Page 119 of Black Light: Cured

a tidy stack, keeping them where I can still see them.

So many promising offers, but none are good enough to leave D.C. Not yet anyway. In fact, the

only thing that would get me to leave is if I was offered substantially more as well as exclusivity.

Doing rotations at the hospital is fine, but it’s not where my heart is. Someone of my caliber should be

working exclusively with sports teams or celebrities—not handling everyday aches and pains.

That’s what normal surgeons are for. Not me. I studied far too hard to be doing rounds at MedStar.

Granted, out of all the hospitals in the area, it certainly is one of the best. But that’s not what I want.

It’s not what I worked so hard to achieve. I want more, and by the looks of it, I won’t achieve that

while still in D.C.

Looking down at my calendar, I study the list of names on the docket; however, my brain keeps

drifting back to Lila. Even though it’s been a few months, there’s still something about her that sank its

claws in and has refused to let go. Not that I regret meeting her, but I find that I’m more anxious to

leave work and be with her than I am to stay and study up on new procedures and journal articles like

I used to.

That’s what makes all of this so hard. There’s no room to grow here, but she has immediately shut

down the idea of leaving whenever I’ve brought it up. As much as I’ve tried to avoid the reality of my

situation, something tells me that all too soon, I’ll have to make a choice. Lila or my career.

Luckily, none of the offers have been remotely tempting, but in my line of work, I can never say

never. It’s like this black pall hanging over me, a Sword of Damocles that might someday slice this

relationship in two.

Black Light is no longer a place to just relax and soak in the ambiance, it’s my place to play with

Lila and see just how far I can push her. Shifting in my seat, I adjust myself and go back to studying up

on my patients. Most of them are here for normal maintenance, but there’s one in particular I’m

interested in.

After the mini blow up at Lila’s office a few months back, I purposefully moved up the

appointment, wanting to make sure everything was copacetic, and on a healing track with his arm.

Hell, part of me wanted to see him the very next day, but since he hadn’t been complaining about

things getting worse, I decided to let Lila have her chance to work with him. Without any other

medical intervention, his data would prove once and for all that her work is just a placebo effect and

doesn’t actually fix the problem.