Page 47 of Phoenix Rising

Lucinda’s tone hardened. "I didn't ask for your help." She pulled away, and Becky let her. "We're done."

"How can you be so cold?" Becky hissed.

And there it was—Lucinda's curse that she could never escape. She was surprised Becky had lasted this long, and disappointment thrummed through her.

"I'm not being cold. I'm just trying to be realistic. Our relationship has been complicated from the start, and I think we need to accept that maybe we’re not right for each other."

Becky’s tone was acidic. "Not right for each other? You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’re not right for each other. But don’t pretend like you’re the one who’s got it all figured out. You’re the one who couldn’t handle things when they got tough."

Lucinda’s face remained impassive, her eyes reflecting a mixture of resolve and sadness. "It’s not about figuring things out perfectly. It’s about understanding our limitations and respecting them. I don’t think I’m in a position to offer you what you need right now."

Becky’s hands clenched into fists. "And what exactly do I need, Lucinda?"

"Constant attention." She let the comment hang in the air before she continued. "I want you to understand that this isn’t easy for me either. I’m dealing with my shit, and right now, I need to focus on my work and my own well-being."

Lucinda’s expression remained distant. She continued, "I think it’s best if we take some time apart. If we’re meant to be together in the future, we’ll find our way back. But for now, this is what I need."

Becky’s eyes filled with tears of frustration. "You know what? Fine. If you want to shut me out and be distant, that’s your choice. But don’t expect me to walk away without feeling like I’ve been pushed aside. At the end of the day, I just wanted to care for you."

With that, Becky turned on her heel and walked toward the exit. Lucinda watched her go, feeling a pang of regret but maintaining her cold, composed exterior. The distance between them was a chasm that seemed impossible to traverse.

Lucinda stayed glued to the brick wall, feeling that if she tried to step away, she would topple over. She had tried to maintain her professionalism, but it had come at the cost of her personal feelings.

As Lucinda returned to her duties, her thoughts were a jumble of unresolved emotions. Why did she feel like this? Breaking things off with Iris hadn't felt this traumatic, and Iris had actually been her girlfriend.

The night wore on, and the hospital continued its relentless pace. Lucinda threw herself into her work, trying to push aside the lingering taste of regret and confusion. She had made her decision, and now she had to live with the consequences, even if it meant confronting the reality of her broken relationship with Becky.

Lucinda’s office, usually a sanctuary of order and calm, now felt like a cage of her own making. She closed the door behind her with a weary sigh and sank into her chair, staring blankly at the chaotic assortment of files and medical charts cluttering her desk. That's how terrible she felt; she had let her life become disorganized.

The piles of paperwork that had accumulated during the emergency needed attention. She began to sift through the documents with shaking hands, her mind still replaying the words exchanged with Becky. She took a deep breath andtried to tidy the papers, but something cracked within her. A hurt sob tumbled from her mouth as she sank to the floor.

She felt like the devil. Her curse was to freeze as many hearts as possible, leaving only destruction in her path. Lucinda wanted to be loved so badly, but it never worked—and it never would.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Clara. She sniffed as she glanced at the screen.

Clara:Dr. Everett, just a reminder about the board meeting tomorrow afternoon. Don’t forget the new trauma protocols review.

Lucinda’s mind was barely engaged with the message, so she threw her phone at the wall and cracked the screen. She didn't care.

She glanced at the clock; it was already past midnight. Exhaustion tugged at her limbs, but her mind refused to quiet. She needed to process what had transpired, and working might be the only way to distract herself from the whirlwind of emotions. She forced herself to tackle the paperwork, fill out patient reports, and review case studies from earlier in the day. The repetitive tasks provided a small measure of solace, but the work itself felt hollow.

At around 2 a.m., her phone rang again. This time, it was a call from the hospital’s head of surgery, Dr. Mars. “Dr. Everett, I know it’s late, but we have a situation. One of our burn victims from tonight’s incident has developed complications. We need a consult.”

Lucinda’s heart raced again, this time from a different kind of adrenaline. She pushed aside her turmoil and donned her professional mask. “I’ll be right there.”

The burn unit was a stark environment, with its own harsh lights and sterile smell. Lucinda walked briskly through the corridors. She found Dr. Mars waiting for her in the unit, her face lined with concern.

“Dr. Everett,” she said, greeting her with a nod. “The patient’s condition has worsened. We’re dealing with severe infections and respiratory distress. I need you to lead this.”

Lucinda nodded, her clinical mind taking over. She examined the patient, the young firefighter who had been among those brought in earlier. The extent of the complications was severe, but Lucinda’s years of experience in trauma care had prepared her for such situations.

She issued a series of commands to the team, coordinating treatment and adjusting medications. Her focus was absolute, her professionalism unshaken. Hours slipped by as she worked tirelessly, the intensity of the case consuming her thoughts. The problem-solving aspect of medicine, the technicalities, the urgency—these were familiar territories, and they offered a welcome distraction from her personal distress.

Lucinda could tell Dr. Mars was studying her out of the corner of her eye. Did she know about her and Becky? She had to, being Becky's best friend. She pushed the thought away. It wasn't her business.

By the time the situation stabilized, the sun was beginning to rise. Lucinda was physically and mentally drained but relieved that she had managed to turn a dire situation around. She scrubbed out, her hands feeling raw from the repeated washing, and took a moment to collect her thoughts. The burn unit was quieter now, and the crisis was averted for the moment.

The air was cool and crisp. Early morning dewsettled on the lawn outside the hospital. The fresh air eased her mind slightly.

---