Page 45 of Doctor Second Chance

"Well, cowboy," I say, adopting a playful tone, "Mommy's visiting some friends down in Texas right now. You know how those Texans are—always trying to keep folks longer with their barbecues and rodeos." I offer my best Texas rancher accent and tip my fake hat.

Opie giggles softly, but his eyes remain questioning.

I swallow hard. "I hope she'll be able to come home real soon, Bud. I miss her too."

My chest aches as I turn off the bedside lamp, leaving only the soft glow of his nightlight. I'm a neurosurgeon, for God's sake. I'm used to fixing impossible problems with people's brains, to having all the answers. But right now, I feel utterly helpless. All I can do is love my son and hold onto hope that somehow, someday, Ari pulls through this and wakes up with minimal or no brain damage.

I linger in the doorway, watching Opie's breathing slow as he drifts off to sleep. The weight of uncertainty settles heavily on me. I have to protect him from a reality I don’t fully understand.

I stroll into the den, the day's weight pressing on my shoulders. Stepping out onto the back patio, I sink into the plush outdoor sofa. I'm immediately transported back to the last evening here with Elle.

Today has been... indescribable. A rollercoaster doesn't even begin to cover it. The high of Charlie's text, knowing Elle had woken up, that she was alive and conscious, flooded me with relief. But then, walking into her hospital room and seeing another man at her bedside, her hand in his... That moment erased all those good emotions and gutted me.

I lean back and let out a long breath, trying to release some of the tension knotted in my chest. My fingers trace the rim of my glass absentmindedly. In just a span of hours, I've felt elation, terror, hope, and now... a hollow sort of jealousy? It's too much. Too much for one day.

A cool breeze brushes against my skin, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden. I close my eyes for a moment, willing myself to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos.

It's been a long day—filled to its edges with raw emotion—and I'm nearing my breaking point. With everything that's been happening: Ari's seeming disappearance and Opie's innocent questions about his mom, the grueling surgeries at work, and now Elle's critical condition... It's like I'm standing on a precipice, and it wouldn't take much to push me over.

I open my eyes to the night sky above me, searching for constellations I used to know by heart—a reminder of a time when things were simpler when my biggest worry was acing an exam or making it to class on time. But those days are long gone.

The patio is quiet around me. Even the crickets seem to sense my mood and keep their serenade subdued tonight. I sit alone with my thoughts. I feel so stupid for confessing all today to Elle without first asking her where she is at.

There's no escaping it now. These feelings aren't going anywhere. They're as real as the sturdy deck beneath my feet and as undeniable as the starlit sky above. The only control I have is to distance myself for self-preservation.

FIFTEEN

Elle

7:47 pm

I watch Justin gather his things, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Part of me is touched that he rushed here as soon as he heard about my accident and subsequent coma. But another part, a more prominent part if I'm being honest, is frustrated that his visit coincided with the very day I woke up.

"Thanks for coming, Justin," I say, trying to muster genuine warmth in my voice. "It means a lot that you made the trip."

He pauses at the door, his eyes glistening. "Of course, Elle. I... I was so scared when I got the call. The thought of losing you wrecked me.”

I resist the urge to sigh. This day has been a whirlwind, and my mind is still foggy as I try to piece together the lost time. The last thing I need is to deal with Justin's rekindled feelings.

"I'll be okay," I assure him, hoping to cut off any further emotional declarations. "Really. The doctors say I'm improving."

He nods, wiping at his eyes. "I just want you to know, Elle. These past few days, I’ve been a basket case. I’m just glad you're okay. I love you, Elle."

There it is—the confession I've been dreading since he walked in. Justin has always been a source of comfort, reliable, and steady. But as I look at him now, I'm more confident than ever that my love for him isn't romantic. And the likely reality is it never truly was.

"Justin," I start gently, "I care about you, too. And I'm so grateful for you and your concern for me. You drove all this way. Thank you. You’re a good man, and I’m lucky to have you in my life."

He lingers as he is about to leave. He has been here for over four hours now. That is a long time, especially with this craziness so fresh. I want peace, and my body is begging for rest.

I know he wants me to ask him to stay with me. I hate the thought of him having to get a hotel room. But I would have told him to stay in Gainesville if he had asked before making the drive.

Just like with the breakup, I have to be careful of the signals I send to him. If I let him sleep on the sofa in my room, that would open up a glimmer of hope that it means something more. I can't cross that line with him.

He needs to go for him and for me.

As he leaves, I let out a long breath—one more complication in an already complicated situation. My mind drifts to Shep, and I wonder why I haven’t seen him again. He promised to come back by.

11:55 pm

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