your shift. I know it’s almost over. I just wanted to come on over and say hey to my favorite girl here.”
She lifted a hand, and I was quick to take it.
My heart was literally breaking at the lightweight of her hand.
What’s wrong with her?
“We’ll catch up, Whit,” she told me. “I sincerely can’t wait, too.”
I was so caught up in the moment, caught up in how she looked, that all I could do was allow a small smile to pull at my lips and nod.
Seconds later, her assistant turned Mrs. Greene around in her wheelchair and wheeled her off, Mrs. Greene peeking behind her one last time to smile and wave.
For a moment, I needed to gather myself. The last five or so minutes had been so confusing, shocking, heartbreaking, and there was one person in the center of it all.
I whipped my head so fast in Deion’s direction I felt the air shift with me.
My teeth were clenched so tight I could break my jaw.
One glance around us told me we had the attention of some of the hospital staff, including our attending—and acting chief—Dr. Malik Harlan.
I swallowed hard, then focused on Deion.
“Follow me,” I said low, in a low growl and with as much self-control as possible.
I felt like I was stomping in the direction of one of our consult rooms as we headed that way.
Couldn’t get there fast enough. Imagined all the things I would do to Deion once I got his ass on the other side of the door.
We’d gone months without speaking with each other, me trying to pretend he didn’t exist when all I saw was him. Only for today, for his lips to touch mine and for the shit to feel so damn good.
I was pissed the fuck off!
The moment we got into the consult room, I’d spun around, prepared to rip into him.
“I’m gonna kill you,” were my first words to him. My second if you include what I wanted to say to him after the kiss. But nonetheless, my first real words to this jackass. “I’m going to choke you and then I’m going to gut you with my bare hands, choke you with your intestines, then I’m going to resuscitate you for your mother’s sake.”
He pressed his hands together, then brought his fingers to his lips. “Whit—”
“What the fuck, Deion?” I yelled, my voice echoing around us. “What the hell just happened?!”
He lowered his hand, then licked his lips. “I had to.”
“You had to?”
Deion moved closer to me, bringing with him his scent. A scent I thought I’d forgotten, but it carried a rush of memories I had to shake my head to escape. But that scent had already settled… like it never left.
“My mom thinks we’re back together.”
“You don’t say?” I turned away to run my hands down my face. My heart was racing, and so were the thoughts running through my head. “And where would she get such an asinine idea like that?”
I turned to face him again to see him biting his bottom lip.
God, I used to love when he did that. Especially during lovemaking… or sex… or whatever it is that we used to do.
I closed my eyes and held my lids tightly closed.
Whitney, focus.
“Did you tell her we were together, Deion?” I asked, my eyes still closed.
“I didn’t plan on this happening, Whit,” his deep voice permeated the small consult room. “She got diagnosed, and… she was so low, man. She started saying all this stuff about wanting to live long enough to see me happy, to see me loved…”
I opened my eyes to his and saw it. Something I thought he’d never let me see again.
I finally realized what that heavy was I mentioned he had now, the first thing I noticed when I’d seen him after three years. How he still looked the same, but that he seemed heavier emotionally, like something was weighing him down.
This was it.
“I panicked,” he continued. “I said your name.”
“You used me?” I questioned. It was mostly to confirm to myself that what I felt out there, as random as it was, wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. “You used me as some comfort story?”
“No.” He shook his head, his perfectly rolled short locs at the top of his head gleaming under the overhead lights. “I remembered how much she loved you and how much I…” He pushed air through his mouth, then shook his head. “She lit up when I mentioned you, Whit. Like a lightbulb. So… I kept going.”
“You kept lying.” I pressed a hand to my forehead. “Wow.”
“She’s sick, Whit,” he said low. “Really sick.”
“What’s her diagnosis?”
“Multiple myeloma,” he whispered, and hearing it broke my heart just a little more. “Early stage, which I guess is a positive, right?”
“Damn,” I said low, tucking my lips into my mouth and shaking my head.
“She has her good days,” he explained. “And her not-so-good days. And on her not-so-good day, I had to do something.” He shrugged. “It’s my mother.”
I stared at him for a moment before looking away. I focused on the mounted computer, then the rolling chairs—anything but him… looking and sounding like this.
Vulnerable, visibly hurting.
Deion was in rare form.
“This gives her something,” he said, closing the distance between us. “Hope. I didn’t mean for it to get this far. I never thought she’d show up here.”
I closed my eyes again and dropped my head back between my shoulders.
I really shouldn’t care right now. I had every right to blow up Deion’s spot to his mother and tell her that her son was a liar because not only are we not together, but we haven’t spoken since he’s gotten here. Not until today.
And yet… I did care. And it hurt. It hurt to care, and that was what was breaking my heart the most.
But Deion looked so shaken speaking about his mother. It was clear her illness was eating at him, as it would any son watching his mother deal with the results of multiple myeloma.
“So what now?” I sighed, then folded my arms over my scrubs. “I’m supposed to just agree to be your little fake girlfriend again?”
He licked his lips slowly, then nodded. “Just for today. Please.”
I scoffed, pushing my tongue inside my cheek.
“Please, Whit,” he begged this time, eyes locked on mine.
Those dreamy eyes that had made me do things that had me questioning my sanity only three years ago.
God.
I really need that coffee.
I couldn’t stop my eyes from misting, glossing without my control.
“Just this once,” I forced out. “And don’t expect shit outside this building. We’re not together, and we’re not starting anything again. Got it?”
“Got it,” he affirmed, pressing his hands together again. “Thank you.”
“I’m doing it for your mother, not you.”
With that, I turned to leave the consult room, inhaling a valiant breath as I slipped back into Dr. Bishop.
En route to the front desk to get my patient’s chart, I passed her room and heard a soft laugh come from it.
A quick peek inside made me smile a little. A laugh was good. Once I got her test results, I was confident I’d be able to send her home.
Something about that centered me again.
What a weird moment that was with Deion… but also, good.
It broke my heart to see Mrs. Greene like that, but it felt good to see her again.
Not as much as feeling Deion’s lips on mine.
Never in a million years would I have imagined that happening ever again.
And was it weird that I wouldn’t mind that happening again?
I shook my head as I closed the distance between myself and the front desk.
The thing I couldn’t shake, even if I tried, was this: the lie we were telling for love and his mother’s comfort felt more honest and real than the silence that came before she arrived at the hospital and Deion kissed me.
And that shit? Was concerning.
A New Episode Of Resuscitate My Love Will Be Posted And Sent On Monday, July 28th!
