Page 22 of Set Play

The reporters circle me as Niamh and I exit the grocery store, quickly closing in to separate us. Their cameras flash from all angles as I spin, desperate to find an escape.

“What did Henri mean by Reyes hurting you? Can you show us the bruises?”

“Do you know who the other woman is? Do you have anything you want to say to her or Reyes?”

“Leave me alone, please.” My plea goes unanswered as the reporters continue to press in around me.

“Clément, the kiddo in room four has a fractured right ulna. Do you mind setting her up with a cast and care instructions for it?” Dr. Howard calls from the break room’s doorway, jerking me out of my spiraling thoughts.

I blink rapidly, clearing the memory from my mind. It’s been three weeks since the first pictures of Mateo and I surfaced on the internet and for two weeks, everything was relatively quiet. I let myself get comfortable thinking that the worst of it was the occasional fan coming up to ask if I could get my boyfriend to sign something for them.

But that all changed a week ago when the second set of photos were posted: the ones of him with her.

I don’t even know her, but a small petty part of me hates her for looking so comfortable with him. I know it’s irrational. But seriously…how dare he make me feel bad for not telling him about my brother when he didn’t tell me about her!

Dr. Howard clears his throat and knocks on the door frame, looking at me curiously. Merde. Jumping to my feet, I shoot him an apologetic smile. “Of course, doctor. I will gather the supplies for that right now.”

Honestly, I’m grateful for the distraction. Today has been slow at the clinic, which has given my mind way too much time to linger in the past. As I pad down the hall toward room four, I try to keep myself in the present and not to think about all of the horrible headlines and comments, but it is a nearly impossible task.

I wish I had gotten Mateo’s number. If I could just text him, I could figure out a way to get my name the hell out of the story.

After the second wave, I had to sit down with HR and the head doctors at the clinic to explain everything to them after a reporter tried to follow me into the office. I promised them that Mateo was working with his agent to shut it down and clear things up.

If only I was as confident in that as I sounded that day.

They didn’t bother asking if we were a couple, and I didn’t offer any insight on the topic; out of all my present issues, it seemed much more critical to reassure them that this wouldn’t impact my work or follow me into the clinic.

At least I hope it won’t.

As I reach room four, I shake off all thoughts about the pictures and take a deep breath, settling back into nurse mode. With a soft knock, I crack open the door, “Hey there, you ready for me?”

Instead of a child’s soft voice, a smooth baritone invites me into the room. An adorable little girl with the brightest, unruliest, red hair and blue eyes sits in the lap of a tall, muscular man with reddish-brown hair and piercing eyes that match his last name.

What are the odds that Cillian Gray, the Storm’s star defender, came to this clinic? And that I ended up being the nurse assigned this. It’s like the universe heard me wishing for a way to contact Mateo.

Both sets of eyes lock onto me the second the door clicks shut, but my attention zeroes in on my patient. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest?” I kneel down to be at her eye level and give her a gentle smile.

She meets my eyes before offering a coy smile of her own and tucking her face into her dad’s chest. The move is so sweet I can’t help but chuckle quietly as I look up at her dad. I hold out my hand to Cillian. “Hello Mr. Gray, I’m Élise. I’ll be the one to get your daughter’s wrist wrapped up in a cast for that fracture.”

Apprehension flickers in his eyes, but Cillian just gives me a warm smile, “Aye. Thank you.” Dipping his head down to look at the girl in his lap, he brushes back her hair and speaks softly, “Croía, a stóirín, can you let Ms. Élise, look at your wrist?1”

I mentally note the pronunciation of her name so I can say it correctly. Cree-ya. It’s beautiful and reminds me of Niamh’s name. A tiny whimper is her only response, making Cillian tighten his hold on her tiny body.

I give them both a soft smile before I bend down to set a gentle hand on Croía’s knee. “Hey sweet girl. You want to know something? I broke my wrist when I was your age, too.”

Her blue eyes are watery when she snaps her head around to look at me. Sensing I’m making progress with her, I continue my story. “I was so scared about getting a cast on, but once it was there, I ended up having a really fun time with it. Wanna know why?”

Unruly curls fly around as she bobs her head eagerly. I look around, leaning in to whisper the next part like it’s a big secret.

“Well first, my friends all got to sign it, which was super fun! But my favorite part was getting to pick what color I wanted my cast to be: red, pink, blue, purple, and more. Oh, and I got a lollipop for being so brave during the whole process.”

At the mention of candy, the water in her eyes evaporates instantaneously. My eyes flick up to her dad to make sure that it is okay for her to have a lollipop. I hold back my sigh of relief when he gives me a thankful nod.

“Why don’t you come over here and pick the color you want for your cast, Croía? And after that, you can tell me what flavor lollipop you want while I wrap your arm.”

She wiggles in Cillian’s arm until he chuckles and sets her down. With glee in her eyes now instead of fear, Croía grabs me with her good hand and asks in the sweetest voice, “Miss Nurse lady. Can I have more than one color for my cast? I really want it to be blue and white, like Da’s kit.”

“Croía,” Cillian starts to chastise her, but I cut him off with a smile.