Chapter 2 - THE RED DOOR
The first time Aiden Chambers returned to Northlake Medical Center, he brought a broken coffee machine.
Not flowers.
Not diamonds.
Not the expensive gifts I suspected men like him usually gave women.
An actual coffee machine.
It was eleven thirty on a Thursday morning.
I was restocking examination gloves when Dr. Martinez appeared in the doorway.
"Tessa, there's a man asking for you."
"Is he bleeding?"
"No."
"Vomiting?"
"No."
"Having chest pain?"
"No."
"Then why is he in the emergency department?"
Elena folded her arms.
"He says he's here to apologize to the nursing staff."
I frowned.
"For what?"
"He claims his coffee machine attacked him."
I closed my eyes.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding."
When I reached the waiting area, Aiden stood beside an enormous stainless-steel espresso machine.
Marcus waited near the entrance, looking as though he'd rather face a firing squad.
Aiden wore a black sweater and dark trousers.
His injured hand was bandaged properly.
When he saw me, his mouth curved.
"Miss Parker."
I stared at the machine.
"What is that?"
"Evidence."
"Of what?"
"Attempted murder."
Despite myself, I laughed.
Aiden's smile widened.
The receptionist looked between us as though she'd entered an alternate universe.
I lowered my voice.
"You can't bring a coffee machine into an emergency room."
"I understand that now."
"Why did you bring it?"
"I promised you it would be investigated."
"Are you always this ridiculous?"
"Only when I'm nervous."
The answer surprised me.
Aiden Chambers was nervous because of me?
He glanced toward the machine.
"I actually came to ask whether the hospital accepts equipment donations."
"Not through the emergency department."
"I figured that out when security threatened to call the police."
"They threatened you?"
"Very politely."
I laughed again.
He looked pleased with himself.
Then his expression grew serious.
"About Lily."
My smile faded.
He noticed immediately.
"I haven't accessed any more information. I wanted you to know that."
"Good."
"And I arranged for the hospital's foundation to receive an unrestricted donation. They can distribute it according to their policies."
"That was unnecessary."
"I know."
I studied him.
"Why do you keep helping?"
He looked away.
For several seconds, he watched a young father carry a sleeping toddler through the lobby.
Then he said, "Because someone should have helped my brother."
I went still.
"Your brother?"
Aiden's jaw tightened.
"Forget I said that."
I could have pushed.
I didn't.
Instead, I gestured toward the vending machines.
"Would you like coffee?"
He looked at his bandaged hand.
"Are you sure that's safe?"
"Only if I make it."
For the next fifteen minutes, the most feared man in Seattle sat beside me in a hospital cafeteria drinking terrible vending-machine coffee.
He asked about nursing school.
I told him I was finishing prerequisites while working toward my degree.
He asked whether I liked emergency medicine.
I told him I loved it and hated how exhausted it made me.
I asked whether he enjoyed his work.
He considered that for a long time.
"No."
The honesty startled me.
"Then why do it?"
"Because I inherited responsibilities I didn't choose."
"That sounds miserable."
"It can be."
He looked at me.
"What would you do if money weren't a problem?"
The question felt almost insulting.
Money was always a problem.
Lily needed ongoing treatment.
Mom had stopped working full-time to care for her.
I worked nights because they paid more.
Still, I thought about it.
"I'd finish nursing school without worrying about tuition."
"Then?"
"I'd take Lily to the ocean."
Aiden blinked.
"The ocean?"
"She's never seen it in person."
His expression changed.
"That's all?"
I shrugged.
"She likes collecting pictures of tide pools. She knows more about starfish than anyone I've ever met."
For some reason, Aiden looked deeply affected.
Then he asked, "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"What do you want?"
I opened my mouth.
And realized I didn't know.
For years, my life had revolved around keeping Lily healthy.
I'd stopped making plans that didn't involve her.
Aiden seemed to understand my silence.
"You deserve something too," he said.
I looked down.
"Maybe later."
He shook his head gently.
"People always think later is guaranteed."
Something in his voice made me look up.
He was staring at his injured hand.
Two weeks later, Lily was admitted for complications related to her kidney disease.
It wasn't the first hospitalization.
But that didn't make it easier.
Her blood pressure was unstable.
Her nephrologist wanted additional tests.
My mother was exhausted.
I spent nearly thirty hours between Lily's room and the hospital corridor, surviving on vending-machine sandwiches and coffee.
On the second evening, Lily asked about the man she'd seen on television.
"Aiden Chambers."
I looked up.
"What about him?"
"Isn't that the guy who came to your hospital?"
I frowned.
"How do you know?"
"Mom told me a rich guy tried to donate a coffee machine."
I laughed.
"She wasn't supposed to tell you that."
Lily grinned.
"Is he handsome?"
"Lily."
"What? I have eyes."
"You're fifteen."
"Exactly. Old enough to recognize a good jawline."
I threw a pillow at her.
She caught it and laughed.
For a brief moment, she looked like any ordinary teenager.
Then the smile faded.
"Tess?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think I'll ever get a transplant?"
I moved closer.
"That's what we're working toward."
"But what if it takes years?"
I took her hand.
"Then we'll take things one day at a time."
She looked toward the window.
"I don't want you spending your whole life taking care of me."
My throat tightened.
"Lily—"
"I mean it. You're twenty. You're supposed to have boyfriends and go to parties and do stupid things."
I smiled sadly.
"I do stupid things."
"Working double shifts isn't what I mean."
I leaned my forehead against hers.
"You're not stopping me from living."
She whispered, "Sometimes I think I am."
I held her tighter.
And silently promised that if she ever got the chance to live without hospital machines, I would take her anywhere she wanted.
Even if I had to work every night for the next decade.
At midnight, I walked downstairs to buy coffee.
Aiden was standing in the lobby.
My stomach dropped.
"What are you doing here?"
He looked surprised to see me.
"Marcus mentioned your sister was admitted."
I folded my arms.
"How does Marcus know that?"
"He saw you when he brought his mother for an appointment."
I narrowed my eyes.
Aiden held up both hands.
"I didn't ask anyone to check her records."
I studied him.
Then noticed the small paper bag he carried.
"What's that?"
He looked almost embarrassed.
"A gift."
"For me?"
"No."
He handed it over.
Inside was a book.
The Hidden Life of Tide Pools.
I stared at it.
"I remembered what you said about Lily."
My eyes filled unexpectedly.
Aiden looked alarmed.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No."
"Then why are you crying?"
I laughed through tears.
"Because nobody ever remembers the little things."
He stood very still.
Then said, "I do."
Lily adored the book.
She made me read three chapters aloud.
Then asked whether she could meet the man who bought it.
I refused.
Aiden wasn't exactly someone I wanted around my little sister.
But the following afternoon, Marcus arrived with a note.
Aiden says the author is giving a talk at the Seattle Aquarium next month. He thought Lily might enjoy it when she's well enough.
No expectations.
I smiled despite myself.
When I called Aiden to thank him, he answered immediately.
"Did she like it?"
"She loved it."
"I'm glad."
I hesitated.
"Would you ever consider having dinner with me?"
The question escaped before I could stop it.
Silence.
Then Aiden said, "Tessa, are you asking me on a date?"
My cheeks burned.
"Forget it."
"No."
His voice changed.
"Please don't take it back."
I sat down.
"Then yes."
He exhaled.
"There's something I need to tell you first."
"What?"
"I'm not good at being close to people."
"I noticed."
"It's worse than you think."
I looked at the hospital corridor.
"Aiden, dinner isn't a marriage proposal."
A strange silence followed.
Then he laughed.
A real laugh.
Warm and surprised.
"No," he said.
"It certainly isn't."
Neither of us knew how wrong that statement would become.
Our first dinner took place at a small restaurant overlooking Lake Union.
Aiden chose a quiet corner table.
No photographers.
No entourage inside.
Marcus waited outside.
Aiden arrived early and stood when I approached.
He didn't reach for my hand.
Instead, he asked whether I'd like him to take my coat.
The question made me smile.
During dinner, we talked about everything except his criminal reputation.
He liked old jazz records.
He hated olives.
He could cook exactly three meals.
He remembered the names of every employee at his shipping company.
And he had never been on a roller coaster.
"You're kidding," I said.
"No."
"Why?"
"I don't enjoy situations where someone else controls whether I survive."
I stopped laughing.
He noticed.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize."
He stared at his plate.
Then I asked gently, "What happened to your brother?"
The change was immediate.
His shoulders stiffened.
His breathing became shallow.
I regretted the question.
"You don't have to tell me."
He closed his eyes.
For several seconds, I thought he might leave.
Instead, he whispered, "His name was Noah."
"Was?"
Aiden nodded.
"He disappeared when he was eight."
My chest tightened.
"I'm sorry."
Aiden looked out at the dark water.
"Everyone told me he ran away."
"Did you believe them?"
"No."
"Why?"
His face became completely still.
"Because I heard him screaming behind a red door."
I felt cold.
"The photograph?"
He turned sharply.
"What photograph?"
"The one Marcus showed you at the hospital. I saw a red door."
Aiden stared at me.
Then slowly lowered his head.
"Someone sent me a picture of Noah."
"Recently?"
"Yes."
"Does that mean he might be alive?"
Aiden's expression held a terrible mixture of hope and fear.
"I don't know."
Then he looked at me.
"But whoever sent it knows something nobody outside my family should know."
I reached across the table, stopping before my fingers touched his.
"Do you want me to hold your hand?"
He stared at my open palm.
His breathing quickened.
For one awful second, I thought I'd hurt him.
Then he whispered, "Not yet."
I nodded.
"Okay."
His shoulders slowly relaxed.
And for the first time that evening, he looked at me without fear.
May you like
Not because I'd touched him.
Because I hadn't.
