Page 26 of Doctor Neighbor

As Buster shifts in his seat, the movement drawing my attention back to his face, I'm struck again by how handsome he is. Those dark, expressive eyes, the strong line of his jaw, the way his lips curve into a smile that makes my heart skip a beat...

I take a deep breath, centering myself. This is the right decision, I tell myself firmly. But as I raise my glass to my lips, I can't help but wonder if I'm really as convinced as I want to be.

The silence stretches between us, thick with the unsaid. Buster leans back, the soft light casting shadows across his face, making him look both familiar and strange. My mind drifts back to that day at the theme park, the scream that pierced through the laughter, the sight that greeted us both. It's a shared memory now, gruesome and binding.

Buster clears his throat. "Have you heard anything about the investigation? I've been in touch with the authorities," he says, his voice low.

I shake my head, a shiver running down my spine at the memory. "No, nothing. I've been trying to keep it out of my mind."

He nods understandingly. “Same.”

“What are they saying?”

“They haven't told me much either, only that they're looking into it." He pauses, then adds, "I did some digging of my own, though. Found out that workers are supposed to be harnessed when working on the rides like that."

My eyes widen. "And he wasn't?"

"Nope." Buster runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched in his features. "It's baffling to think he was up there without one, especially while the park was open."

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. The horrific scene replays in my mind—the body splayed out, blood pooling on concrete. How can someone just... forget something so crucial?

"It's terrifying," I murmur. "To think something like that could happen. That we were both there for it."

Buster meets my gaze, his dark eyes solemn. "Yeah. It's pretty wild, honestly. Most people are there and only focused on the fun part, myself included. I'm so glad my niece didn't see it or have any idea what happened just feet from her. How is your daughter?”

"She was pretty shaken up, mostly because I was covered in blood. But we've talked about it a few times. And I've mostly framed it as an injury. And she accepted that. At least, I think she has. You know, sometimes you don't know the impact of something like that until years later.”

"I don't think I'll ever forget that. And I see gruesome scenes all the time on my operating table. I know death intimately. But that, that was tough."

I nod, wrapping my arms around myself as if to ward off the chill of death that still lingers from what we saw that day.

"And to be working that high up while the park was open..." I trail off, unable to finish the thought.

"We were lucky," he says quietly. "Lucky it wasn't us or someone we love."

The weight of his words settles over us like a blanket, heavy and suffocating. It's a small comfort that we're not alone in this aftermath—we have each other to share this burden with, even if it is only for this moment.

"Yeah," I whisper back, and for a moment, we just sit together, lost in our thoughts about mortality and chance.

I can feel Buster's presence beside me like a steady pulse—a reminder that life goes on, even in the face of tragedy—and I'm grateful for it. Despite the grim topic, I am thankful for this unexpected reconnection and the conversation that flows easier now.

It's strange how disaster can bring people together—or back together—in ways they never expected.

I sip my wine, wanting to change the subject to something lighter. Plus, my curiosity has gotten the better of me. "So, why the move? This place is nice, but it's not exactly where I'd expect to find a hotshot surgeon."

Buster chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hotshot surgeon? I think you've got me confused with someone else."

I roll my eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. His humbleness is endearing. "You know what I mean."

He shifts in his seat, his expression growing more serious. "Well, I recently went through a breakup. Needed a fresh start, you know? Besides the hospital being a bike ride away, you can't beat this location for the hot bars, restaurants, and other little walkable places."

I nod, agreeing on the location and understanding all too well how a relationship ending can upend your entire life.

"This place," he continues, gesturing around us, "is close to the hospital. It makes those late-night emergencies a bit easier to handle. I’m even considering getting a nice bike and biking to work. I haven't gotten there yet, but the thought has crossed my mind."

"Ah, the glamorous life of a surgeon," I tease, some of that easy banter that connected us all those years ago starting to emerge.

Buster smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, something like that."

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