“They’re talking about you and Mireya. People are gossiping about what happened at the conference in Boston. They want to know if something is happening between the two of you.”
My hands stopped typing. “Who exactly is doing the talking?”
“Just about everyone. I’ve heard it from the nurses, the residents, and even the attending physicians who have nothing better to do.” He paused. “It isn't necessarily malicious talk. People are just curious because the 'Ice King' is finally showing interest in a human being.”
“I haven’t shown any inappropriate interest. We have remained professional at all times.”
“You have been acting differently lately. You‘re less cold and a bit more human. People tend to notice those kinds of changes in a person like you.”
I dragged my hands down my face. “What are they saying specifically about us?”
“They know you went to Boston together. They noticed that you're much gentler with her in the OR than you are with anyone else. Rumor has it that she moved into your house because a resident saw her entering your building.” He held up a hand to stop me when I opened my mouth to argue. “I know the actual reason is for Emma’s medical supervision, but most people are unaware of that detail. They just see a woman living in your private residence.”
“It's nobody’s business but our own,” I snapped.
“You’re right about that, but hospital politics don't care about what should be private.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m not telling you this to make you paranoid. But you need to be fully aware of the situation. People are paying very close attention to your every move.”
“Let them watch all they want. We haven’t done anything wrong or illegal.”
"Have you formally disclosed the relationship to HR yet?"
I paused.
"We're planning to."
"You should probably do it sooner. Before someone else does it for you."
With that final warning, he got up and left my office.
We tried so hard to be careful about our behavior, yet it still was not enough to keep the rumors at bay.
The department meeting that afternoon followed the usual routine of surgical schedules and staffing updates. I presented my upcoming cases with my standard level of detail and professionalism.
But the weight of the room's attention never lifted. A representative from the board sat at the far end of the long conference table. She was an older woman with a sharp gaze whom I had seen at various conferences but never spoke with directly.
She watched me while I talked and it felt different from a typical professional assessment, as if she were looking for a crack in my armor that she could exploit. When the meeting finally ended, she offered me a neutral nod that made my stomach drop.
Three days later, my administrative assistant mentioned something in passing that caught my attention.
“Dr. Henley has requested a formal meeting with the administration,” she said while dropping off a stack of paperwork on my desk. “It's weird because he never attends administration meetings.”
“Dr. Henley?” I asked, trying to place the name.
“He’s a cardiologist who works mostly on the third floor. I believe he was also at that medical conference in Boston last week.”
Boston.
My hands went cold.
“Did they mention what the meeting was about?”
“I have no idea. It's just more hospital gossip.” She shrugged. “It's probably nothing important.”
She left the room. I sat there trying to remember if I had even seen Henley while we were in Boston. I couldn't place his face or remember a single interaction with the man during the entire trip.
That lack of memory only made it worse.
Two days later, I received a formal email from the Chief of Staff requesting my presence for a discussion regarding "departmental matters."
