8760 hours. 365 days. 52 weeks. Twelve heartbreaking months, where, despite trying, nothing was learned. The old Ethan Hardy vowed to change and to bury the past along with memories of his brother. Again, a promise he could not keep.

Because he is pathetic.

Nausea swirls and boils in the pit of his stomach. His ineptitude, albeit indirectly, caused all of this to happen. Half the department are strapped up to machines, resting under paper-thin council issue linen. Alicia being one of them, rhythmic hum of machinery being the only thing to suggest life still exists somewhere within. Worse, they are suddenly all enduring the very same resources he coldly argued were essential during his time as clinical lead. All because budget wouldn't stretch to luxuries.

Clipping his stethoscope around his neck almost ten hours earlier and forcing down the last of his Readybrek, he chucked the pots and pans in the sink without a further thought. Evening would come and knew he would go home just like any other night and scrub all the crockery to within an inch of its life, letting the scent of lemon Fairy liquid carry away the shift's troubles. If only the end to a busy day could be so plain sailing.

Perhaps this is his punishment for being so self-absorbed: grief for what he once had but couldn't keep, for their old life, for the wasted year, for the woman he no longer knows.

His thoughts are rudely interrupted by the cracking sound beneath him from the orange plastic chair — again, you get what you pay for — he curses and drags heavy limbs into a standing position. An hour of his unshifting weight clearly has stretched the cheap contraption to its limits and beyond.

Clinical notes lie face down on her bedside table and he snatches them, rifling through until he finds a blank page. Medical history is of little meaning to him, despite being in the dark about more things than he ought to be. None of it matters now. He doesn't want to feel sicker than he already does and wants a firsthand account of everything; his perspective can't be skewed by drivel about her medication and bruising and counselling. Not now. There are things he needs her to understand by the time she comes round.

His pager has bleeped three times in the last five minutes: being one of two consultants for God knows how many patients is a monumental responsibility to have. For what it's worth, he cares about none of them but this one.

A shitty hospital biro is his last hope. And it'll just have to suffice.

Alicia,

This is one of the many times I'm thoroughly, totally and utterly lost for words. Thank God stuttering doesn't show in handwriting. Today was probably the worst day of my life. Yes, the worst day, and I'm well qualified in having terrible days by now.

I've been with you for the past couple of hours. Charlie has popped his head on several occasions, but I think they're letting it slide. We had to triage everyone and I was a mess after putting the phone down. Before the ambulances even arrived I had the strangest gut feeling you were badly injured. Sam is critically injured and on life support. The ambulance you were in overturned because of a petrol explosion. She took the brunt of the force. We're terribly understaffed and I keep getting called to treat. Too bad for them there's nowhere else I'd be right now than with you, where I should have been all along. Now you're reading this, I'll be down in theatre somewhere. When I can be back, I will be.

I know little about what you've been through. Bea had to dash off and catch her flight and only gave me the basics. She sends her love and is demanding I text her frequently. Kind of annoying but I know she only cares — just like me.

I hope in time you'll let me in. I do, however, completely understand now why you were so furious with me. And you have every right to still be. Truth is, I was so wrapped up in my own troubles that I couldn't see the wood for the trees. Shame on me. This is not a plea for your forgiveness, just a weak explanation that might help you to understand I've never had malicious intentions.

All I'll say is that men like Eddie are not men. They are arrogant, entitled boys who are stupid enough to believe whatever they want is theirs. He has a lot to learn and unfortunately you were his lesson. You are strong and empowered and this does not have to define you now. Everyone will be behind you and I'll be at your side. Prison sentence for the length of his career is likely and the attack on you will only serve as an aggravating circumstance in court. Judges will see straight through him. Lucky for him that I didn't find out about this sooner. I've killed a man before, haven't I?

Take two paracetamol for the head pain; they're under this letter. Contraband practice but you will be fine on those. You've had a blunt force trauma to the head as he pushed you, and suspected concussion as the ambulance overturned. Before the CT we worried you'd have a bleed on the brain. Miraculously and thankfully not. Lateral malleolus fracture of the fibula too and a nasty gash to the left temple which Elle treated and I dressed.

Your GCS was 15 upon arrival. You shouted for me twice. Everyone exchanged glances. Not sure how I walked into resus after that. It broke my heart, Alicia. You never should have been caught up in anything. If only we'd gone home together that night. My biggest wish is to turn back the time. We flatlined that night when it could've been happily ever after. It's my biggest regret to date.

I am not going to bombard you. Everything from now is your decision and at your pace. No need to be afraid ever again.

Love always

Ethan x

He folds the paper and places it on the desk, realising he has written way more than he ever intended to.

With a swallow, he takes her hand from under the covers. The clock ticks a semi circle in seconds as he stays there, frozen to the spot, trying to commit this moment to memory and wondering if she senses he is with her.

She squeezes back.