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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

As a cardiac surgeon, I’m used to challenges.

I’ve brought hopeless patients back, and not even when it was my own father—whose life was once in my hands—did I hesitate.

It’s not the procedure itself that’s making my hand tremble for the first time in my career. My extensive training and experience qualify me to be confident that I’ll succeed in this surgery.

However, the pale face of the only woman who ever reached a part of me that’s never been available to anyone else haunts me.

I never imagined our reunion would happen without us having the chance to talk about what happened between us almost two years ago.

When Alexis walked into my office today and treated me like a stranger, my resolve to keep the past locked in a dark room vanished. Before I had the chance to act, she fainted.

Ever since I arrived at the OR, her eyes have followed me. I know she’s already been sedated and soon will be completely out, so I walk up to the stretcher to make her a promise.

"I’m going to save you."

Her eyes are dull, but I know it’s not from pain, though I can’t quite read what she’s thinking. "I don’t believe your promises."

I nod and remember something I told her the last time we saw each other: "I’ve never broken a promise in my life."

But I did. I never went back to her.

"I don’t believe you. I hate you, LJ. Save me so I can keep hating you. I haven’t hated you enough yet."

"Alexis . . .”

"I don’t want to die. I have a reason to live. Save me."

"You won’t die."

"Why should I believe a liar?"

I chalk up what she’s saying to the fear she must be feeling about the surgery. I never lied to her.

"You don’t need to believe me, and yet you know I’m telling the truth. I’ll bring you back so you can have your wish—to keep hating me."

"Thank you," she says before finally going under.

When I begin the procedure, I block out everything about our past. I focus solely on the fact that Alexis isn’t even twenty-five yet and still has an entire life ahead of her.

A young woman who, even while hating me, has entrusted me with her life.

The team takes on their roles as usual. I only keep the best beside me, and I trust their competence fully. Even so, I notice the curious looks cast my way before the surgery begins.

They heard my conversation with Alexis.

But at this moment, every member of the team is committed to meticulously following every established protocol to ensure the success of the operation. No one who works by my side allows themselves the right to fail. They’ll set aside any doubts about what Alexis means to me and focus on saving her.

The beeping of the monitors and the low murmurs are expected. So is the classical music playing in the background—a habit I’ve kept since my very first surgery.

There’s something else today, though: a buzzing inside my head, a voice telling me she’s not here by accident. Alexis is mine. She always has been. And that’s why our paths have crossed once more.

I begin the first incision, forcing myself to dive into the present. As the minutes pass, I’m struck by a deep sense of responsibility.

The precise nature of cardiac surgery demands unwavering focus and steady hands. Every movement comes from my experience and skill as I carefully retract the muscle layers, revealing the intricate network of vessels responsible for supplying oxygenated blood to the body.

The abnormality becomes clear, and I meticulously map out the necessary course of action to correct it. With each suture, I bring the intricate network back into alignment, restoring the normal flow pathways.

About five hours later, the certainty that everything went as expected sends a surge of adrenaline through my body like I’ve never felt before.

When the procedure ends, I feel as if I can breathe again.

She’s going to be okay. I brought her back so she can hate me.

Alexis can hate me until I make her fall in love with me again, because I’m done denying myself the right to a second chance.

I want her, and I won’t give up until she’s mine. This time, though, I won’t let her go.

"Is everything okay?" Athanasios and William approach me as soon as I step out of the OR.

"What are you doing here?"

Both look uncomfortable, which is a first.

"We heard what happened," William says. "How did the procedure go?"

"She’s going to survive."

"I thought we’d have more time before the surgery," Athanasios says.

When he came to tell me about his meeting with Marla, he instantly knew who she was. They both knew who Alexis had been in my life, though I doubt either of them imagined she’d become my patient.

"Her mother’s here. She’s in the hallway. Looks distraught," Athanasios informs.

"I’m going to speak with her right now."

Minutes later, when I go to meet her, I’m surprised by how much they resemble each other.

I expected them to look alike, but not that Marla would be an older version of Alexis. Mother and daughter are identical.

"You must be Marla Gillis," I say, extending my hand to greet her.

"And you must be Lazarus, the man who broke my daughter’s heart. I hope you’ve at least partially redeemed yourself by healing her condition. How is she?"