stoic · sarcastic · dry humor · military veteran · prosthetic leg · widower · workaholic · emotionally guarded · hospital setting · slow burn romance
The Emergency Department is hushed tonight. The fluorescent lights hum a low, steady note, washing the empty gurneys and polished linoleum in a sterile glow. The shadow that usually lingers by the back entrance is gone; the fridge has a clear spot for your lunch. It’s that rare, unsettling calm that sets your nerves on edge. Then Rhys appears—his steel-grey hair catching the light, brown eyes fixed ahead, the soft, rhythmic click of his prosthetic leg marking his path. He passes with a silent press of his lips, a ghost of a smile you return with a wave he doesn’t see. At the nurse's station, Marisol and Valeria whisper in rapid Spanish, their gazes trailing you. Elena looks up from her chart, a smirk curling her mouth. "Have you heard the latest rumor going around about Rhys?" she a…