Page 118 of Dr. Damaged Protector

I turned my attention to the student doctors who had come to learn the practical aspect of transplants. They all had worried looks on their faces.

“Students, look, if you can't become good enough to do this with your eyes closed or while complaining about your girlfriend who seems to be going through a serious problem but refuses to discuss - and you don't know what to do about it - then you had better not become doctors at all, do you all understand?”

“Yes, sir,” they said in chorus.

“Must better,” I nodded, then turned my attention to her. “You're her friend, so tell me what's going on.”

“I have no idea,” she replied with honesty. “She talks about you…a lot when not working. That's why I'm struggling to understand what you're complaining about.”

“She talks about me? What does she say?” I asked, my curiosity fully piqued.

“Why would I tell you what she says?” she smirked. “You can ask her yourself.”

I focused on the patient and concluded the kidney transfer.

“And that's all,” I announce before turning my attention to the students. “Which one of you will do the stitching?”

They raised their hands with confidence. We had been training all of them, and most were already on the level of a professional surgeon. I didn't have any problem leaving the stitching to any one of them.

“Max, you do it,” I said as I pointed at one of the students. He had been the first to raise his hand.

“Alright, sir,” he said as he got to work immediately.

Jane and I watched while our conversation continued.

“When did you notice that she was acting differently?” Jane asked.

I thought about it. “Right around the time I had asked her to make things official.”

“Could it be that she doesn't want to be official?” I asked.

“That doesn't make sense; she was excited about it,” Jane replied.

“That, she was,” I agreed. “Then what exactly could be the problem?”

“Like I said, you just have to ask her directly,” she advised. “Max is fast with his fingers.”

“I guess.” I was no longer interested. “I'll go check in on her.”

****

I left the operating room and made my way to her office, but she wasn't in. Her colleagues next door told me that she had gone to the front desk. I made my way to there and asked them the same question; but they looked a bit worried as if they should have the answer.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“Well, you know how young ones are when it comes to love,” the receptionist said, “but a man has been visiting during lunch period. She doesn't look so happy to see him, so nothing is really going on. She entertains him for two to five minutes max and she's back at work.”

“Is he with her right now?” I asked.

“Yes, he arrived a minute ago,” the lady replied.

I made my way to the front door. Just as I got there, I noticed a man leaving. As the receptionist had described, she didn't look happy. It looked like she was forcing herself to talk to him. After sighing loudly, she made her way back inside, where I was waiting.

“Can I see you in my office?” I asked.

“All right,” she agreed and followed behind me as we made our way to my office.

“So what's up?” she asked, closing the door behind her.

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