Chapter 34 Chapter 0034
•AMELIA•
I was already standing at the sink when Dante walked into the theater. My hands froze under the stream of water as I looked at him.
The hospital was full of handsome doctors, men with sharp jawlines and easy smiles, but Dante existed on an entirely different plane.
There was a quiet confidence about him that made the air feel heavier whenever he entered a room, as though the world shifted slightly to accommodate his presence.
I watched him through the corner of my eye, taking in the way his shoulders filled his scrubs and how his gaze remained focused and purposeful, never wandering unless there was a reason.
It was impossible not to imagine what he would be like behind closed doors, impossible not to picture those intense eyes softening in private.
And yet, no matter how many times I tried to catch his attention, he never looked at me the way I wanted him to. His attention belonged to her.
Cassandra.
He followed her around the hospital, picking her up when her rounds ended late and bringing her lunch on days she barely had time to breathe.
He did it so casually that people barely noticed anymore, but I noticed every single time. Worse still, he was helping her raise her daughter, stepping into a role that should've made any sensible man hesitate.
The child was another man’s responsibility, a reminder that the father could come back one day to reclaim his place, yet Dante accepted it without complaint.
None of it seemed to bother him.
What bothered me was that he never once noticed me.
I might as well have been invisible, and the realization sat painfully in my chest.
I wanted him to look at me the way he looked at Cassandra, with that quiet devotion and unspoken understanding.
I wanted to be the one he waited for at the end of a shift.
“Oh my God, am I the only one who’s already exhausted?” Christy groaned as she joined me at the sink, leaning against the counter with a dramatic sigh.
Her voice pulled me back to the present. I cleared my throat and turned my attention fully to my hands, forcing myself to look away from Dante before my staring became obvious.
“Yeah, it’s been a long shift,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “Are you here to assist Dante with surgery?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she replied. “Nancy asked me to cover for her, but I would honestly rather hide in the restroom and steal a few minutes of sleep.”
The opportunity presented itself so suddenly that my heart skipped a beat. “I can cover for you,” I offered without hesitation. “Dr. Francis’s surgery ended earlier than expected, and I’m scheduled to work in the theater all week anyway.”
Christy studied me for a moment, concern flickering across her face. “Are you sure, Dr. Hart? You’ve been on your feet all day. I don’t want to dump my work on you if you need rest.”
She wasn’t wrong. My feet throbbed, and a familiar ache pulsed through my lower back, but none of that mattered. Not when this was my chance.
“I’m sure,” I replied, already reaching for gloves. “The emergency wing can manage without me for a few hours. You go rest.”
Relief washed over her features as she smiled and thanked me before leaving.
As soon as she disappeared down the hall, my thoughts drifted somewhere else, filled with images of what my life could look like if Dante were mine.
I had never seen him overly affectionate with Cassandra, which only fueled my belief that they were little more than close friends who spent too much time together.
If that was true, then there was still room for me.
Once Dante became mine, Cassandra would be nothing more than a memory.
The surgery began smoothly. Dante moved with practiced precision, his voice calm as he issued instructions that everyone followed without question.
I assisted where needed, hyperaware of his presence beside me and the occasional brush of his arm against mine.
Each small contact sent a thrill through me, even though he seemed completely unaware of it.
I found myself seeking reasons to speak, asking questions I already knew the answers to just to hear him respond.
When he glanced in my direction, even briefly, my heart raced, and I convinced myself that his eyes lingered longer than necessary.
I straightened my posture, adjusted my grip, and made sure every movement was flawless, hoping he would notice my competence as much as Cassandra’s.
Time slipped by as the procedure neared its conclusion. The room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of machines and Dante’s measured breathing.
I could feel the moment slipping away, the chance dissolving as the surgery came to an end and we returned to our separate worlds.
Panic flared.
Before I could overthink it, I shifted and let out a sharp gasp, clutching my wrist as if something had gone terribly wrong.
“Dante,” I said, my voice tight with feigned pain. “I think I hurt myself.”
He turned immediately, concern flashing across his face as he stepped closer. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, wincing as I held my wrist. “It just started hurting really badly.”
He examined me quickly, his touch firm but careful. “We’re almost done here,” he said, then looked over at another doctor. “Finish closing. I’ll take Dr. Hart to the emergency wing and have her checked out.”
For a brief moment, guilt stirred in my chest, but it was quickly overshadowed by triumph.
He was paying attention to me now, guiding me out of the theater with his hand lightly supporting my elbow.
As we walked down the corridor toward the emergency wing, I focused on the steady sound of his footsteps beside mine and the undeniable truth that, for once, I had all of Dante’s attention exactly where I wanted it.