Page 62 of Doctor Second Chance

7:01 am

I step off the elevator, two steaming cups of coffee in hand. The floor is moving and shaking, and the shift change appears complete. Fresh nurses scuttle around recording their first vitals. I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips as I approach Elle's room. It's only been a few hours since I left, but I'm eager to see her again.

As I round the corner, I nearly drop the coffees. Elle's room is empty, the bed stripped bare. A cleaning crew bustles about, wiping surfaces and mopping the floor.

My heart hammers in my chest. "Excuse me," I call out, my voice tight. "Where's the patient who was in this room?"

One of the cleaners looks up, shrugging. "Don't know, sir. We just clean 'em."

I spin around, eyes darting up and down the hallway. Did I make a wrong turn? No, this is definitely the right room. I've walked this path enough times to know.

Confusion and worry war within me. Where could she be? Was there a complication? Did they move her to another floor without telling me? I set the coffees down on the nearest surface, barely registering as some sloshes over the rim.

I hurry to the nurses' station, my mind racing through possibilities. "Excuse me," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. I don't recognize any of the nurses on duty right now. "The patient in room 412, Elle Klass. Where is she?"

The nurse behind the desk looks up, her brow furrowing as she taps at her computer. I drum my fingers on the counter, impatience getting the better of me.

"Dr. Duncan?" a voice calls from behind me.

I whirl around, hope and dread warring in my chest.

I follow Maya down the hallway, my heart still racing. The moment I step into the therapy room, relief washes over me like a tidal wave.

"There she is, Dr. Duncan," she gestures toward a table in the back corner.

Elle's long brown hair is down for a change, catching the morning light. She's playing the game Operation with a male therapist, her laughter ringing out as she carefully maneuvers the tweezers.

I take a deep breath, feeling my world right itself again. For those few terrifying moments, my mind had conjured up worst-case scenarios—complications, emergencies, her being whisked away without my knowledge. But here she is, safe and clearly in good spirits.

"Dr. Duncan," Maya says, pulling me from my thoughts. "I'm sorry if we caused any alarm. Dr. Hampton ordered an early morning therapy session, and Elle was up for coming to our therapy room. The cleaners decided to do a full room clean since she would be out for the hour."

I nod, unable to take my eyes off Elle. She looks up, spotting me, and her smile widens. It's like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

"Shep!" she calls out. "Come see how badly I'm losing at this game."

I chuckle and make my way over to the table. The male therapist stands, offering his hand. "Dr. Duncan, I'm Tom. I'm working with Elle on her fine motor skills."

"Nice to meet you, Tom," I say, putting one of the coffees down to shake his hand. I turn to Elle, drinking in the sight of her. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Much better," she says, her eyes twinkling. "Though I think my surgical skills need some work. I've already set off the buzzer three times."

I lean in, pretending to whisper conspiratorially. "Don't worry, I won't tell the medical board."

Elle laughs again, and the sound fills me with warmth. I pull up a chair, settling in beside her. "I brought you a latte. I’m not sure if you're allowed to drink on the job. Mind if I watch the master at work?"

"Be my guest," she says, picking up the tweezers again. "But fair warning, it might shake your confidence in my ability to ever perform surgery."

I glance at my watch, realizing I’ve been sitting here for over thirty minutes, probably hindering their therapy. "I hate to cut this short, but I've got to do a few things in the office and then head home," I tell Elle, my voice tinged with regret. "I'm just glad you weren't abducted by aliens or anything. Finding your room empty and being scrubbed down was more than a little jarring."

Elle's eyes sparkle with amusement. "Sorry about that. I should have left a note: 'Gone to lose spectacularly at Operation. Back soon.'"

I get a good laugh, drinking in the sight of her. Her pink lips curve into a smile, and I'm overwhelmed by the urge to kiss them. The desire courses through me, hot and insistent. But I'm acutely aware that Tom and Maya are nearby, not to mention the other patients in the therapy room. It would be completely inappropriate.

Instead, I stand, purposefully letting my leg brush against hers as I do. The contact, even through the fabric of my scrubs, sends a current through my body louder and with more oomph than the buzz in the game. My heart races, and I have to take a deep breath to steady myself.

"Good luck with your surgery skills," I say, gesturing to the game. "I expect a full report on your progress later."

As I turn to leave, I can still feel the warmth of her leg against mine. My skin tingles and I have to force myself to walk at a normal pace. Every cell in my body seems to be pulling me back toward Elle, urging me to stay, to touch her again.

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