Carson stared at his phone screen, thumb hovering over the letters, unsure of what to say. He didn't know this girl, and he'd done his duty checking to make sure she'd made it home unscathed. Did he really want to dive down this rabbit hole? She seemed like she could use someone to talk to. The question was, was it really his responsibility to be that person?

"Doctor Wessex, your daughter is on line two," Patricia said, leaning in the doorway of his small office. "Do you want me to tell her you're on your way? You really should have been gone by now."

He scrubbed his hands down his face and stifled a yawn. "Yes, would you mind? I texted her, but I forgot that her phone is still at the repair shop."

"A seventeen-year-old without her cell phone!" Patricia gasped, putting a hand to her chest in mock outrage. "The humanity!"

He chuckled, shoving his own into the pocket of his lab coat. "Yes, her life is infinitely more difficult than everyone else's."

"I'll let her know," Patricia replied with a little salute. "Seriously though, go home. Doctor Pretentious is already here and if you get caught in conversation you'll be stuck here until your next shift."

Carson shook his head at the mischief twinkling in her eyes. "You really shouldn't call him that," he scolded, but he was already planning his escape route to make it out unseen. The day shift emergency doctor, Jim Bowers, was so high on himself he was painful to talk to.

"He's in room four, scurry out now!" Patricia waved her hand above her head and disappeared into the hallway. Barely a second later, she popped back with a little smirk. "Also, Happy Valentine's Day."

Carson groaned, and she tittered as she headed off down the hallway. As he slipped into his jacket, he unlocked his phone one more time, staring at the girl's message. Instead of answering it, he opened his browser and searched up a local florist.

He scrolled through a few arrangements, deciding on a simple bouquet of a dozen crimson roses. After entering all of his credit card information and the delivery address, it prompted him to add a message to the card.

Happy Valentine's Day, he typed out, and pursed his lips for a moment. He never quite knew what to say to her, these days. He sighed, and signed it, Your Loving Husband.

"I wouldn't worry too much, Mrs. Harper, your son will be just fine." Carson offered the distraught mother a smile. "I'll send the nurse in with something to settle his stomach so that he can sleep, and you just make sure he gets lots of rest and fluids at home. Of course, if his situation changes or you're concerned, please don't hesitate to give us a call, okay?"

Mrs. Harper nodded, sitting down next to the bed holding her pale son. "Thank you," she said hoarsely. "And thank you, for seeing me. I imagine nobody wants to be working on Valentine's Day."

Instead of rolling his eyes, Carson gave her a soft smile. That poker face that doctors and nurses had to master when speaking to patients.

"I'd imagine it's better than having a sick child on Valentine's Day," he said gently, and took his leave. He set his clipboard at the nurse's station and slid it over to Patricia.

"Gotcha, Doc," she said after a cursory glance. "Now go have dinner already, yeah? You probably won't get a chance if you leave it too long."

He nodded, checking his phone. He blinked when he realized he had a text message from someone not in his contact list. Was it the girl from last night? His chest swelled with a mix of concern and curiosity.

He reluctantly stuffed the device back into his pocket and headed off to the cafeteria before someone flagged him down for something.

Carson chose a corner table, even though the cafeteria was fairly deserted at this time of the evening. Before checking the mystery message, he shot off a quick text to his daughter to remind her to let him know when she got home from her date.

Lily: Yes dad THANK you I know!!!

He shook his head, smiling as if he'd heard the words come out of her mouth. Seventeen-year-olds. He flipped over to the other text, and saw it was, as he'd thought, from the mystery girl.

Unknown: You know what's really fucking depressing? Getting stood up on Valentine's Day.

He pursed his lips and picked up his spoon, giving the chicken soup a stir as he contemplated his reply. He still wasn't one hundred percent sure he should engage with this stranger. But then he imagined Lily, sitting in a restaurant, all alone, sad because her date never showed up. The thought made his heart clench, and he typed out, Ouch. You okay?

He hit send and took a small slurp of the chicken soup.

Unknown: Aren't you just a white knight, huh?

He couldn't help but smile. The sass. He already had three sassy women in his life...four, if he counted Patricia. What was one more?

Sorry, I just assumed you texted because you wanted to talk about it, he sent back. He tapped over to add her to his contacts, so he could put some kind of name in. The gentlemanly thing to do would have been to ask her what her name was, but he wasn't sure that a strange middle-aged man should be asking a young woman for her name. At least he assumed she was young, considering her vernacular.

Unsure of how to proceed, he simply typed in Jane. As if on cue, she replied.

Jane: I do and I don't. I don't know why I texted you.

Jane: Actually, I do.

Jane: My husband stood me up, and my only friend is his sister, so I can't really bitch to her about it.

The texts came rapidly, and he ate his soup as he digested the information.

Jane: But like you don't need to listen to a stranger fucking complaining right?

Jane: You should probs just block my number.

Jane: I'm unstable and clingy and annoying.

Carson tore off a piece of his bun and dunked it in the broth. He ignored her self-depreciating texts and typed back, Ah. That is a tough situation. What was his excuse?

Jane: No excuse, he's just not answering his phone.

Jane: At least he made the reservation on his credit card so I can rack up a giant alcohol bill.

He barked a laugh, blushing a little when one of the cafeteria workers glanced at him, her eyebrow raised. He smiled and pointed to the soup bowl, giving a thumbs up, and she nodded, turning back to her work.

You should eat something, too, he sent back.

Jane: Are you my fuckin mother?

Carson blinked at his phone. Sass, indeed.

I'm a doctor, he typed back. Don't drink on an empty stomach.

He mopped up the rest of the broth with the last of his bun while he waited for a reply.

Jane: Sure, doc. What's better, shrimp alfredo or chicken parmesan?

He chewed thoughtfully. At least she'd gotten stood up at a nice restaurant, if those options were any indication.

Pasta will soak up the alcohol better. Wasn't this common knowledge? He wondered just how inexperienced she was. If she was married, she was most likely at least in her twenties. He couldn't help but worry a little about this woman, drinking alone somewhere, when just the night before she'd almost been overrun by a drunk man. Although, it was possible that hadn't been the truth, but something to spur on her friend Alicia to go and get her.

Still, Carson knew the dangers of being a young woman alone in the city. He'd never been a young woman himself, of course, but he'd seen many horrors over his time as a doctor, especially working in the ER. Where was her husband? Especially on Valentine's Day.

Jane: Lol

Jane: I'm just gonna get dessert. Chocolate will help me.

He picked up his egg salad sandwich as he typed back, Scientifically, chocolate stimulates the part of the brain that reacts to love, so it probably will help you emotionally at least.

He took a bite, and wished he had some chocolate. It was Valentine's Day, after all. Maybe he'd treat himself to a candy bar from the vending machine on the way back to work.

Jane: Haha, it's sad that this cake can make me feel more in love than my husband does.

Jane: OMG I'm such a depressing loser. Please block my number.

Jane: You don't need my shit, esp when you probably have vday plans.

Carson shook his head. Depressing loser? He couldn't help but feel a pang in his own chest. He wondered if his wife had even looked at the roses he'd sent her.

He pictured what it would be like, sitting in a nice restaurant with this mystery girl, exchanging banter over a delicious dinner, focusing on one another instead of literally anything else that could distract people.

I'm actually working tonight, he sent back. Despite her wearing her heart on her sleeve, he didn't think he needed to be getting into his own bag of worms right now.

Jane: Lol all work and no play for the doctor. You standing up your wife right now?

Without thinking, he typed out She won't mind. She's probably screwing her boyfriend right now. As soon as his thumb hit send, his eyes widened and he gaped at the phone. Hadn't he just decided not to get into his own drama? He immediately wished he could delete it, take it back, but her three little dots already hovered. She'd seen it.