Page 15 of Doctor Second Chance

Ari, Opie's mom, is one hundred percent better for me as a co-parent than she was as a romantic interest. We were never meant to be long-term—just two people who enjoyed each other's company for a few months. I was upfront about my commitment intentions, and she knew my reputation. When we called it quits, it felt mutual and drama-free.

Then came the pregnancy bombshell.

We handled it like adults - no messy emotions, just practical discussions about raising our child together but apart. It's been surprisingly smooth sailing.

Ari's schedule as a respiratory therapist is almost as chaotic as mine, but we make it work. Opie splits his time between us, and Cason fills in the gaps.

This is my weekend, but she usually takes Opie when I have to go in for on-call. But she is out of town for the holiday weekend, which puts me in a bit of a pinch. Thankfully, Cason is probably the most dependable person in the world.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?" Cason asks, putting her bag on her shoulder and pulling her key fob from her shorts’ pocket.

"Yeah, if that works for you. I've got a follow-up with a patient, but I shouldn’t be there for too long."

She nods, stifling a yawn. "No problem. Night, Dr. Duncan."

As I close the door behind her, I can't help but marvel at how well our unconventional family functions. It's not perfect, but it works. I’m super grateful that Ari and I can do this right, for Opie’s sake.

7:07 am

I arrive at the hospital fairly quickly, missing the worst of morning traffic. My mind is still buzzing from last night’s events. Seeing Elle again was more jarring than I imagined it might be. She was in my dreams, and my brain kept conflating the dream version with the reality.

Right now, I need to focus on my patients and do my best to put her out of my mind.

The attending ICU physician, Dr. Kazim, greets me with a nod as I join him and the team for rounds. Elizabeth's room is their next stop. I let him do the initial introduction since he is the doctor running the floor. Once I have an opening, I speak up.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," I say, stepping inside. "How are you feeling?"

She manages a weak smile. “I’ve been better, but I feel pretty good considering everything. I can wiggle my toes.” She smiles proudly as I see the sheet rumple at the foot of her bed.

I smile and give a slight nod to her parents, who have come to stand beside the bed and hear our run-through.

“I’m glad to know you were listening to me last night. That is a great sign.”

Relief washes over me. Her case is textbook, and I’m grateful for the positive outcome. I explain to both of them that a physical therapist will be visiting today. My hope is to have her up and out of bed, if even for a short time.

After a second conversation with Elizabeth’s mom in the hall, I can't help myself. I make my way to the surgical floor to pull up Elle's chart on my tablet. She's in surgery right now with Charlie Hampton.

I study her scans, my stomach tightening. The damage is extensive, worse than I initially thought from her intake form. There's definite nerve involvement. She's looking at months of therapy, maybe longer.

I lean against the wall, running a hand through my hair. Should I be the one to tell her? We have history, sure, but would that make it easier or harder? I pull out my phone, debating for a moment before typing out a message to Charlie:

Hey, it's Shep. The hand laceration patient, Eloise Klass—I know her from way back. Mind debriefing me after her surgery? Thanks.

I hit send, then stare at the screen, wondering if I've overstepped. But I can't shake this feeling of responsibility. I need to know she'll be okay.

10:16 am

My phone buzzes, and Charlie’s name appears on the screen. I answer quickly, eager for news about Elle's surgery.

"Shep, it's Charlie. Just got out of surgery with Klass."

"How'd it go?" I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral. I’m hopeful nothing unexpected came up, and it was smooth, in and out.

"Surgery went well, but it was more complicated than initially thought. We had to call in Dr. Reeves due to the extent of nerve involvement.”

I knew it.

I exhale slowly. Reeves is good, one of the best, actually. "That's... good. At least she had Reeves."

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