Page 76 of The Love Operation

I let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

“Cord—” He reaches for my hand.

I rip it away. “Don’t Cord me, Isaac. If you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t have let these assholes stomp all over me.”

His nostrils flare. “You can’t have it both ways. You told me our relationship couldn’t affect our jobs. Now you’re mad I didn’t fight harder for you?”

I step right into his space. “How dare you. That’s not what this is about.”

He exhales sharply. “You just said, ‘If you cared about me.’ You threatened me from the start—told me to keep our relationship separate. And now you’re angry that I did exactly what you asked?”

I press my palms against my temples, willing the pressure in my skull to subside.

Isaac’s voice softens, but it’s still firm. “You didn’t hear the conversations. I didn’t see a way out that wouldn’t hurt you more. If you make this schedule work, then no one can accuse you of not being a team player.”

Another wave of heat slams into me until I’m sure I’m going to incinerate. “No one should be accusing me of that now! I shouldn’t have to prove myself. I already have!”

I pause, try to catch my breath, settle myself even a little. It doesn’t work.

“Did you even look at the details?” My voice shakes, but I refuse to let it break. “My OR staff will be changing shifts mid-surgery. I’ll be finishing cases with a skeleton night crew. And my block time ends at ten. Ten, Isaac. Do you know what that means?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Not only is this unfair and inefficient and not data driven, we’ll never see each other.”

“It’s only two days.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “I tried not to make it personal,” he whispers.

For the first time, I see it. He’s crumbling.

And I don’t care.

I breathe angry, hot breaths into the quiet. “This is a mistake,” I say finally.

“I’m sorry. Maybe I didn’t handle it the best, and I do see what you’re saying about hospital metrics. But just give it a chance, show that you’re willing to at least try this new schedule. Then you can present a case for why it doesn’t work.”

“I’m not talking about the schedule.” My voice is quiet now, but the words slice clean.

I watch it hit him. The moment he realizes what I mean.

He shakes his head, a little frantic now. “You don’t mean that.” His voice is husky and rough.

I hold his gaze. “I do.” I exhale slowly. “I was naive to think our personal lives wouldn’t get tangled up in our professional ones. My patients are going to suffer because of this. My staff is going to suffer. I told you not to let our relationship affect your business decisions, but now I’m being actively punished for dating the hospital’s COO. You can’t stand up for me, even when it’s right, because you’re afraid of what it might signal to everyone watching.”

I curse the tears that well in my eyes. I refuse to let them fall.

Isaac swears under his breath, then his eyes fly to mine. “I’ll fix it.” He nods twice. “I’ll figure out a way to undo this.”

I shake my head. “It’s too late. You can’t fix this.” I’m not sure to what depth I mean this. The OR schedule or us . . . or both.

I storm out before he can say another word.

“Dr. Wren!” His voice follows me into the hallway.

I don’t stop. I don’t turn. I keep walking, spine straight, head high. If I stop now, I’ll break.

The moment I step past his assistant’s desk, Isaac steps out of his office. “Dr. Wren!”

I glance back just once. “I’m sorry, Mr. Thompson.” My voice is clipped and cold. “I have surgery this morning, and I don’t keep my patients waiting.”