Page 65 of Shadows of Recovery

She shrugged dismissively. “Maybe. Doesn’t change the fact he’s a mess.”

“Let me see the chart.” He extended his hand.

Kay handed it over with a smirk. Her long red manicured fingernails grazed his hand. “Why are you here so late anyway?”

“I should ask you the same thing. I’ve checked on the Institute’s patients at this hour since I returned from New York.” Tristan’s expression softened as he thought of Sophie. “As you saw, I admitted Sophie today and waited for her to fall asleep,” he said quietly, not meeting Kay’s eyes.

Her mouth twitched, a nasty comment clearly on the tip of her tongue. But then she said it anyway. “You’re killing yourself staying with her constantly. You do realize she’s not Mimi.”

It was a blow to his heart. Mimi, his first love, had taken her life after being raped. He wasn’t there to support her. That wouldn’t happen with Sophie. He’d be dead first.

Tristan didn’t wait for Kay to say anything further. He looked at her ebony hair, not a strand out of place, her pale complexion and ruby-red lips. He couldn’t believe he once found her attractive. Now she appeared cold and calculating.

He scanned the chart she handed him, his frown deepening. “Where are the blood test results?”

Kay blinked. “I… I don’t have them,” she admitted.

Tristan’s patience was wearing thin. “Kay, we need those results to properly treat this patient. This isn’t a game.” His shoulders rose.

Kay crossed her arms, her jealousy flaring. “It’s not like he’s going to die without them tonight. And, honestly, Tristan, you’re spreading yourself too thin. Between Sophie, the hospital and this place, you’re running yourself ragged.”

Tristan shot her an angry look. “I’m fine, Kay. Sophie needs me right now, and so do our patients. Sam and James have picked up the extra medical load. If you can’t handle your normal share, maybe you should reconsider your position here.”

Kay’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare question my dedication. I’ve been here longer than anyone, including Sophie. I was the one who saved you, not the perfect Sophie.”

Tristan roared, “This isn’t about Sophie being perfect. Nor is it about you being there years ago. It’s about doing our jobs and taking care of our patients NOW.”

Kay bit her lip, trying to keep her temper in check. “I just don’t want to see you burn out, Tristan. You can’t save everyone.”

“I know that.” Tristan brought himself back under control. “Now, please, get those blood test results.”

“Get them yourself,” Kay huffed, stood and turned on her heel, leaving Tristan alone with the chart.

He rubbed his temples, feeling the day pressing down on him. As he glanced at the clock, he saw it was close to midnight. He had to keep going, for Sophie, and for the patients.

As he walked down the hall, he found Matt, the head nurse, on the ward, sitting at a pull-down desk reading a chart on another patient. “Hey, Matt. Do you have the blood test results for the new admission?”

Matt nodded, handing over a file. “Kay didn’t give them to you?”

Tristan shook his head, opened the file and quickly read through the results. His eyes widened slightly as he realized the extent of Kay’s mistakes. “No, she didn’t. And it looks like she missed something crucial again.”

Matt frowned. “That’s the third time this month. What are you going to do about her?”

“I’ll deal with it later. Let’s go see the patient.” Tristan led the way to the new admission’s room.

When Matt pointed to a treatment room, Tristan kept his temper in check, asking how long he had been waiting here. “Kay didn’t notify a house MD?”

Matt shook his head. “She didn’t page anyone, as far as I know.”

Tristan stopped and faced him. “You mean to tell me he’s been waiting for two hours? Why didn’t you page me?”

“Kay said you didn’t want to be disturbed.” Matt appeared sheepish.

“I’m never undisturbable.” Tristan rolled his neck and opened the door.

The room was dimly lit. A nursing assistant sat beside the patient holding a basin for him to throw up in. “Hi, Jake, I’m Dr. Tristan Blackwell. I’m here to help you,” he said gently, pulling up a chair beside the bed.

Jake Daniels nodded weakly. “Thank you, Doctor. I feel like I’m dying. But I can’t live dose to dose anymore.”

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