Shirley Miller’s mind had mostly recovered to clarity, but her body had not returned to normal, still limp and weak, unable to muster any strength.
Shirley tried to hold it in, to endure, but it had been quite a long time since her last trip to the restroom, and she had two large IV bags infused, so when the urge to urinate came crashing in like an avalanche, how could she possibly hold it back?
Shirley instinctively squeezed her legs together, clenching her teeth and putting up a fierce resistance.
Her slight movements caught the attention of Carson Flores, who was looking at his phone. The moment he looked up and saw her tightened legs and flushed face, as a doctor, he instantly understood.
"Need to use the restroom?"
Shirley, with her face beet red, dared not open her eyes and hummed a confirmation.
"Can you move by yourself?"
Shirley replied softly, "No strength."
Those three short words seemed to drain all her courage, turning her face as red as a piece of scarlet cloth.
Carson hesitated, "You can’t hold it in, the bladder can easily develop problems, and I guess you don’t want to wet the bed. How about I carry you to the toilet, is that okay?"
Shirley’s neck was now also red, but she really couldn’t hold it any longer.
Carson lifted Shirley in a princess carry into the restroom and set her on the toilet, noticing her arms just dangling weakly, he realized asking her to handle it alone was impossible.
"In case of emergency, pardon me."
Shirley was wearing a skirt. Carson propped her with one leg, flipped the back of her skirt up to her waist, and then pulled down her underwear.
Since the front of her skirt provided cover, nothing was exposed during the process, but Carson’s hands unavoidably came into contact with Shirley’s waist and the outside of her thighs.
The skin was smooth and delicate, but with a doctor’s mindset, Carson didn’t think any further.
Carson settled Shirley on the toilet and even carefully arranged the front of her skirt to prevent exposure.
"All set, I’ll wait outside for you, call me when you’re done..."
As Carson stood up to leave, a hurried sound of running water had already begun, and Shirley sat with her eyes closed, her face filled with embarrassment and despair.
Carson silently left the room.
After a while, the sound of the water slowly decreased, eventually returning to silence. Then, after quite some time, Shirley called out in a voice so shy it was almost trembling, "Done!"
Carson entered, pressed the flush button, and to avoid awkwardness, he didn’t help Shirley pull up her underwear but simply lifted her by the waist, letting the skirt fall back into place, and then carried her straight back to the bed.
Shirley’s breathing was rapid, her face and neck a crimson hue.
How would she face Carson after this?
Carson himself settled on the makeshift bed on the floor, "I’m turning off the lights, don’t overthink, have a good sleep, and everything will be back to normal when you wake up. If you need anything, call me, I am a doctor, there’s no need to be embarrassed."
The room plunged into darkness, with only the faint moonlight from outside spilling in through the window.
The darkness gave Shirley a place to hide, and she gradually calmed down. Although she still felt incredibly complicated, at last, she didn’t have to face Carson directly.
Carson, half asleep, was suddenly awakened by the sound of tissue being pulled.
He turned his head and saw Shirley sitting up in bed in the dark, her head resting on her knees, holding a tissue, wiping her eyes.
Carson silently sighed. This whole week, Shirley had been working overtime every day, constantly under tremendous pressure.
The night’s events had completely shattered her bravely maintained facade; she couldn’t keep it together any longer.
She clearly didn’t want to wake him, so even as she cried, it was silent tears, without making any sound.
Carson suddenly felt a great deal of sympathy for Shirley.
A woman in her twenties, she had to bear such a heavy burden and withstand such great pressure. The worst part was her effort to do well, while behind her back there was a bunch of assholes on her team deliberately holding her back.
Carson hadn’t planned on disturbing Shirley, but his stomach suddenly growled.
In the dark bedroom, the sound was unmistakably clear and loud.
Only then did Carson remember that he had not had dinner after getting off work, as he had taken Shirley from the hotel, then brought her home, and it was now late without a meal!
Shirley’s movements of wiping her tears abruptly stopped, realizing Carson was awake.
In the darkness, they were silent: one on the bed, one on the floor; one sitting, one lying down; staring at each other.
No longer pretending to be asleep, Carson sat up, rubbed his stomach, and casually said, "Forgot to have dinner, I’ll go make something to eat."
Without turning on the light, he groped his way out of the bedroom.
In the kitchen, Carson opened the fridge, spotted a piece of lean meat, took it out, chopped it into fine cubes, fried a saucy mix, and then boiled water to cook the noodles, throwing in a handful of bok choy.
Soon, two bowls of noodles, one large and one small, were ready.
Carson came back into the bedroom with the two bowls of noodles, speaking with an easeful smile, "I reckon you haven’t had much for dinner either, you must be hungry. I made an extra bowl, want to come and eat something?"
Lying on the bed, Shirley was silent for two seconds, then sat up.