Page 24 of Doctor Second Chance

She squeezes my good hand. “Hey, none of that. You had a pretty good excuse.” Her eyes twinkle mischievously. "Besides, I need to hear more about your drop-dead ex, who is a surgeon here, STAT. You mentioned it casually in a text, but you knew I would need more deets.”

I groan, knowing exactly where this is going. “Izzy…”

Isabella never met Shep in college. We were peripherally in the same friend group, but we didn’t really start getting close until after graduation when she worked with me at the Marine Center. She knows who he is, but no one wanted to mention his name for years after we broke up.

“Oh no, missy. You don't get to hold out on me. Spill the tea about Dr. McDreamy!”

I take a deep breath, swirling the wine in my glass. "God, Iz, I don't even know where to start."

"The beginning's usually a good place," she quips, leaning forward.

"Okay, so... at first, I was furious. Like, how dare he show up and try to be all caring after what happened?" I shake my head. "I wanted him to just... disappear."

Isabella nods sympathetically. "Totally get that. I would've felt the same."

"But then..." I hesitate, biting my lip. "He kept coming back and checking on me. And not just quick pop-ins, you know? He actually seemed to care."

"And now?" Isabella prompts gently.

I groan, covering my face with my good hand. "Now I find myself looking forward to his visits. He even got me into this fancy rehab place when I was supposed to go to some dump an hour away."

Isabella whistles. "Damn, that's some serious string-pulling."

"I know!" I throw up my hand and my giant Q-tip. "And that's what's driving me crazy. Is he just being nice because he feels guilty? Or is there... something more?"

My friend takes a thoughtful sip of wine. "Hard to say. But Elle, honey, be careful. Remember what he did and his reputation."

I nod, my stomach churning. "I know, I know. It's just... when he's around, it's like no time has passed. All those old feelings come rushing back."

Isabella reaches out, squeezing my arm. "Look, I say let him be nice. He owes you that much after how things ended. But don't expect anything, okay? You live six hours apart, and he's got a kid now. It's complicated."

I sigh, deflating a bit. "You're right. God, why does he have to be so... Shep?"

Isabella laughs. "Because the universe has a sick sense of humor, babe.”

8:14 pm

My phone buzzes on the bedside table, and I fumble to answer it with my good hand. “Hey, Mom,” I say, genuinely excited to talk to her. Whenever I’m sick, talking to my mom takes me right back to when I was an eight-year-old who craves her maternal affection.

“Ellie-Bo-bellie! How are you, sweetie? How's the rehab going?”

I can't help but smile at the childhood nickname. “It's... intense. But good, I think. The therapists seem knowledgeable, and everyone here is so kind. There is a tremendous difference between being here and being in the hospital. I never would have thought I’d say, ‘I’m happy to be in a rehab facility.’”

“That's wonderful, honey. I'm so glad you're getting good care." There's a pause. “Have you seen the surgeon again? Has he been attentive? You know, that is what separates the wonderful surgeons from the bad ones. Their job doesn’t end when they sew you up.”

“He has checked on me a few times. He will come here to evaluate at the end of the week and hopefully discharge me to go back to Florida.”

“That’s great, Elle. If I can’t be there keeping everyone straight, I’m glad to know you have a good one taking care of you.”

“Here is something crazy. Do you remember Shep Duncan?"

"The boy who broke your heart? How could I forget?" Mom's voice turns icy.

"Yeah, well... he's a surgeon here. Not mine, of course, but he’s been helping with my case. He’s checked on me several times and pulled some strings to get me into this specific rehab.”

"What?" Mom's shock is palpable. "Eloise, please tell me you're not letting him worm his way back in."

“Mom, it's not like that. He's been kind, actually. It’s a nice reset to the way we left things.”

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