Page 17

CHAPTER 17

Ben

A s I step through the sliding doors of Los Angeles County Hospital, the familiar scent of antiseptic wash and the low hum of hurried conversations set my nerves on edge. My mind is still reeling from last night’s dinner with Max—a night that should have been a celebration of our growing intimacy but ended in an emotional whirlwind. His accidental revelation of the scar on his abdomen earlier in the week, a mark of past violence and suffering, lingers in my thoughts, igniting a storm of emotions I hadn’t anticipated. Last night I wanted to ask him about it. Try and see if I could pull some more information from him without looking into the medical record, but that didn’t happen.

I navigate the bustling corridors to the office of Dr. Elijah Moore, the second Chief of Surgery our hospital employs as the major trauma center in Southern California, and my trusted mentor. The weight of my uncertainty grows with each step, the image of Max’s distraught face haunting me. I need guidance, and Dr. Moore, with his decades of experience and wisdom, is the only one I can turn to .

I knock softly on his door, which swings open to reveal him seated behind his desk, surrounded by stacks of medical journals and patient files. His face, usually a beacon of calm, brightens as he looks up.

“Ben, come in. What brings you here so early?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern. “Please don’t tell me you’ve finally been swept off your feet by the swanky new medical plaza down the way?”

“No, nothing like that,” I say as I take a seat across from him, the leather chair cold and unwelcoming. “It’s about something personal...and well, I guess somewhat professional,” I begin, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Dr. Moore leans forward, his hands clasped together. “I’m all ears, Ben. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

I recount how I met Max, the connection we formed, and the joy his presence has brought into my life. Dr. Moore listens intently, nodding in approval and smiling at the happiness in my voice. He and his wife have tried setting me up with multiple guys in the past, mostly his wife’s doing, but nothing ever fit. Not like me and Max. But as I delve into the events of last night, his expression turns thoughtful, concerned.

“Max revealed a scar, quite accidentally,” I explain, my voice faltering as I picture the scene again. “It was the way he reacted...and the scar itself. The size and details of it seemed familiar, Elijah. Disturbingly familiar.”

His brow furrows. “We see scars all the time, Ben. It’s part of our job. What makes this one different?”

“It’s not just the scar,” I press on, feeling the weight of my suspicions. “It’s the way it was sutured. I think... I think it might be my work. From a surgery I performed years ago, under traumatic circumstances.”

He sits back, his face shadowed with concern. “Ben, many people are sensitive about their scars. But you're seeing this through a surgeon's eye. To you, it's a professional curiosity; to him, it's a personal ordeal. No doubt he’s also got some unresolved trauma there. If the scar is as big and traumatic as you’re saying, there’s more to this than simply an embarrassing wound.”

“But there’s even more to it than that, Elijah,” I insist, leaning forward, my hands shaking slightly. “The night of The Butcher of Los Angeles’s last known attack—I was the surgeon who operated on a young police officer brought in nearly dead. I can’t shake the feeling... What if that officer was Max?”

Dr. Moore’s eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and realization dawning on him. “You think Max might be that officer?” He sighs. “What are the chances?”

“I’m not sure, but the resemblance of the scar...” My voice trails off, the implication of my words hanging heavily between us.

He sighs deeply again, his demeanor shifting from mentor to confidante. “What are you asking of me, Ben?”

“I need to know if my hunch is correct before I approach Max about this. It could change everything for us. I don’t want to dredge up a painful past if I’m wrong. That would just be cruel.”

He nods slowly, understanding the delicacy of the situation. “You know this is against hospital policy, Ben. Accessing old records without direct cause…”

“I know, and I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t absolutely necessary,” I reply earnestly. “I need to be sure, for both our sakes.”

After a moment of contemplation, Dr. Moore stands and walks to his computer. “This is against my better judgment, but I’ll help you this one time. Lord knows I’d never hear the end of it from my wife if I didn’t do this for you.” A smile tugs at both sides of his mouth. “I can’t have that, now can I? ”

“Absolutely, not,” I say. “Maybe a thank you is in order to Mrs. Moore?”

“I’ll pass along your regards. Be ready for an invite for dinner… for both you and this Max guy if things work out,” he says with a fatherly expression washing over him.

He logs into the archival system, his fingers hesitating over the keyboard. “This is confidential, Ben. Just this once.”

I nod, my heart racing as he types in the search parameters along with his secure passcode. The screen flickers and then rows of data fill the display. He scans the entries, then stops, his face pale.

“Here it is,” he says quietly, turning the screen toward me.

My eyes scan the document, and then I see it—Max’s name, alongside the detailed description of his injuries from that night. The room spins as the reality sets in. Max was the officer I saved that night, the one who almost didn’t make it. The intricate and unique scar was indeed the result of my work. In fact, Max’s scar had healed even more beautifully than I could have expected. A testament to Max’s good health and attention.

“Ben,” his voice breaks through my shock. “You need to decide what to do with this information. But be cautious. This isn’t just about professional ethics now; it’s about a man’s life and his traumatic past.”

I stand, my legs unsteady. “Thank you, Elijah. I... I need some time to think about how to handle this.”

Dr. Moore clasps my shoulder, his grip firm. “Take all the time you need. But remember, Ben, this is his story to tell. Be sure he’s ready to revisit it.”

Leaving his office, the weight of the truth bears down on me. How do I approach Max with this? How do I tell him that our paths crossed long before we met, under such horrific circumstances?

As I walk back through the hospital, my mind races with possibilities. This revelation could either bring us closer or tear us apart. I need to tread carefully, respecting his past and our potential future. But first, I need to gather my courage to face the man I’m falling in love with, armed with a truth that could change everything.