saving grace. She was full of the kind of tough love that she’d raised me with and made sure I didn’t go completely crazy while spending all day at home. She had me video-chat my brothers and their father, encouraged me to keep up with research in various surgical fields, and even coaxed Jack into taking me out for dinner a couple of nights a week.
Jack wasn’t ignoring me or anything—he looked at me like I was one part fascinating science project and two parts very fragile. It made him uneasy around me, but I was glad to have my friend in such trying—and boring—times.
All I needed was to know I was equally secure with Adrian.
It weighed on me, day in and day out, when I would do nothing but stare into space for hours, trying to imagine going back to my life as it had been, without the man I was still desperately in love with.
And yet, like a coward, I still kept my mouth shut.
The days continued to go by, and it seemed like I’d lived three lifetimes before I was cleared for work.
On my first day back, I got up early and sent my mother a text to tell her I was feeling fine. I dressed in comfortable clothes but made sure my hair was done up nicely. I briefly considered makeup but figured it would make me look even more out of place than I already would.
Scrubs were comfortable but not flattering. They never had been, but I was totally unprepared for the reality of what I would look like in them after my surgery. Being a doctor was never a beauty pageant, but staring in the mirror, with a surgical scar on my left bicep, the smooth scarring of road rash on my right tricep, and the straight line peeking out from the “v” of my scrub top. It was where Adrian had sliced into me, saved my life, and I should have been oh-so grateful, should have kissed him for that mere act alone, but all I could think of was how the skin I’d once thought was nice enough and smooth enough, was now marred with scars and marks that I’d never be rid of. I was basically a walking advertisement for the Mass General surgical department.
“Are you going to be okay?” Jack asked, coming up beside me.
I just let out a small hum and wondered the same thing.
My day was almost normal.
It reminded me of before the accident—I ran around doing scut work and checking on patients, but everyone was unusually kind to me, even our Chief Resident. I made a mistake in bringing her the wrong chart for a patient, and instead of biting my head off like she would have usually, she just told me to change the charts and go on break. Did everyone think I was going to fall apart?
I hadn’t seen Adrian anywhere, and Jonah was avoiding me. I was sure of it. I asked Jack about Adrian’s absence from the hospital, but my friend just suggested that he might have had a day off and went on his way. Jack would have been no use anyway. We were on our General Surgery rotation, and he was committing to a balancing act between completing all his work for general and sucking up to Jonah. I couldn’t blame him—if Cardiothoracics had been run by anyone else, I would have had my nose wedged firmly into their backside for the entirety of my first few years.
Around four in the afternoon, I got really tired. I had been warned of this—my muscles and cardiovascular system weren’t in the same health they had been when I’d had the accident, so I was going to tire more easily. Without thinking about it, I headed up to the cardiothoracics ward and parked myself in a chair at the nurse’s station. If only I could live there, in the ward I loved, and have the man I loved working beside me.
Jasmine was still at the hospital, and when I regained a little of my strength, I wandered over to her room. She was with a physical therapist, and they were playing what looked like miniature basketball. There was a small hoop over one end of Jasmine’s bed. She wasn’t quite running, but she was striding around the room with purpose, dodging the therapist and laughing as she did so. She managed to score and had to sit down to catch her breath, but she