Her.
She was the shining light despite it all.
Randi found her rhythm in the quiet spaces between his. It wasn’t what she had imagined love would look like. She hadn’t really anything to compare it to, other than what she remembered was shared between her parents. That was what she wanted, and she was determined to give it her all.
She remained busy building her catalog of canvases and brought to life those photos she captured with her cell on the ranch, the mustangs, and Montana’s beautiful landscape.
She showed up at his office one afternoon with takeout balanced carefully in her hands, the receptionist offering her a knowing smile as she passed through.
“He’s still in with a patient,” she said gently.
“That’s okay,” Randi replied. “I’ll wait.”
When he finally stepped out and saw her sitting there, something in his expression shifted instantly. The tightness around his mouth and eyes relaxed.
“You brought lunch,” he said, almost surprised.
“You looked like you needed to be reminded,” she answered lightly.
They ate in his office, the conversation easy but brief, time always pressing in around them. Still, it was enough. More than enough. Every moment spent together was priceless and mattered.
Evenings were harder to hold onto.
Most late nights he went straight to her place because she was closer to the hospital, and they had decided it was best if he kept some clothes there. He always arrived drawn; exhaustion deeply defined into every line on his face.
They ordered in more than not, the effort of cooking replaced by the comfort of simply being together. Movies played quietly in the background, neither of them truly watching, her curled into his side as his arm settled around her with a familiarity that felt both new and long overdue.
One night, midway through a film neither of them had chosen with any real intention, his breathing shifted. It slowed and then steadied peacefully.
When she glanced up, she noticed he had fallen asleep. Randi didn’t move. She didn’t want to. There was something about seeing him like that—unguarded, uncontained, that settled something deep inside her. This was the man no one else saw.
Not the surgeon. Not the composed, capable presence everyone relied on. Just him.
She reached for the remote with her left hand, turning the volume down before letting her head rest lightly against his chest.
For a moment, she allowed herself to believe in it fully. There was no hesitation in her thought. No waiting for it to disappear. Just this, comfortable, connected, and deeply in love.
Randi glanced at her wall calendar. A month had already gone by. It was hard to believe, and she quickly pulled out her cell to double-check if it was correct.
Thirty-two days to be exact.
Her first thought was a celebration. The absence of time was her reality. She had to do something to mark the occasion. Checking with his assistant was her first thought. She’d find the timeand work it into his schedule somehow.
Brew was halfway through his day when his cell rang for the third consecutive time. Same number he didn’t recognize.
He almost didn’t take it. But something made him pause, step away from the noise of the hallway, and answer.
“This is Dr. Clay.”
The voice on the other end was direct, professional.
He listened. At first, with disbelief, then without reaction, and finally with a growing stillness.
Hah! A what? A Department Chair position back in Montana.
By the time the call ended, he hadn’t moved. The hallway around him continued as it always did - voices, footsteps, urgency - but it all seemed distant now and muted.
He looked out the window, toward nothing … in particular. Then his eyes slowly scanned everything circulating around him. The words finally sinking in.
