Monday came by fast, faster than I would've loved for it to, and of all the days to sleep in, it had to be today—my first day at work.

I was flying around the room in a frenzy, trying to pull myself together and make myself somewhat presentable but it felt like the universe was conspiring against me. Clothes were strewn across the floor, dresser drawers were left gaping, my pants were putting up a ridiculous fight, refusing to slide over my hips, and the sun? It peeked through the blinds, casting a golden reminder that I should've been out the door ten minutes ago.

"Ugh!" I groaned in frustration, yanking my pants with all the grace of a wild animal.

"You need to calm down, princess," Tristan drawled lazily from his position on the edge of the bed.

"Calm down?" I practically screeched, hopping on one leg as I wrestled with my stubborn pants. "I can't calm down! I'm late! My hair looks like I've been dragged through a hedge! My outfit? Non-existent since I can't even get my ass to fit into these stupid pants! And, oh God, I can't even remember if I brushed my teeth!"

His shoulders shook as he tried—and failed—to hold back his laughter.

"This isn't funny!" I barked, grabbing my bra off the dresser and chucking it at his stupid, gorgeous face. "It's your fault I'm running late! You kept me up all night!"

He caught the bra effortlessly, his insufferable grin widening. "Kept you up? I seem to recall you doing most of the work, sweetheart."

I glowered at him, cheeks burning from a mix of frustration and... well, damn it, he wasn't entirely wrong. I was the one who'd been insatiable last night, thanks to these raging pregnancy hormones that had turned me into a sex-crazed lunatic. One look at him—shirtless, with that perfect body and smug grin—and I was a goner. Even now, just looking at him sitting there, completely unbothered, naked, and unapologetically sexy was making me hot all over again.

I huffed and turned away quickly, focusing on getting dressed before I did something stupid, like crawl back into bed with him.

I slipped on my Bavarian cream satin blouse. The fabric felt luxurious against my skin, a small comfort as my nerves bubbled beneath the surface. I'd chosen a simple yet elegant outfit for my first day—something understated, but with a touch of sophistication. After buttoning up the blouse and tucking it neatly into my high-waisted olive green pleated pants, I veered back around. "Do I look okay?" I asked, desperate for some validation that I didn't look like a total disaster.

Tristan tilted his head and stared for what felt like a long, torturous moment. His eyes dragged over every inch of me, and for a split second, I felt self-conscious. "Well?" I pressed, feeling my nerves rise. "Say something."

His eyes finally met mine and his lips curved into a familiar, infuriatingly smug grin. "Honestly?" he teased, leaning back lazily, "I prefer you naked."

I shot him a glare, half tempted to hurl my hairbrush at him. "Really? That's your feedback?"

He shrugged, utterly unfazed. "You asked."

I shook my head. "You're impossible."

His eyes twinkled with that annoying confidence that I both loved and hated. "Admit it, you love me this way."

"Don't flatter yourself." I bit, turning sharply to the mirror. Now, if I could just get this hair under control... I grabbed my brush and started to comb through, attempting to pull it into some kind of order.

Two minutes in, I realized it was a losing battle and tried for a ponytail, but the band kept slipping through my fingers like it was mocking me. Every time I thought I had it, it would slip again, making my frustration spike. "Dammit!" I cursed under my breath, glaring at the reflection of my hair. "Why won't you just work!"

"Need a hand?" Tristan asked, watching the entire ordeal with quiet amusement from the bed.

"No, I've got it," I retorted, though I clearly didn't.

With a soft sigh, he slid off the bed, coming up behind me.

"Go away," I bit. "I said I've got this."

But his strong, warm hands reached up to still mine as they fumbled through my hair. "Breathe, my darling," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "You're gonna be just fine."

"Easy for you to say," I exhaled, leaning into his touch despite my better judgment. "You're not the one who's late for the first day of a new job."

"No," he agreed, pressing a lazy kiss to my neck, "but you've got this, and you look amazing. Pants or no pants."

My lips tugged up slightly. "I swear, you're impossible."

He grinned, taking the brush from my hand and gently working it through my hair with a patience I was sorely lacking at the moment. "You've got nothing to worry about," he reassured. "You're going to ace today. They'll be lucky to have you. You're smart, capable, and... well, they don't know it yet, but you're a bit of a badass."

Hearing those words come from him made my stomach warm. It meant a lot to have his support. "Thank you," I said, catching his gaze in the mirror.

He smiled back, gathering my hair into a smooth, perfect ponytail. Once he had it neatly secured with the elusive band that had been giving me so much trouble, he spun me around, giving me a final once-over. "You look perfect." He concluded with a proud grin that made my heart flutter.

"Thanks, Tristan, what would I do without you?"

He cupped my face in his hands. "You'd go to work looking like Chewbacca."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help a small smile. "I hate you."

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "And yet, you still let me keep you up all night."

My cheeks burned. I shoved him playfully away. "Next time, I'm locking you out."

"Promises, promises," he teased, and then leaned in, taking my lips in a kind of kiss that made me forget where I was, what time it was, and why I was in such a hurry.

For a moment, It was just him, his lips, and that familiar warmth that made me feel like everything would be okay. I wanted to give in so bad, I would've, but—

Work. First day. Late!

"I have to go," I blurted out, breaking away from him and stepping back.

Tristan tried to pull me back in, "Are you sure?" His voice dropped lower, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. "I could make you extra late for a very good reason..."

For a split second, I wavered. God, it would be so easy to let him pull me back in. But then I caught sight of the clock out of the corner of my eye. Nope. No way.

"Alright, mister, break it up." I shoved him off and grabbed my bag. "I'm going to work. Try not to be so smug when I get back."

"Good luck with that," he called after me, laughing as I bolted for the door.

***

I burst through the hospital doors, gasping for air as my heart pounded like it was trying to escape my chest.

Who in their right mind thought ditching a car in gridlocked traffic and running two miles was a good idea?

Oh right—me.

Hands on my knees, I glanced around, taking in the maze of people in scrubs, patients being wheeled in, and a steady stream of beeping monitors and hushed voices. Everything felt too loud and too fast, and I wasn't sure where to start, but I settled for searching for anyone with a symbol of authority who could help.

That was when I spotted her; a lighthouse amidst the chaos.

She stood out, petite and sure, with a commanding presence that practically smacked you in the face. Her red hair was slicked back into a bun so tight it looked like she could use it as a weapon, and she was wearing a navy blue tunic with crisp white piping along the edges, but it wasn't the uniform that made her stand out, it was the way she held herself as she brutally chewed out the guy behind the front desk.

I straightened up, wiping the sweat from my forehead. My legs still felt like jelly from the run, but there was no way I was going to approach her looking like a complete mess. I smoothed down my blouse, folding it into place, and then I inhaled deeply before proceeding to walk over.

The closer I got, the clearer her voice became as she snapped out commands and reprimands with the ease of someone who probably lived in a constant state of annoyance. The poor guy at the front desk looked like he was shrinking under her glare. I couldn't blame him. She was intense.

I swallowed my nerves and took another deep breath. Just introduce yourself. Explain what happened.

"Excuse me," I said, my voice a little too soft. She didn't even flinch. Her attention was solely on the trembling receptionist.

I tried again, louder this time. "Excuse m—"

She spun around so fast, I almost jumped.

Holy—

Her eyes locked onto mine, a laser-sharp gaze that could've stopped time.

"And you are?"

For a second, I forgot how to speak.

Up close, she looked like she was in her late forties, but there was something timeless about her fierceness. Her size also didn't matter at all because she had the aura of a bull, and right now, I was standing in its path.

"I—uh—I—" I fumbled for words. "I-I'm Sienna Lar—Bardot, the new aux—"

"You're late."

I straightened, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "I know, I'm sorry. My car—"

"I don't care about your excuses, Selena," her voice was like a whip crack, silencing me on the spot. She shoved a thick notepad into my hands, the weight of it nearly knocking me off balance. "This is a hospital, not a daycare. I expect punctuality and excellence, nothing more, nothing less."

So much for a warm welcome.

"Its... Sienna, ma'am," I corrected, "not Selena."

Her face twisted into a scowl. "It's Selena now. Follow me."

Without another word, she spun on her heel and marched down the hallway, her shoes clicking in a way that made it clear she wasn't about to slow down for anyone, least of all me. I jogged to catch up, my flats squeaking in a way that was significantly less authoritative.

As we walked—well, she walked, I awkwardly speed-walked to keep pace—I tried to take in my surroundings. The hallways all looked the same—white, sterile, and cold—but I mentally mapped the route in my head. At least I wouldn't get lost.

"You're not new to this," she said out of the blue, barely glancing at me. "So I'll skip the pleasantries. You'll be under my watch today, and I expect nothing less than your best."

Her tone made it sound like I was a first-year student who didn't know the difference between a stethoscope and a thermometer. I nodded regardless. "Yes, ma'am."

We turned another corner, and I was starting to wonder if she was leading me to a dungeon when she finally stopped in front of a door marked "Staff Room."

She looked at me with that same tight frow. "Change into your uniform. You're already behind."

"Right," I said, opening the door then I thought. "Wait, how do I know my—"

"The lockers are tagged with names, find yours."

"Oh right, thank—"

She slammed the door on my face. And I stood there for a second, blinking.

Why does it feel like I'd somehow disappointed her without even doing anything yet?

I turned. The staff room smelled like coffee and disinfectant—an oddly comforting mix that I missed so much. I spotted a row of lockers and a small pile of scrubs folded neatly on a bench. My name was scrawled on a Post-it stuck to one of them. That was the only thing remotely welcoming about the day so far.

I grabbed my scrubs. It wasn't exactly a fashion statement—a boxy, pale blue tunic with matching pants that looked a size too big. I quickly changed, trying not to think too much about the terrifying woman waiting for me outside. Of course, as I yanked the scrub top over my head, it got stuck. I wrestled with it for a good ten seconds, flailing like an octopus trying to put on a sweater, before finally managing to pull it on.

I looked in the small mirror by the lockers and winced. The scrubs were two sizes big, making me look like a child playing dress-up, and my hair was sweat-slicked and sticking up in every direction like I'd just rolled out of bed and sprinted through a wind tunnel. Which, in all fairness, wasn't far from the truth. Awesome. I gave my reflection a half-hearted shrug. "It's fine. You're a practicing nurse again. Big clothes, big responsibility."

The door suddenly swung open, making me jolt upright. I glanced up, staring at the young nurse, probably in her late twenties, who poked her head in. She wore a light blue hijab that framed her warm, round face perfectly.

"Assalamualaikum! You're the new nurse, right?" she asked, her voice carrying a soft foreign lilt. "Sienna, is it?"

"Yeah...That's me."

Her deep brown eyes sparkled with a smile that radiated kindness. She stepped fully into the room. "I'm Ayesha! Ayesha Malik. So glad to have someone new around here. We don't get many recruits."

Her lively energy was contagious. I couldn't help but smile back. "Thank you, I'm happy to be here."

Her smile grew even wider. "I saw the ward sister, Mrs. Odette, waiting outside. Don't worry about her, she's scary, but harmless—mostly. Once you get used to her death stare, it's not so bad."

I wasn't sure if that was comforting or just terrifying. Either way, I wasn't about to test the limits of Odette's patience. "Thanks. Good to know." I straightened. "I'll get going now."

"Oh wait," she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen. "You're going to need this. Vital tool of the trade."

I stared at the pen, puzzled. "A pen?"

Was this some kind of initiation ritual?

She nodded solemnly. "Yes. Never lose it. Guard it with your life. If you think Odette is bad, just wait until you meet the nurses who have lost their pens."

"Okay..." I hesitantly accepted the pen and tucked it inside one of my double front pockets. "Thanks again."

She gave me a thumbs-up. "You'll do great. Remember, it's only your first day. The real chaos starts tomorrow."

I wasn't sure if she was joking but I didnt want to think about it. Taking a deep breath, I stepped back into the hallway, where the angry-looking Odette was tapping her foot impatiently. She looked up as I closed the door, her expression as unwelcoming as ever.

"Took you long enough," she snarled, her eyes doing that thing where they scanned me head to toe in about half a second, making me feel even smaller than I already did.

Without another word, she turned and motioned for me to follow her again. The silent treatment was back, along with her brisk pace, and once again, I found myself power-walking like I was late to catch a train.

We walked quickly down the corridors, past patients in wheelchairs and nurses bustling about with trays. The hospital was alive with the usual chaos—machines beeping, phones ringing, the low hum of conversation.

"We'll start with patient rounds," Odette said after what felt like an eternity of hallway. "No slacking."

"Got it."

We entered a patient ward. The sterile smell of the hospital was even stronger here. Beds lined the room, each one occupied by someone either sleeping or reading or just staring at the ceiling. My nerves settled immediately. This was familiar ground. I'd done this a thousand times before.

Odette headed straight for the first bed, where an older man with salt-and-pepper hair sat up, flicking through the channels with a remote. "Mr. Connors, time for your vitals," she said brusquely, not bothering with pleasantries.

I stepped forward, offering Mr. Connors a smile. "Hi, I'm Sienna. I'll be helping out today."

He gave me a look over the top of his glasses, sizing me up. "Another new one, eh? They cycle through here faster than TV shows."

I chuckled, grabbing the blood pressure cuff. "Don't worry, I plan to stick around." I wrapped the cuff around his arm with practiced ease.

Mr. Connors grunted, but his lips twitched like he appreciated the effort. As the cuff inflated, I kept an eye on the reading while Odette scribbled something on her clipboard, although I could see her watching me out of the corner of her eye like she was waiting for me to make a mistake.

"I must say, you've got the most charming smile I've seen in this place."

Caught off guard by the compliment, I looked down at Mr. Connor and grinned. "Thank you."

His lips tugged up. "Are you sure you're not here to steal hearts rather than check vitals?"

I chuckled along with him, aware of Odette watching me with an increasingly irritated expression. "Just here to make sure you're in tip-top shape, Mr. Connors."

His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Well, if your bedside manner is anything to go by, I might just be tempted to stay in bed all day."

I blushed slightly. "You are—"

"Can you concentrate on the task at hand?" Odette suddenly snapped, her voice cutting through the light-hearted moment. "This isn't a social visit. We're here to do a job."

The shift in her tone was like a bucket of cold water. I straightened, my face burning with embarrassment. "Right, of course. Just finishing up here."

Mr. Connors gave me a sympathetic look as I finished taking his blood pressure. "Don't let her get to you, dear. Some folks just don't know how to appreciate a good joke."

I managed a small smile before turning back to Odette. "Vitals are within normal range," I reported, trying to keep my voice steady.

She barely acknowledged the update. "Good. Let's keep moving."