Page 29 of Stat: Love In Scrubs

“Her mother died from childbirth, but it’s more than that. It wasn’t like Veronica; her mother was openly profiled and ignored, which caused her death. She could have still had her mother today, but she didn’t have doctors who cared whether she was truly okay.

“I was in that room with Veronica that day. I saw the amount of care her doctor had with her. They made sure to be attentive to her, right down to the very end. It’s the reason I am the doctor that I am today.

Veronica had an advocate, and Yara’s mother didn’t.

Yet you spewed so much hate at someone you didn’t truly know.

I understand you’re in pain, and you were caught off guard.

But that never gives you the right to break someone else.

I appreciate you having this conversation with me today, but you owe her an apology, too. ”

Ron and Marissa nodded in agreement. “We’re more than okay with doing that. If you don’t mind giving us that therapist number, we would truly appreciate it.”

I nodded and pulled my phone from my back pocket to send them the information through text before I forgot.

“I know we didn’t handle ourselves well, but once we’re in a better headspace, we would like to try again with Esa. I hate that’s the impression she has of us.”

I nodded and chuckled. “She doesn’t have a bad impression. She thinks the vacation you went on wasn’t good and that maybe you need to take another one. But a good one, might I add, so you can be happy when you get back.”

Ron and Marissa burst into laughter. “She is so silly like her mother was, but also so intelligent. You have done an amazing job with her. You tell her we’re going to take a better vacation this time, and when we come back, our attitudes will be a lot better.” Ron responded.

I nodded, glad that this lunch didn’t go the way I was expecting. I was prepared to respond when my beeper went off, alerting me that I needed to get back to the hospital.

“I hate to cut our lunch short, but duty calls. Thank you again for coming by. The door is always open whenever you’re ready to give this another shot.” I told them.

Ron and Marissa stood along with me and walked with me outside before going our separate ways. Today had been everything I needed it to be.

The Visit

I hadn’t planned on coming out here today.

But after the week I’d had—and the way Yara kept looking at me like she saw through all the shit I tried to keep buried—it just felt right.

I pulled in slowly, gravel crunching under the tires as I eased into the usual spot. Not too close. Not too far. Just where I always parked when I came to see her.

I stepped out, bouquet in hand—sunflowers, because Esa said they were “happy flowers”—and walked the rest of the way. My chest tightened when I saw her name carved into the stone. Still clean. Still simple. Just like she would’ve wanted.

I stood there for a minute, letting the silence wrap around me. Letting myself feel her.

“Hey, V.”

I crouched down and brushed a few dried leaves away from the edge of the marker. Placed the flowers beside it, then rested my hand on top like it would bring her closer.

“It’s been a minute, I know,” I murmured. “Not ‘cause I forgot. Just been trying to keep it together—keep things steady for Esa. For work. For myself, on the days I can.”

I looked up at the sky. Cloudless. Still.

“But there’s someone.”

The words came out low, like I had to check in with myself first. They didn’t sting like I expected. They landed easily.

“She’s not you,” I said. “And I ain’t lookin’ for her to be. But she’s good, V. Got a smart mouth and a heart to match it. She loves hard, even when she tries to pretend she doesn’t.”

I smiled a little.

“And she’s good to Esa. Real good. Makes her laugh. Checks on her. Talks to her like she’s more than a kid. Like she matters.”

The breeze picked up just then. Not strong, but soft enough to feel like something.

“I think I’m falling in love with her.”

It was the first time I’d said it out loud. Not to Yara. Not even to myself. Just here, with V, where I knew it was safe.

“I ain’t here for approval. And I ain’t tryna make sense of none of this. I just wanted you to know. I’m okay. I still have my days, but I’m learning how to breathe again. How to live.”

I swallowed the lump that pushed into my throat and let a moment pass in silence.

“I finally saw your parents. You probably already know it didn’t go too well at first… but they came around. Said they’re willing to try therapy. I hope they follow through—Esa deserves as much love around her as possible.”

I placed my hand on her stone once more.

“I’ll keep looking out for them—for you.”

I let my hand rest there a beat longer, letting the silence say what I couldn’t. Then I drew in a slow breath, eyes drifting toward the sky above us.

“Keep watchin’ over our girl,” I said finally. “She’s got more people now—but she’ll always have you.”

I stepped back, gave the stone one last look, then turned and walked toward the car. A soft breeze brushed the back of my neck—the same way Veronica used to do when she wanted me to know I was doing the right thing.

I didn’t need her approval. But damn… it felt good.

I sat in the car for a few extra minutes after leaving the cemetery. My hand gripped the wheel, but I wasn’t rushing to pull off. The silence hit differently now—didn’t feel like grief sitting heavy on my chest anymore. Just quiet.

Maybe that was peace.

I thought about Yara. How she walked into my life like she wasn’t afraid of the mess. How she challenged me, cared for Esa, and didn’t ask for more than I could give—but somehow made me want to give her everything, anyway.

It would’ve been easy to chalk this up to timing. To the way she looked. The way her smart-ass mouth drove me crazy and turned me on at the same time. But nah.

This wasn’t a rebound or a distraction.

I wanted her.

And not just when things were good. I wanted her when the days were long, and my head was heavy, and Esa needed extra love. I wanted her when life was quiet, and especially when it got loud.

I didn’t know if this was forever, but I knew this: I was choosing her. Not by accident. Not out of grief.

On purpose.