Page 28

CHAPTER 28

Ben

I 'm staring blankly at the array of instruments laid out for the next surgery when my phone vibrates insistently in the pocket of my scrubs.

Nurse Lawson says, “Might as well answer it, the surgery has been delayed. Something about the patient’s bloodwork didn’t come back looking right. You’ll need to rescrub in anyway.”

I nod my acknowledgement and retrieve my phone from my pocket. A quick glance at the caller ID shows it’s from the hospital liaison office, an unexpected call that knots my stomach with a mix of curiosity and dread. Excusing myself, I step into the nearest empty consultation room and answer.

"Dr. Ben Cooper speaking."

"Hello, Dr. Cooper! This is Angela from the hospital liaison office. I’m calling with some exciting news regarding the Doctors Without Borders partnership program you applied for." Angela’s voice is bubbly, infused with an enthusiasm that feels jarring against the sterile quiet of the room.

"Oh, hello, Angela. Yes, I remember applying, but that was quite some time ago…" I trail off, a wave of memories fl ooding back—the grueling night in the ER with Max, the emotional aftermath, and the desperate need I felt then to do something, anything, to escape the replaying images of that night.

"Well, I’m thrilled to inform you that you’ve been accepted into the program! Your placement begins in six days, and it will indeed secure your path towards the chief of surgery track you’ve been discussing with Dr. Moore." Her words should elicit joy, professional fulfillment, a sense of achievement. Instead, they strike a chord of panic.

"That’s… that’s incredible news, Angela. Thank you." My words feel hollow, automatic as my mind races. This is what I wanted, isn't it? A prestigious role that not only catapults my career but also serves as a testament to overcoming the trauma of that night years ago.

Yet, as I hang up the phone, my thoughts immediately dart to Max. We’ve just begun to explore the depths of our relationship, navigating through the shadows of his past, and now mine threatens to impose a new distance between us. The irony isn't lost on me—I’d applied to get away from a past that now, ironically, includes him.

Walking back to the surgical wing, my steps slow. How do I even begin to explain this to Max? Would he understand why I need to go, why this is not just a job but a stepping stone to the pinnacle of my career? Would he wait for me? Our relationship, still so new yet profoundly significant, might not withstand the strains of a long-distance engagement. After all, Doctors Without Borders is a prestigious organization doing miraculous work around the world for the under served communities.

Unfortunately for me, these communities are thousands of miles away and if I take this job I’d not be back for quite some time.

After scrubbing back in, I push open the doors to the OR, the familiar scent of antiseptic filling my lungs, grounding me for a moment. Surgery is straightforward; you cut, you repair, you close. Relationships, however, are messier, harder to stitch up neatly.

Throughout the surgery, my mind isn’t entirely on the precise movements of my hands; it’s on Max. On us. The excitement of a new challenge is there, lurking in the back of my mind, but it’s overshadowed by the dread of what accepting it might cost me.

Post-surgery, I find a quiet corner in the lounge, pull out my phone, and start to text Max. Can we meet tonight? Something important has come up. I need to see him, to explain everything face-to-face. It's the only way. But then, I slowly erase the message and return the phone to my pocket. I don’t know what to do.

My stomach is in knots. I want to eat my feelings but also vomit away the rising stress.

Maybe, just maybe, there's a way to have both—the career I've always wanted and the man I'm falling for. As I head back to my duties, I cling to that hope, knowing that whatever decision I make, it needs to be one that I can live with. One that doesn't leave me wondering "what if?" every time I step into an operating room or look into Max’s eyes.

I’ll need to give this some more thought before I proceed.