Page 22 of Doctor Second Chance

I muster a slight chuckle, feeling a warmth in my chest that has nothing to do with the coffee. "Well, I try. But honestly, the most important thing in my life right now is Opie. That is where all of my ambitions go now.”

"Opie?"

"My son. He's four," I say, feeling a surge of pride and love as I reach for my phone. I quickly swipe through to find my favorite picture of Opie, a candid shot capturing his infectious grin and sparkling eyes—a mirror image of my own.

“Here, take a look,” I offer, turning the screen towards Elle. “That's my little man. He's got this wild mop of hair that won't stay put no matter what we do. It's like trying to tame a tornado.”

I chuckle softly, then hesitate momentarily before adding, “His mom, Ari, and I share custody. We were never married, just... it’s complicated. You know how these things can be.” I run a hand through my hair, suddenly aware of how similar it is to Opie's unruly mop.

Elle's expression softens as she looks at the photo, her eyes lingering on the screen. “He's adorable, Shep,” she says, her voice warm and genuine. “Those dimples! And that smile... he looks so happy. I can tell you’re a great dad.”

Her words catch me off guard, and I feel an unexpected warmth spreading through my chest. “I do my best,” I say, surprised by how much her approval means to me. “It's not always easy with my schedule, but Opie... he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. It makes all the long shifts and sleepless nights worth it.”

She meets my eyes, and for a moment, I see a flicker of the hurt I caused her all those years ago. It's like a punch to my own gut, reminding me of the pain I inflicted on her and the fact that I never tried to contact her again.

But then something shifts, almost imperceptibly, and her gaze warms. The ice in her expression seems to melt away, replaced by a softness that makes my breath catch in my throat. It's a look I didn’t deserve and didn’t expect. It stirs up feelings that make me feel more than a little uncomfortable.

2:24 pm

I pull out of the hospital parking garage, my mind still swirling with thoughts of Elle. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly as I navigate through the traffic, replaying our conversation on the rooftop repeatedly in my head.

Even after all these years, something about Elle still pulls at me. The way her eyes light up when she talks about her work, the soft curve of her smile when she looks at Opie's picture—it's all so achingly familiar, yet new simultaneously.

Pulling into my driveway, I can't shake the feeling that something has shifted. Maybe I'm not just trying to prove I've changed.

Opie and I stand at the front door and wave goodbye to Cason. As soon as she’s halfway down the road, he pulls on my scrubs pant leg.

“Daddy, come see what I built today,” he pleads.

“Okay, Buddy. Let’s see it. I can’t wait.”

He runs in ahead of me. The storm glass door shuts with a thud as I try to catch up with him. My son's excited chatter fills the house as he yells for me.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. You’re so fast, I can’t keep up.”

I get down on the floor and give him my full attention. In his hands, he’s proudly displaying a brightly colored spaceship of sorts. It’s an impressive concept for a four-year-old. Maybe he has my laser focus.

“Wow, Buddy, this is amazing!” I say, taking the spaceship from him carefully. I turn it over in my hands, inspecting the detailed work he’s put into it. “You did such a great job. Look at all these cool colors.”

He beams up at me, his eyes shining with pride. “Yeah! And look, the wings can move, too!” He reaches out and demonstrates, his tiny fingers making the wings flap back and forth.

“That’s super cool. You’re getting good at this,” I say, genuinely impressed. “I bet this could fly all the way to Mars.”

His face lights up even more if that’s possible, and he starts explaining every little feature of his creation, from the control panel to the special cargo hold he designed. I listen intently, marveling at his creativity and the joy he finds in making his Lego masterpieces.

"Hey big guy, what do you say to walking to the park?” I ask, ruffling his hair.

Opie's eyes light up. "Yeah! Can we go to Railroad Park?"

I check my watch. It's a bit of a walk, but the fresh air will do us both good if the heat doesn’t kill us. "Sure thing. Let's get your shoes on."

We head out, walking down 20th Street South towards the park. Opie skips along beside me, pointing out every dog we pass. As we cross 1st Avenue South, my phone buzzes. It's Buster Hankel, my wild friend since our time as Sigma Nus at Florida.

“Shep, my man! You've got to come out tonight. Parkside's got this new outdoor setup, and the place is crawling with hotties. You need to meet me tonight. They are having live music and an oyster roast.”

Buster has been going through a nasty break-up for the last several months. They have been done for a while, but they are locked into a quasi-divorce even though they weren’t married because of some financial entanglements. So he is raring to get out on the town more than ever.

I let out a weary sigh, my eyes following Opie as he dashes ahead toward the playground equipment. His boundless energy never ceases to amaze me, especially after a long shift at the hospital. Part of me wishes I could muster even a fraction of that enthusiasm.

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