Page 55 of Doctor Second Chance

11:17 pm

I'm lying in bed, unable to sleep despite the late hour. The TV drones on, a futile attempt to quiet the chaos in my mind. Suddenly, a soft knock at the door before it slides open.

My heart skips a beat as Shep walks in, and instantly, anger flares within me. I want to lash out, to demand where he's been and why he suddenly disappeared after confessing he wanted to explore dating. But I bite my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Hey," he says softly, his eyes searching my face. “Your TV was on, so I thought I’d stick my head in. How are you feeling?"

I keep my expression neutral, my voice flat. "Fine."

He shifts uncomfortably, clearly sensing the tension. “I’m on call tonight. I just finished surgery and noticed you were still up.”

"How considerate," I reply, my tone icy.

Shep winces slightly, finally catching on to my mood. He opens his mouth to speak again, but I cut him off.

"It's late, Shep, and I'm tired. Was there something specific you needed?"

His face falls, and for a moment, I almost feel guilty. Almost. But then I remember the radio silence of the past few days, how he left me wondering and worrying after opening up old wounds.

"I... no, I guess not," he stammers, clearly taken aback by my coldness. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

I turn my attention back to the TV, effectively dismissing him. "Well, now you've seen. Goodnight, Dr. Duncan.”

EIGHTEEN

Shep

11:38 pm

I walk out of Elle's room, and it feels like someone punched me in the gut. Her icy reception cuts deep, and I'm at a loss for what just happened. The short, clipped responses and the anger radiating off her in waves. Fuck.

My mind is racing, and my feet carry me down the familiar hallways towards my office. I’m guessing she’s pissed because I haven’t been by. But her fucking boyfriend was in town.

Ari waking up, being swamped with surgeries, and trying to keep things normal for Opie—all of it played a role, too. I’ve had more on my plate lately than Thanksgiving dinner.

As I push open my office door, the weight of everything crashes down on me. I slump into my chair and cradle my head in frustration. Elle's cold demeanor replays in my mind, starkly contrasting the warmth we'd shared just days ago.

My surprise and despair are turning into anger. I’m the one who’s been trying to talk to her. I’m the one who put my heart out there, asking her to consider trying to see if this might go somewhere. She’s the one who slept with me and then obviously has someone else at home.

I pull out my phone, scrolling through our recent messages. My last text to her seems innocuous enough—just checking in. But maybe it wasn't enough.

Fuck her. Her response wasn’t enough. She could have offered more and explained her situation.

The quiet of my office feels oppressive now. I'm upset, yes, but more than that, I'm confused. How did we go from talking about exploring a relationship to this? It's whiplash, and I'm struggling to understand how she expects me to react seeing her holding hands with some dude who was clearly hanging around Birmingham.

Leaning back in my chair, I close my eyes, trying to piece together where this went wrong. But the more I think, the more muddled it becomes. I pick up a wireless mouse on my desktop and throw it.

At the same time, Marijka's head pops into my office. “Whoa. You practicing for spring season?”

“Sorry, it wasn’t working,” I lie. “I got frustrated.”

“I have a quick question about Robert Quick, a patient on my floor. The protocol calls for Q-4, but you have Q-6. I want to make sure that’s what you want us to do.”

She’s referring to how often we check stats and give medication. He has a neuromuscular disease that requires specialized care. I appreciate her attention to detail.

I answer automatically, not going into detail about why I switched protocol for him, but letting her know I’m aware I made the change. Usually, I might explain more, but I don’t have the energy tonight because my mind is still half on Elle.

Marijka turns to leave but then swings back around. "You okay, Dr. Duncan? You look like someone kicked your puppy."

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