I hurried to the open window and pulled it shut.
The wind outside was howling, forcing its way through the narrow gap until the curtains whipped wildly around the room. Uncle Alan or Pippa must have forgotten to close it early. Thankfully, nothing important had fallen. Otherwise, it would've been a real loss.
Uncle Alan collected vintage knickknacks and scattered them throughout his flat. There were some vases he had carried all the way from Hong Kong, and the old grandfather clock he kept beside the desk near the window that had nearly tipped when the window swung open.
I steadied it carefully before stepping back.
Only then did I realize Marcus hadn't moved.
He still stood by the kitchen doorway, watching me.
His hands hung awkwardly at his sides, as if he had no idea what to do with them. Almost as though the moment between us had caught him just as off guard.
"I'm going to wash up," I said, clearing my throat as I looked at anywhere but his eyes. My voice coming out tighter than I intended. "It's been a long day, and I haven't—well."
The words trailed off uselessly. The only sound in the room was the wind, rattling faintly against the glass. And the quiet awareness of Marcus, watching me silently.
I turned quickly and hurried down the hallway back to Pippa's bedroom. Since I hadn't brought any clothes with me, I grabbed a shirt and a pair of sweatpants from her dressed before slipping into the bathroom and locking the door behind me.
It wasn't until the sharp click of the lock echoed in the small space that I finally allowed myself to breathe.
God, what was that?
I leaned both hands against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My chestnut hair was disheveled, my lips still swollen from the kiss and my pulse hadn't even slowed down in the slightest.
That was a close call.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head.
I needed to stop this before it spiraled into something forbidden. Marcus was still technically my patient. Whatever had just happened between us, it went against every code of conduct I had ever been taught.
It was wrong. But why did it felt so right?
That's it.
Tomorrow morning, I would leave him here with Uncle Alan. I would drive back to St.Albans, return the car to Dr. Madakwe, to the hospital, and pretend this strange, impossible day had never happened.
Everything would go back to normal.
If only my heart would stop racing long enough to believe it.
By the time morning rolled around, I had spent most of the night tossing and turning in bed, sleep refusing to come until the remnants of my exhaustion finally dragged me under.
When I woke again, pale sunlight had already begun filtering through the curtains.
Pippa was gone by the time I climbed out of the bed. So I changed back into my scrubs from yesterday since they were the only clothes I had, doing my best to tame my bedraggled hair before stepping out into the hallway.
The smell of sizzling bacon drifted toward me almost immediately.
"Dude, you're finally awake!" Pippa exclaimed the moment I walked into the living room.
Marcus was sitting at the dining table across from her, a small bunch of grapes in his hand. He was chewing on one whilst staring at the hearty English breakfast laid out before him with hesitation.
"Good morning, Pippa," I said with a smile, grabbing a seat next to her.
Uncle Alan sat beside Marcus, gesturing enthusiastically as he explained something to him in Latin, occasionally pointing toward the bacon or the toast as if presenting items in a museum exhibit.
Marcus responded in Latin, his tone thoughtful, which caused Uncle Alan to chuckle.
Pippa leaned closer to me, lowering her voice. "I can't believe the day has come when my father is explaining the origins of English breakfast," she whispered, "and somehow relating it to the food people ate during the Roman Empire."
I tilted my head toward her, unable to hide my amusement.
"Honestly," I murmured, "I never thought I'd see it either."
"So," Pippa continued, her eyes drifting over my outfit, "why are you still wearing your scrubs? Don't tell me you have a shift today. On a Sunday, no less."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "But I should probably head back soon. I need to return the car to—"
"Nonsense!" Uncle Alan interrupted suddenly.
Then Uncle Alan cleared his throat.
"My apologies for that," he said with a sheepish smile. "I tend to get carried away. It has simply been a very long since something like this...happened."
"Uncle Alan, with all due respect—"
"You're staying for the day," he cut in firmly. "At the very least. You haven't even heard the plan we've come up with yet. And besides, Samuel came by yesterday to pick up the car, so you're quite out of excuses to leave, Ms.Wright."
"This has nothing to do with me," I protested. "I have a shift on Monday—"
"Marcus needs his nurse."
Both Marcus and I looked up at the same time, equally startled.
"His wound hasn't fully healed," Uncle Alan continued calmly. "And I've already informed Samuel that you won't be returning to the hospital for a few days."
My mouth fell open. "You did what?"
"There's a schedule—patients—"
"We need you," he said, his tone turning serious now. "I mean that, Elena. I would not have pulled you out of your life otherwise."
A heavy silence settled over the table.
"What could you possibly need me for?" I asked slowly.
Uncle Alan hesitated.
Then he leaned back slightly in his chair, studying me in a way that suddenly made my stomach twist.
"Well, for one thing," he said, "did you know that you're adopted?"
Pippa's hand slipped into mine underneath the table.
"And did you know," Uncle Alan continued quietly, "that you weren't exactly meant to be from this time?"