Page 47 of Doctor Second Chance

I sit up straighter, my heart quickening. "What is it, Dr. Reeves?"

"Your blood work came back perfectly," he announces, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Your treatment was executed flawlessly, and we got you on powerful antibiotics in time to prevent any apparent long-term effects from the infection."

A wave of relief washes over me, and my mom squeezes my hand.

Dr. Reeves continues, "Now, you're not entirely out of the woods yet regarding the infection. We'll need to keep you on IV antibiotics for at least a week. But your major organs appear to be unscathed."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "That's... that's incredible news. Thank you, Dr. Reeves."

He nods, then adds, "You owe a debt of gratitude to Dr. Duncan for acting so swiftly and getting you the care you needed. His quick thinking likely made all the difference."

I feel a twinge in my chest at the mention of Shep’s name. Where is he? Will I see him again? I push the thought aside, focusing on the good news at hand.

"I can't thank you all enough," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "I'm just thrilled about this report, considering everything that's happened."

Dr. Reeves smiles warmly. "You're very welcome, Ms. Klass. We'll continue monitoring you closely, but things look very promising."

7:36 pm

I'm propped up in my new bed, watching Isabella and my mom flit around the room like two hummingbirds. The step-down unit is a definite upgrade from the ICU—more space, less beeping, and a window that shows something other than another wing of the hospital.

"Elle, honey, do you want your pillow fluffed?" Mom asks, already reaching behind my head.

I can't help but chuckle. "Mom, I'm fine. Really."

Isabella emerges from the attached bathroom, arms full of my toiletries. "I've arranged everything just how you like it, Elle. Your face wash is on the left, moisturizer on the right."

"Thanks, Iz," I say, touched by her thoughtfulness.

My best friend moves to the window seat and demonstrates how it converts to a bed. "Look at this! Now, your mom can stay comfortably if she wants."

Mom nods approvingly. "That's wonderful. I might take advantage of that tonight."

There’s a soft knock at the door as they continue to bust around, arranging flowers and adjusting curtains. A woman in scrubs enters, her smile warm and professional.

"Hello, I'm Nurse Jen," she introduces herself. "I'll be taking over for the night shift."

"Hi, Nurse Jen," I greet her. "I'm Elle, and this is my mom and my friend Isabella."

Jen nods to each of them before turning back to me. "How are you feeling, Elle? Settling in okay?"

"Much better, thanks," I reply. "It's nice to have a change of scenery."

As Nurse Jen checks my vitals and goes over my care plan for the evening, I am grateful for the support surrounding me. Yet, there's a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach—a certain neurosurgeon-shaped absence that I'm trying hard not to dwell on.

I can't help but glance at my phone for the hundredth time today. No messages, no missed calls. Nothing from Shep. The silence is deafening, and a familiar ache settles in my chest.

The entire day has gone by with no word from him. I find myself replaying our last conversation in my head. The way he looked at me, the softness in his voice when he said he wanted to explore dating. It felt so real, so promising. But now? Now it feels like maybe that was part of the weirdness of those first few hours after waking up, trying to separate dreams from reality...

I try to rationalize it. Maybe he's busy with surgeries. Maybe there's an emergency with Opie. But deep down, I know better. This feeling, this gut-wrenching silence, it's all too familiar.

It's just like before when he left for med school without so much as a backward glance. He slowly pulled away, consumed by his ambitions, until there was nothing left of us. When the decision presented itself, I was not considered. I remember the nights I spent waiting for a call that never came, the plans we made that he never showed up for.

Maybe a bigger, better deal came up again. Perhaps I’ll never know because history seems to be repeating itself. One moment, he's by my bedside, holding my hand and talking about a future. The next, he's gone, vanished into thin air like he never existed.

The worst part is that I let myself hope. I was in a vulnerable state after the whirlwind of all of that. I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time, that we could make up for lost time and heal old wounds.

The hours tick by without a word from him. That hope continues to whither away, leaving behind a bitter taste of disappointment.

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