Then six. The attending.
Which left Evie and Maggie alone for the final two floors.
The doors closed.
Neither of them moved.
“Hi,” Maggie said quietly.
“Hi,” Evie replied, still facing forward.
“This is awful. I miss you,” Maggie admitted.
“Completely terrible,” Evie agreed.
“I want to kiss you.”
“Maggie—”
“I know. I won’t. But I want to.”
Evie finally turned to look at her. Maggie was staring straight ahead at the doors, jaw tight, hands gripping her tablet like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
“Me too,” Evie said softly. “But we can do this. One day at a time.”
The elevator chimed. Seventh floor.
“See you at home?” Maggie asked.
“I’ll be there by seven,” Evie promised.
The doors opened. Maggie stepped out without looking back.
Evie rode up one more floor, then leaned against the wall and let herself breathe.
One day down. One hundred and eighty-two to go.
It was Morrison who finally broke the tension later that afternoon.
“Hey Brooks,” he said as they walked between patient rooms. “I heard Laurel’s back today.”
Evie’s jaw tightened. “She is.”
“That’s gonna be weird for you, right?”
“Why would it be weird?” Evie kept her voice neutral, professional.
Morrison shrugged. “I don’t know. Just... you were on her service. Then the transfer. The suspension. People are gonna be watching to see how you two interact.”
“Then people need to find better things to do with their time,” Evie said flatly.
Morrison held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just saying?—”
“Well, don’t,” Evie interrupted. “Doctor Laurel is an excellent physician. I learned a lot from her. That’s all anyone needs to know.”
She walked away before he could respond, heart pounding.
That night, when Evie finally made it to Maggie’s apartment, she was starting to think of it—Maggie was already there, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine she hadn’t touched.
