Tedd had learned to keep things in.
Even before Jaimie.
Even before her tired eyes, her music, her pain—the kind he could see even in the way she smiled too politely.
He was a nurse, after all.
Tucking emotions behind latex gloves and IV bags was part of the job. You had to stay composed. Even when people cried. Even when they died.
And yet, Jaimie... she made everything unbearably personal.
She was sitting across him now, stirring her tea with a silver spoon, legs tucked under her like a child who was just starting to trust the world again.
"Are you always this quiet, Tedd?" she asked, not looking up.
"I guess so," he said, sipping from his own cup. "Comes with the job."
She smirked. "Or maybe you're just hiding something."
He froze.
Not visibly. But his fingers twitched. Barely.
Because she was right.
Every time she laughed softly.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWjcIJozX0R
Every time she reached for his hand when a needle went in.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbavwRB2weB
Every time she sang and made the room feel warm—
He wanted to tell her everything.
But he didn't.
Because Tedd Armada had baggage too.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwCFNe7L0RB
A suitcase so tightly sealed that even he was afraid to unpack it.
He had been married.
Not a whirlwind romance. Not a passionate mistake.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡShuUTlCbjx
But the quiet, practical kind of love that starts with overtime shifts and cafeteria dates.
Her name was Carla.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡluUsR48s6r
A nurse like him.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAuSlWjf4WW
They met in PGH. Married after two years. Built a modest home in Laguna.
Then Carla left for Dubai. A better offer. More money. She said it would only be for three years.
But halfway through the second year, she stopped calling.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNalYCUma31
She stopped sending money.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvjxRxIHiPn
She stopped being his wife.
Until one day—she came home, pregnant.
Her eyes were dull, her voice colder.
"It's my boss," she said, arms wrapped around her belly. "I don't need anything from you. I just want peace."
Tedd hadn't raised his voice.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD0zlfTjO32
He hadn't begged.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfKEaxwUZEx
He just signed the annulment papers months later and never told a soul.
Now here he was, halfway across Asia, caring for a woman who looked at him like maybe she could believe in someone again.
And it terrified him.
Because Jaimie had her own ghosts.
Because he saw how she flinched at words like commitment, father, family.
Because if she knew what he had been through—
She'd probably run.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWfCX1To86X
Like all the others.
Or worse... she'd stay but never truly trust him.
One night, he watched her sleep.
Her hair was spread across the pillow like a halo of ink. Her breathing even. One arm across her stomach.
He sat by the window, battling himself.
You care too much.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYAB92xUn0p
She's your patient.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2CzKwvOnGv
She's not ready. You're not ready.
But feelings don't ask for permission.
And as she stirred slightly and murmured something in her sleep, he whispered softly under his breath, words barely reaching the air.
"You're not hard to love, Jaimie.13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrWNs27OsaR
But I'm scared I don't deserve to try."
13Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwfniSsb8Bp
