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From the first words that were spoken to me by her mother, I knew we’d have a lot of mending to do.
“If you’ve killed my daughter, I will make your life a living hell,” Stevie’s mother hissed at me.
After meeting her mother, I became even angrier that her damn father, the award-winning surgeon, the man who ran an entire hospital and preached the importance of a strong recovery network, had not been to visit her once.
The feeling steeped like an old bag of tea inside of me, and I felt it rotting me from the inside out, the weight of Stevie’s soul pressing down upon me. I was being hollowed out by bitterness, rage, and even the creeping sensation of hopelessness that was beginning to sink in.
I had to get out of the room, the four walls where I was becoming convinced that Stevie would die.
And where did I find myself?
In front of an office—but not mine. The door was polished wood, and I stared at it, before one fist raised and knocked.
I waited.
No answer.
I knocked again.
No answer.
At that point, I lost it a little bit and began pounding on the wood, before twisting the doorknob and bursting into the office.
He was in a goddamned meeting. His daughter could be dying, and Dr. AaronfuckingChristophers was in ameeting. He sat with three official-looking people around a table, and they were all staring up at me with a look of surprise.
Aaron Christophers recovered immediately, a storm brewing in his eyes.
“Apologies,” he said politely to his guests. “Could you give me a moment?”
They both nodded and Christophers ushered me out of the door, shutting it behind him as he came with me. His face was expressionlessly stern, and I stalked him to a conference room where he closed the door, shutting us in.
“What thehelldo you think you’re doing, barging in like that?” he growled. “Between this and your increasingly unprofessional conduct with mydaughter, I should fire you!”
I let out a derisive laugh and narrowed my eyes.
“Yourdaughteris why I’m here! She is in the ICU in your hospital! She could arrest and die at any moment, and you want to talk about my unprofessional conduct? How about yours? How about you not giving a damn about her?!”
He fixed me with a look that would have scared me if I wasn’t so angry.
“You think I’m doing nothing? Those people are lawyers! I am trying to make sure that when she wakes up, she doesn’t have medical bills and months off work hanging over her head!”
“Oh, bullshit. If you were worried about the medical bills, you’d waive them, or you’d have her covered under your insurance as a dependent! As it is, the hospital will be paying her disability benefit until she is well and truly ready to return to work! You’rehidingbecause if people knew just what kind of person you really are, they’d revolt! They’d kick you out of the office and actually put someone who gives a damn in your place!”
While I yelled, his face had grown steadily redder, finally settling into a disturbing shade of purple that I was sure wasn’t good for his heart. Frankly, I didn’t care. The man could have collapsed on the floor in front of me, and I probably would have called the crash team instead of starting CPR myself. See how he liked being comatose and ignored by the people that were supposed to love him.
“Stephanie is going to wake up, and when she does, you have two options,” he said in a dangerously low tone. “You will either cease all contact with her that isn’t required by your professional boundaries, or you will get out of my hospital and move so far away that you never see her again.”
I couldn’t help it.
Before my brain caught up to my body, my fist was swinging wide and connecting with his jaw. The man stumbled backward, and my hand throbbed where bone had met bone. He held his face tenderly and stared at me like he couldn’t believe I’d just hit him.
“Get out,” he growled.
“Gladly,” I snapped, and pushed my way out of the room.
I had just made everything so much worse than it needed to be.
* * *
