Buck had been in a coma for 12 days, 4 hours, and 37 minutes.

Not that anyone was counting.

Except she was. His nurse. That was it. Kind of.

It would’ve been charming if she were Sandra Bullock. But she was just a tired nurse with boundary issues who happened to fall for a man who didn’t talk.

Her delusion started, as most do, with a small but critical mistake: She was mistaken for a visitor.

Bobby Nash had that exasperated-dad energy. Like the man in the bed was his most troubled child.

So when he saw her chatting with Buck during a visit, he made the most logical assumption: “You must be his girlfriend.”

And she, completely flattered and deeply stupid, just… nodded.

That was the moment it all spiraled.

Word spread like a kitchen fire they’d definitely responded to before. She wasn’t Buck’s nurse—she was his girlfriend.

Worse? She didn’t correct them. Partly because she liked it. Mostly because she’s a loser.

And she was doing so well—you know, lying, until Buck did the unthinkable:

The bastard woke up.

Of course she was there (it is her job). And of course his aggressively loyal loved ones were too.

She threw a jacket over her scrubs like that would somehow mask the emotional crimes she’d committed.

She stood in the corner, clipboard in hand, trying to radiate “just passing through” energy. Casual. Normal. Charming. Quiet.

And then he blinked. Looked around. Eyes landing on her like she was a baby holding a raccoon on a leash.

Her body physically rejected her soul. She prayed. Not to be spared—but for a fire alarm. The Second Coming. A well-timed meteor.

But no. He blinked again.

Then: “Sorry, who… are you?”

Maddy stared. Hen tilted her head. Eddie offered some good old-fashioned Catholic judgment. And Bobby’s face said, “Oh, kid…”

The gig was up. Start the car. Burn your fingerprints.

She seriously considered punching him back into unconsciousness.

And then, whether out of pure pity or true sainthood, Bobby Nash spoke:

“She’s your girlfriend, Buck.”

There is a God.