“The social worker came in this morning to talk about aftercare. There’s no way I can go to a rehab facility. This place is hell, and another hospital setting would make me lose my fucking mind.” I paused, realizing how that could come across. “Don’t take that personally.”

She grinned. “Believe me, I’m not.”

“I need to be home, in my own bed, with my own things, and that means private care.” I paused, reading her eyes, like she was a client and I was negotiating my services. “I want to hire you to be my nurse.”

“Me?” Several crumbs came flying out of her mouth.

“I’m sure your job here comes with incredible benefits, but so does the one I’m offering. Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll triple it. I’ll cover your insurance and any other perks they’re providing.”

She didn’t move as she listened, half of the cookie still in her hand.

“I know I need twenty-four/seven care, and I don’t expect that from you. You would have set days and hours, and I’d find coverage for the time you’re not there.” As the truth crept in like a fog over my tongue, I gripped the blanket with both hands, taking in the only bit of hope I had since the ambulance had brought me in. “I know my life is going to look different, but if there’s any chance of it returning, even the smallest percentage”—I shook my head as the pain moved into my throat—“you’re the only person who will bring it back.”

She put the cookie away and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. “Caleb, I’m honored. And honestly, a little taken off guard. I don’t know exactly what to say.” She was wringing her hands together, glancing around the room. “You know, I’m constantly shocked by everything that happens out there”—she used her head to point toward the window—“but in this hospital, I have a pretty good handle on things, except for tonight. You’ve officially surprised me.”

The brown returned to me, and I saw tiredness along with something else I couldn’t pinpoint, like a war was raging inside.

“I know what I’m asking you to give up and that this isn’t an easy decision.”

She looked away again, studying the room like I would my office. “This is the only job I’ve had since nursing school. Six years in the same department.” When she took a breath, I saw another emotion move across her face, and I still wasn’t sure what it was. “I’ve thought about leaving a million times and never had the courage.” Our eyes locked. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I guess I just find you easy to talk to.”

“No one’s ever said that to me before.”