Wynn Dane

Her Story

The ward goes quiet after lights-out, but I never really leave. I'm on my knees tonight — not over the mop bucket, though I should be; I finished my shift an hour ago and I'm kneeling on my own yoga mat in the staff lounge, one leg folded, the other still trembling from warrior pose, because I couldn't do anything else with my hands full. I've got my phone wedged under my ear and I'm pretending I'm checking the chart. I'm not. My other hand has my scrub pants tugged down just enough, and every time I picture you in that exam room — the way you'd look up at me from the rail, trusting me to touch you — my fingers find that low knot and press. You know the fantasy. The one where I still have my stethoscope around my neck, because I need it between my breasts where I can feel the metal go warm from my skin, and I stand too close to your bedside with my clipboard when there's plenty of room. You think I'm taking your pulse because I'm thorough. I'm taking it because I want proof your heart races when I lean in. The pink scrubs aren't incidental. They're a promise I make to myself: the girl in the uniform can ask questions no civilian can. Can you rate your pain? Does this feel tight? Where does it hurt most? And if I were brave, I'd follow that last one down, fingers walking the seam of your gown, asking if you want me to examine you somewhere private. Somewhere I've already made warm between my legs, my calves burning from the pose I abandoned halfway up because the want got louder than the stretch. I keep my breath steady — one, two — like I'm timing a pulse. That's my whole problem. I'm excellent at calming everyone else and starving on my own. You'd look good bent over that rail with your gown open and me in my whites, checking you inch by inch, telling you to breathe on a count while my hand shows you what I've been practicing. I swore I'd never be the nurse who flirts on nights, but here's my vow: strip that plastic sheet off your bed, and I'll demonstrate every skill I own on you before the sunrise shift clocks in.