Page 45 of Never Quite Gone

Sometimes even healers need to break a little, to remember why they heal at all.

I picked up the coffee Vale had brought – a peace offering, a recognition, a moment of humanity between adversaries. Its warmth had faded, but something of its intention remained.

Vale hadn't moved from his chair, his presence unusually still in my normally private space. The coffee between us had gone completely cold, but neither of us seemed inclined to acknowledgeit. Something had shifted in the quiet dawn light, some wall lowered that I hadn't even known existed.

“I'm placing you on leave,” Vale said finally, his voice lacking its usual sharp edge. “Two weeks, paid. Time to...” He paused, choosing his words with unusual care. “Process recent events.”

I stiffened. “You don’t have the authority to do that.”

“We’re both department heads,” he acknowledged. “Neurology doesn’t outrank Emergency—not in any real way.” He met my glare without flinching. “Which is why I went to the board first.”

Anger flared, burning through the exhaustion weighing me down. “You went over my head?”

“You left me no choice,” he countered smoothly. “You haven’t taken a single day off since—“ He stopped, but we both knew what he meant.

“My department is running fine,” I shot back. “I don’t need a forced vacation.”

“You argued the same thing with them,” he said. “And yet, here we are.”

My protest had been automatic, more reflex than real conviction, and Vale had met each of my points with the same quiet certainty. Still, I found myself really looking at him for perhaps the first time. Shadows lurked under his eyes, something that looked remarkably like regret aging his usually perfect features.

“Is this official censure?” I asked, but we both knew it wasn’t.

His smile held no triumph, only a tired understanding that felt strangely familiar. “No. This is... one doctor recognizing when another needs space to breathe.”

The words themselves were simple enough, but something in his tone made my exhausted mind stutter. Vale had never shown this side before.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The usual push and pull between us had quieted into something else, something unfamiliar. I should have kept fighting, should have insisted that I wasfine. But the truth was, I wasn’t even sure what “fine” was supposed to feel like anymore.

Vale exhaled, a slow, measured breath. “Take the leave, Dr. Monroe.” His voice carried something I'd never heard from him before—not quite kindness, but perhaps its older cousin. “Some patterns need to be broken.”

A knock interrupted whatever response I might have formed. Sofia stood in my doorway, concern written clearly across her features.

Vale rose smoothly, his usual polished demeanor settling back into place like armor. But something of that shared understanding lingered in his eyes as he nodded to both of us.

“Two weeks,” he reminded me. “Not a day less.”

I watched him leave, trying to reconcile this version of him with the man who'd been my professional nemesis for so long.

Sofia lingered nearby, watching me with that sharp, assessing gaze of hers. After a beat, she crossed her arms. “What was that about?”

I let out a slow breath, rubbing a hand over my face. “Vale had me put on leave. Two weeks, paid.” The words felt strange coming out of my mouth, like they belonged to someone else.

Her brows lifted. “He can do that?”

“He got it approved before he even came to me,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Apparently, arguing was just a formality.”

Sofia sighed, then reached for my bag, helping me gather my things with the same steady presence that had kept me from completely unraveling more times than I could count. “He’s right, you know,” she said softly. “About needing space sometimes.”

“I don't know how to do this,” I admitted quietly. “How to just... stop. Take time.”

“Maybe that's exactly why you need to.” Sofia squeezed my shoulder gently. “Two weeks to process not just today, but everything else that's been happening. All the changes, all the memories, all the things you've been trying so hard to rationalize away.”

The sun had fully risen now, painting the hospital in colorsthat felt both foreign and achingly familiar. Two weeks stretched ahead – time I hadn't allowed myself since Michael's death. Time to face not just today's loss but all the questions I'd been avoiding.

“Will you be alright?” I asked Sofia, doctor's instinct making me worry about leaving my department.

Her smile held fond exasperation. “We managed without you before you were chief. We'll manage for two weeks.” She started gathering files I'd been reaching for. “No work. Vale's orders, and for once, I agree with him.”

---