The Poison Morality by Stacey Kathleen

suspected for a while.  Regardless of what he knew happened and her basic admission that the man couldn’t be saved, she still would confess nothing straight out.  But there was something else curious to him, just like when she had summoned help in the train station.  “Hearing the wife and the child affected you didn’t it,” she couldn’t tell if the look of concern was for the victims or her.
    “Why would it, it’s nothing to do with me.  Did he die?  Is that why you’re… sad,” diverting her eyes to his hands instead of his face but he stopped and she met his gaze.  He wasn’t aware that it was that obvious.
    He gave her a condescending look, “You were the one who said he couldn’t be saved.  But no, it was one of my patients.”
    Oliver changed the subject, “I’m going to get this wound cleaned up…..again.  Your stitches didn’t break which is good news and then recommend you get some rest,” he spoke as he applied ointment to the cut and Sophie drew in breath between clenched teeth from the stinging sensation.
    Oliver stopped and looked at her.  “You agreed to let me take you out sometime, why would I get rid of you if I want to spend time with you,” he returned to the task at hand.
    “Is that the deal?  I go to the theatre with you and you won’t tell anyone what you think you know about me?”
    “Oh so you do fancy going to the theatre.  One thing has nothing to do with the other.  I’m no threat to you or your secret.”  Secrets, he thought, hers was a dirty little secret and he did already know but wanted it confirmed.  Did this make him no better than Jacki?  She was playing a game he didn’t want to participate in however and he dropped the thought altogether.  He did have a secret and if he told Sophie his, would she likely tell him hers.  He started to say it but…
    “I have no secret.  A secret is something that you keep from others.  I don’t have anyone else to share anything with or to keep anything from.”
    “You do now.”  He worked in silence for a moment contemplating how to answer her question.  Putting the last bit of tape on the bandage he pulled her shirt back down, caressing her cheek, flush from her scurrying about.  Not once did he truly smile the whole time he was there, nor did he concern himself with his damp state.  He was not clean shaven and there were bags under his eyes.  He looked as tired as she felt.
    “I’m sorry about your patient Oliver but you should be used to that, shouldn’t you,” she looked concerned for him.  Smiling then, he started to move a lock of hair off her forehead but she slid away from his touch but her expression showed genuine concern for him.
    “Liam was twelve,” he sat upright, and then leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.  “He was sick for a long time and I….,” Oliver cleared his throat, “I removed his life support today,” then clasping his hands, he rested his chin on them, looking far off, sighing.  “If you don’t mind I’ll stay until you fall asleep because right now, this is where I want to be.  Being close to you, makes me feel better and I’m sorry if that bothers you or upsets you but you’re one of my patients too and I have a responsibility to all of you.  With you I don’t feel so….helpless.”
    “So helping me is the way to make you feel better,” she smiled at him; slight dimples appeared on her cheeks he didn’t notice before, probably because he had not seen her smile before.  “And what if I didn’t need your help tonight?”
    Not answering, he brought her hand to his face.  Her instinct was to pull away when she thought he was going to kiss it but he pressed the palm to his cheek, the stubble tickled.  Sophie didn’t know what the gesture meant but stayed silent and he rested her hand back on her stomach.  He asked, “Would you like to move to the bed?  I’ll help you if you need it.”  But her eyes