"Hey, checking in," Becca's message said. "The party is around the corner! Just wanted to make sure—" I deleted the message before it finished. Who left voicemails anymore? While slipping on my shoe with one hand, I called her back with the other.

"Hey, Sabs!"

"Hey. Sorry I missed your call, things have been a little hectic at work."

"Don't worry, I get it. How's the planning coming? Did you need anything from me?"

"No, we should be good," I let out a heavy sigh, "The RSVPs aren't coming in as quick as I expected, but I planned to order extra of everything anyway."

"Are you okay?" she asked me. "You sound off."

Well, I'm lonely, I'm sad, I possibly ruined my relationship with the only consistent person I had in my life. "No, it's fine. My patient is going through it so I'm kind of going through it too."

"I can't believe you agreed to be on a cancer case. Like you didn't have enough stress before."

"I know. I'm a glutton for punishment, I guess."

"Well, tell him he needs to let you sleep. You can't look after him all day and all night. You have to squeeze some fun in there somewhere. Maybe naked fun, too." I closed my eyes and groaned away from the speaker. "A little birdie told me Max is still available."

"I think I've burned that bridge well enough."

"Oh, come on. He's a great—" She stopped short. A voice in the distance mumbled something. "Hey, I have to go. See you soon, okay? Kisses." She hung up before I could respond. Not that I would have. All of her reminders did nothing to help my mood.

I finished slipping my shoes on and left the changing room.

It was Ziggy's chemo day again and I dreaded seeing him. Any disappointment he felt after that night would have paled in comparison to the disappointment I had in myself.

Theresa found me as I walked past the station. "Mr. Ziegler already went down. Did you not see him?"

"He went down by himself?"

"He said he was feeling better, so I let him take himself. The exercise will be good for him anyway."

He was feeling better, sure, but he was also avoiding me. I sighed and make my way downstairs.

In the treatment room, my jaw dropped at what I saw. Ziggy smiled as he sat with the circle of women. Perched on an ottoman right in the middle of Mae, Ellie, and Vicky, he joined in their chatter as if they had been his friends all along. The loner no longer alone.

I walked over and eyed the suspicious scene. "How are you all doing today?" I asked them.

"We're great, nurse Brennan. How are you?" Vicky answered. Always the mom of the group despite being the youngest.

"I'm . . . fine."

"We were surprised to see this one here all by himself," Vicky said, patting Ziggy's knee. "We appreciate you letting us borrow the eye candy." Ziggy laughed.

"I'll leave you alone to drool then," I joked through my anger. When I turned around, I sneered. I expected him to find a way to punish me, as he should have, but I did not like the way it felt.

I sat near the nurse's station, planning to review the digital files while I waited.

"You two would make a cute couple," Mae said, thinking she was whispering. I pretended like I couldn't hear

"They would!" Ellie agreed. "What's keeping you two, beautiful people from living out your youth while you have it?"

"It's not from lack of trying on my part, I promise," he said.

"You should take her on a date when you get out of here."

"I would but . . .I don't know if I'll be getting out of here at all." I glared at my tablet rather than him.

"Oh, that's some bullshit," Ellie said. "Vicky's a twenty-percenter, Mae's a thirty-three-percenter, I'm a fifty-percenter," she said, meaning she had a fifty-percent chance she wouldn't survive her cancer. That was a term that started here. Referring to oneself by one's statistical mortality rate. I hated it with every fiber of my being. I look up to watch Ziggy's reaction. "You can't be worse off than me," Mae challenged him.

"I can," he said with a sad grin. "I'm an eighty-five-percenter."

The ladies were taken aback. None could seem to find the words to respond. A painful rarity.

"Well," Mae ended the silence. "If someone has to be part of the fifteen, it better be a hot piece of ass like you." Ziggy let out a robust laugh. I grabbed my earbuds and let Banks take me away into a dark, indie trance. I left him to talk with his new friends.

I was zoning out watching a new music video when Ziggy leaned into my peripheral. I pulled out my earbuds. "Ready to go?" I asked.

He hummed a yes. He still wasn't talking to me.

Ziggy seems fine to walk. I let him but kept a watchful eye. We decided to take the oncology wing elevator so we could cross the skywalk. I tapped the button and waited in silence.

When the wait time stretched to an awkward length, I couldn't keep myself from breaking the silence. "You seem to be in a better mood today," I say to him. He didn't respond. "I thought you would still be mad at me."

"Mad? No. Disappointed maybe." The doors opened and we stepped inside.

I looked over at him. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. He was so confusing. One minute he hated me, the next he was teasing me again. Maybe it was his special brand of friendship, but it still felt like I should apologize for flipping our inappropriate script.

The doors open to the top floor and we walked out. When his pace was slow, I wrapped my arm around his middle, still not trusting that he wouldn't pass out on me. He draped an arm over my shoulder. We let the silence stretch between us until we reached the solitude of the skywalk.

"I'm sorry," I said once we make it through the automatic doors.

"For what?"

"For hurting you. Or, disappointing you, I guess." I stared down at the floor in shame. "You know I care for you, Ziggy," I tell him. "I don't want to ruin the relationship we have."

"What kind of relationship do we have, exactly?"

"A professional one. A trusting one." I stopped him and turned around the face him. He leaned his hip against the rail and peered down at me. "I think I gave you the wrong impression, and I apologize for that. All of this is getting messy," I admitted. "I'm obviously attracted to you . . . but there has to be a line of professionalism between us."

"So if we make out and feel each other up every few days, are we drawing the line at sex, or . . . ?"

"Ziggy . . ." I sighed with frustration and embarrassment.

"I'm really not trying to be a prick." I looked at him and saw his sincerity. "But you have to admit you're giving me mixed signals."

"I don't mean to give you mixed signals about anything. It's just . . ." I didn't know how to get into all the fucked up shit from my past without scaring him off completely. "You matter to me, and I want to be there for you, Ziggy," I told him. "But only as your nurse."

He digested my words for a moment. "Okay," he said simply.

I didn't want to leave it in such a harsh place, so I felt the need to explain myself more. "I am here first and foremost to help get you through this. Getting too close can keep someone from making the best medical decisions—it's the same reason we aren't allowed to treat family." Saying that made the sadness well up inside me, but I fought past the lump building in my throat. "It isn't fair for me not to be at the top of my game when you need me the most."

"I know. I understand completely."

"You do?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I told you I would need you through all this. But it doesn't stop me from wanting you, too."

"You've been sick for a while, and I have always been here for you. I will always be here for you. Transference is common in these types of situations," I explained. "I don't think you actually want me. You just want someone."

He looked at me and laughed. "I know what transference is, Sabine. That's not what this is."

"Then what is it?"

He smiled and then looked off into the distance. "It's just old-fashioned falling in love."

My eyes widened as I stared at him, but he looked unfazed. He stepped past me and walked through the doors at the end of the hall. After a moment, I came to my senses and followed him.