Page 66 of Doctor One Night

“Shit, Jill, I—” I start, but she’s already nodding, understanding written all over her face.

“You have a lot on your mind, Dr. Parrish. Just get in there.”

I slam my laptop shut, pushing back from my desk and practically leaping to my feet. All thoughts of compassionate use and Grace Petit are shoved to the back of my mind as I rush out of the office, Jill already moving ahead of me to make sure everything’s in place.

This is what I’m here for, after all—surgery. The catastrophes I’m expected to thwart will have to wait a little while longer.

Shain Park

7:08 pm

The early evening air is cooler than I expected as I walk down the quiet street, the sun dipping low on the horizon. After the day I’ve had, I needed this—needed to get out of the hospital, away from the blank walls and endless responsibilities. But more than that, I need to see Frankie.

I reach for my phone, hesitation prickling at the back of my mind. It’s been a long day and I can’t shake the urge to hear her voice, to see her. So I send her a quick text, asking if she’s up for a walk and maybe grabbing something to eat. I’m relieved when her reply comes back almost immediately.

Sure. I could use a break. Meet you at the park in 20?

The familiar sight of Frankie waiting by the fountain brings a small sense of calm to my otherwise chaotic mind. Seeing her long, toned legs in her athletic shorts and a tank top almost makes me forget about the shitshow of a day I've had. She smiles when she sees me, and inside I melt.

“Hey,” I say as I approach, that familiar flutter in my chest when she’s near.

“Hey, yourself,” she replies, falling into step beside me as we start walking down the path. “Bad day?”

“You could say that,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “How about you?”

She nods, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah. Busy. Got your email about the compassionate use for Grace.”

I glance at her, trying to gauge her reaction. I know this is a big ask—maybe even too big—but Grace doesn’t have much time. “What do you think?”

She takes a deep breath, clearly choosing her words carefully. “Hunter, you know how much I care about this trial. I’ve spent years working on this device, even before our official research at UAB started, perfecting the science behind it. If we approve compassionate use for Grace, it’s outside the trial, and anything that goes wrong could jeopardize the entire study. It could even put an end to it.”

I can hear the concern in her voice, and I get it. This trial, this device, it’s her life’s work. She’s put everything into it, and the stakes are incredibly high.

“I know, Frankie. And I respect that, more than you know. But Grace, she’s not just another patient. She’s been at that hospital since before I went to med school. She’s the glue that holds that OR floor together. Without this pacemaker, she won’t make it. It’s not just about data and numbers and reports, it’s about saving her life.”

Frankie stops walking, turning to face me. Her deep emerald green eyes search mine, looking for something.

“Hunter, I understand where you’re coming from. I do. But we have to be responsible. We have to consider the risks, not just for Grace, but for the future of this device, for all the other patients who could benefit from it down the line.”

I take a deep breath, the heaviness of her words, the truth in them. But I can’t shake the image of Grace lying in that hospital bed, clinging to life.

“I know the risks, Frankie. I do. But I also know the promise of it. Grace doesn’t have a future at all if we don't at least try. This device was designed for patients like her, who don’t have any other options. I just can’t stand by and do nothing when I know the solution is within my reach.”

She looks down at the ground, her shoulders tense. “I just don’t want to lose everything we’ve worked for because we rushed into something.”

Her words seem more poignant than ever. Not just about the trial and Grace, but every storm swirling around me.

I step closer, gently tilting her chin up so she has to meet my gaze. “We’re not rushing into anything. We would be making a calculated decision.”

She searches my eyes for a long moment, and I can see the conflict written all over her face. But slowly, she nods. “Okay. Let's put it before the IRB and see what they say. Theo said ultimately the decision was up to me. We can’t cut corners.”

“We won’t,” I promise. “We're in this together.”

We stand there for a moment, the park quiet around us. There is a swell of gratitude for this woman standing in front of me. She’s smart, determined, and fiercely protective of her work. But more than that, she’s compassionate, and that’s what makes her so damn hot.

The short athletic shorts and tight ass don't hurt.

“Thank you, Frankie,” I say quietly.

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