My brow shot up. “Feisty personality?”
She smiled. “While you’re a strong woman, Ish, Remo is infamous for being an asshole of note. What he did to you is inexcusable, but an apology will never be forthcoming. Sitting around aimlessly or hiding yourself is just telling him he controls you. We all know that you’re no quitter nor do you let anyone get the better of you. That’s what makes you shine as a woman and a budding doctor. Remo Rossi will get what’s coming to him and while we wait, I want you to show him that you’re not afraid of him, that you can choose whomever you want to be with.”
“Thank you, Stasia and you’re right. Remo will get his due, in time.” Although I said the words out loud, my heart, boomed in my chest, warning me that holding hope for that to happen was only keeping him present in my mind.
Then there was the tattoo of his name across the most intimate space on my body. How would I explain that to the next man I dated?
Cross that bridge later, Ish.I soothed my nerves.
“Cheers to that.” Trixie and Brandi said in unison, clinking their glasses with mine.
“This date?” I prompted Stasia, ready for a distraction.
“Do you remember me telling you about my friend, Sean?”
“The channel seven news reporter.” I scratched my temple trying to remember if I had the right guy.
She chuckled. “He’s an investigative journalist and yes, for channel seven. Anyway, he flew in from Australia yesterday morning and he’ll be here for a few months, combining work with a little vacation time.”
“Wait. Is he that hot surfer dude that dropped you off at the hospital yesterday morning?” Trixie sat up straighter, her eyes bright with excitement. I’d swear that woman was born with a bee in her bonnet.
Stasia nodded. “What do you think, Ish? A date with my gorgeous nephew might distract you a bit.”
“Sure.” I didn’t second guess my decision because any procrastination would lead to thoughts of a man I wanted to kill and fuck in the same breath.
A chorused, “yay,” from all three followed my response.
“Great, I’ll text you the details.” Stasia buzzed with excitement I couldn’t.
That evening, my spirits were high again while we shared a delicious pasta and meatballs. But as the night wore on, the silence in my head grew louder. I didn’t just hope I never saw Remo again, I feared the moment I did.
thirty-two
. . .
Ishika– 31 years old
Dr. Carlo nodded once, his eyes steady behind the loupe as I guided the final sutures through the delicate weave of tissue that separated life from loss, his silent approval carrying more weight than any applause.
“Good work, Ishika,” he said, his voice muffled by the mask but clear enough to cut through the hum of the theatre. “He’s stable. Go get some rest.”
I stepped back from the table only when the monitor’s steady beep confirmed the rhythm had returned to normal, the sound a quiet victory after six hours of focused precision under his watchful guidance. My hands trembled slightly as I peeled off the gloves, from the adrenaline draining out of my system, leaving behind a fatigue that settled deep in my bones. The operating theatre lights hummed overhead, harsh and unyielding, mirroring the pressure behind my eyes.
Tossing the gloves into the medical waste can, I pushed through the double doors with Trixie following a few seconds later, the cool air of the corridor hitting my sweat-dampened scrubs like a welcome shock.
“I need a bed.” I said to her while we scrubbed down. Cupping my nape, I tilted my head from side to side, to work out the kinks in my neck and my legs felt ready to drop. The early morning run had been a tough one and it was only ten a.m.
“You’ve been at it since three this morning.” Trixie rubbed my arm, gently easing me in the direction of the doctor’s lounge. “Why don’t you go home, I’ll cover the rest of your shift.”
“Thanks, but I don’t have the energy to walk to the bus stop, leave alone board it without falling asleep before I reach home.”
“Go take a nap in the doctors lounge then, you need it.”
I entered the lounge, finding just one other doctor there, reading a magazine and I let out a long, low exhale. “Give me a break,” I grumbled under my breath, not in the mood for company, especially not her.
Guiselle was the queen of hospital gossip and had a knack of finding out everything about everyone. Polite as always, I greeted her with a smile then walked over to the coffee station and poured myself a large one, forgoing milk and sugar this time round. I took a sip of the bitter liquid, sighing. Heaven in a cup right now.
On the verge of sinking into the long sofa opposite her, Guiselle looked up. “Hey, Ishika, I heard you’re dating Remo Rossi. Is it true?”
