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The infirmary on PLAN Gansu reeked of disinfectant and overworked air filters. I was standing in the doorway, because that was what I usually did when I was nervous: I just stood there… like a bewildered houseplant. A nurse walked past me carrying a clipboard and nodded, signaling that I could go in. Good.
Eva Stratt was finally awake.
Twenty minutes ago, she had been under anesthesia while a doctor set her wrist. She had broken it by rushing down a metal stair while issuing orders to ensure the survival of humanity via her tablet. A habit of hers.
They had used the standard cocktail of drugs: something like midazolam and propofol. The doctor had said she would be "a little disoriented."
As it turned out later, in medical code, that meant she would be loopy as hell.
I stepped inside.
She was propped up in the bed, her right arm wrapped in a bulky splint and sling. Her hair was loose, slightly flattened from the pillow. She looked… soft. I immediately forgot why I had come in first.
Her eyes landed on me and they brightened instantly.
“Na endlich!”
She beamed at me. Like I was a puppy who had just brought her a tennis ball back. My heart skipped a few beats.
She then squinted and very seriously said something else in German.
“Wer bist du?”
I blinked at her.
“…uh, sorry…?”
She tilted her head, examining me like a puzzle. Then realization dawned.
“Oh!” she said again, switching languages mid-thought. “You speak English too, like that Chinese nurse. But you’re American!”
Great deduction, Stratt.
“The nurse told me,” she continued cheerfully. “that I had a surgery.”
“A procedure, yes.” I said automatically. “They just reset the bone in your arm.”
She nodded solemnly.
“Yes. But I do not remember.”
I nodded, but her gaze narrowed. Then she gasped.
“Oh!”
Here we go again.
“You must be my husband.”
I wasn't expecting that. I kinda felt my soul leave my body.
“I… what…?!”
“I saw videos!” she explained enthusiastically. “Those viral ones. Where people wake up from surgery and they do not recognize their spouses.”
She pointed at me with her good hand like she had solved a murder mystery.
“I think you must be my husband.”
I felt like I was no longer connected to reality. What was going on here? Was there a hidden camera somewhere, and were the others playing a prank on me? No, I ruled that out right away. Stratt definitely wouldn’t be involved in something like that.
“Eva…”
“I’m sure of it, I know because you are exactly my type.”
My mouth fell open, but she kept going. I felt myself blush.
“Kind eyes.” she said, gesturing vaguely toward my face, and my heart was pounding as if it were trying to break through my chest.
“Smart-lookin’.” she continued.
I wheezed quietly.
“Very dorky. In a silly science pun T-shirt.”
She tugged lightly at the hem of my shirt, which said “Ah! The Element Of Surprise”.
“I… this was a gift…” (It was not).
“And those slutty glasses.”
“…my glasses are not…”
“Amazing hair.” she beamed as she reached up and ran her fingers through my hair. I swore I was going to pass away. Good thing we were in the infirmary.
“I am soooo lucky.” she said, sounding genuinely delighted. “Wow.”
What. My brain attempted to process that sentence. My brain, which I had otherwise been proud of, failed quite badly.
“I don’t even care that you are American.” she added generously.
“Eva…”
“You have the whole nerdy professor look.” she continued dreamily. “It is very appealing.”
I was actively dying. I didn't know whether to call for a priest or a doctor.
“Eva…” I tried again.
"I always imagined someone like y…”
“Eva!” I cried out and that finally made her pause. I took a deep breath.
We stared at each other. I was completely stunned, and she looked very pleased. My heart was beating so loudly that if I had been the one hooked up to that heart monitor, they would surely have called a code blue.
“Okay.” I said carefully. “First of all… I’m not your husband.”
Her eyebrows knit together.
“Oh.”
“And… uh, we’re not married.”
“Oh.” her face fell a little.
“But,” I rushed to add. “we do know each other.”
She looked hopeful again.
“Yes?”
“We’re… coworkers.”
She tilted her head.
“That is acceptable.”
“And technically,” I continued weakly, wincing a little. “you’re also my boss.”
She slowly processed this and then her eyes widened. Then her shoulders slumped.
“…oh.”
I had just emotionally devastated Eva Stratt. Excellent work, Grace.
But then her expression brightened again.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Then I will ask you out.”
“You… what?”
She nodded, looking completely satisfied with this solution.
“Yes. Obviously.”
Obviously.
“You are my dream man.” she informed me. “So I will ask you out.”
My ears were ringing. Forget code blue, let’s call the bomb squad instead, because I might actually combust.
“And I like your hair.”
She poked at it again.
I suddenly could not breathe. My entire existence was spiraling into a black hole of hope and terror. Because the stupid, romantic, deeply repressed part of my brain whispered: I’m her… dream man? Like… really?
Before I could respond, the PLAN Gansu’s doctor walked briskly into the room.
“Ah, hello Dr. Grace.” she said, spotting me. “I can see Stratt is already up and talking. That's good.”
Eva waved enthusiastically.
“Hello! I was just asking out my coworker.”
The doctor didn’t even blink.
“That’s nice.” she said, checking the monitor and jotted down a few things on the tablet she was holding.
Eva leaned toward me conspiratorially.
“I still think you might secretly be my husband.”
“I am definitely not.”
“We will see.”
The doctor started adjusting the IV.
“Okay, Director Stratt, the operation was successful. Now it’s time to rest.”
Eva sighed dramatically, then looked back at me with sleepy affection.
“You should stay.” she murmured.
My brain melted, but the doctor was already ushering me toward the door.
“Let her sleep.” she said.
I staggered out into the hallway as if I had just survived re-entry into the atmosphere. My heart was still pounding, and my mind kept replaying every word she had just said.
I leaned against the wall of the corridor. The doctor stepped out a moment later, pulling the door mostly closed behind her.
I swallowed.
“Um… can I ask something?”
She looked up from her tablet.
“Sure.”
I gestured weakly toward the room.
“Will she… remember any of that?”
The doctor smiled with that sympathetic smile doctors tended to give when they knew the answer was going to ruin your day. It seemed to be the same everywhere in the world.
“Probably not.”
Something in my chest dropped.
“The sedative we used,” she continued. “can cause temporary memory loss. Patients may talk more, but… later they usually do not remember the conversation.”
I nodded slowly.
“Right.”
“By the time she wakes she’ll likely not remember.”
The hallway suddenly felt colder.
“Okay.” I said quietly with resignation.
The doctor gave my shoulder a brief pat and headed down the corridor.
For Eva Stratt, this conversation would fade away just like the anesthesia. Just a blank spot in the day. But I would remember every word.
For about five minutes in that room, the universe took on an incredibly hopeful form. And now it was all gone.
Tomorrow she would wake up feeling refreshed and calm, and Director Eva Stratt would be back at work with full energy. Asking for reports. Arguing with engineers. Eating a couple of world leaders for breakfast. Usual stuff.
And she would look at me just the way she always did: professional. Completely unaware that, for a brief ridiculous moment, she had told me I was everything she ever imagined.
How was I supposed to act like that never happened? Because it did. It happened to me!! And now it was permanently etched in my mind like the world’s most devastating souvenir.
I pushed myself away from the wall and started walking down the hallway.