“I’m not desperate.”
“No, you’re not.” Shane’s chuckle was warm, kind. “But you’re half in love with someone you can’t have, and that’s not your average Tuesday.”
I thought about protesting the assumption, but…fuck it. Shane knew me. So I nodded, took a bite of my croissant, and waited for the sugar coating to chase away the caffeine bitterness.
It worked—well enough, anyway, to let me pretend I wasn’t still thinking about the way Finn had looked on my bed, golden skin against navy sheets.
A one-time lapse in judgment.
The glass door of Dr. Novak’s office gave a milky view of her pacing inside as she read over some document, sleeves pushed up and hair as sharp as ever. Behind her, the twin-separation timeline loomed like a war plan.
All right. Let’s rip off the Band-Aid.
I knocked.
She turned, took in my street clothes with a quick glance, and waved me in. “Dr. Maddox. You’re not even scheduled today.”
“Figured I’d get a jump start on the week.” I stepped inside and closed the door, striving for a calm expression. Normal, yeah. Except, uh, what did normal look on me—a smile, something more neutral? Polite interest?
“Commendable,” she said, dry as the creek behind my folks’ place by mid-July. “With just a hint of overachievement, perhaps. I hear rest isn’t only for the wicked.”
There was a joke in there, right? Or maybe just a special brand of irony given Novak was rumored to keep a sleepingmat under her desk so she needn’t waste time going home. We actually lived in the same area, but I’d never spotted her shopping for groceries or grabbing a coffee—normal things you’d do if your apartment was more than an occasional pit stop to change clothes. So, yeah, watercooler gossip might have gotten it marginally right. For once.
I reached for a half-assed chuckle. “Lies, if you ask me.”
“Indeed.” She arched a thin eyebrow. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Yesterday,” I said. “In PICU.”
She nodded. “Solid judgment in a high-pressure situation. I said it already, but well done. That baby’s got a real shot now.”
Praise that would have made me glow fordaysjust a couple of months ago. Now the buzz under my skin barely quieted—not nerves, not quite. More like the echo of last night, still vibrating in my bones.
“Thank you.” I managed a grateful smile. “About that, though—yesterday. Dr. Hayes assisted me. He was…invaluable. Far beyond what you’d expect from a first-year resident.”
Novak watched me, sharp and alert. “And?”
Keep it cool, simple.
“We were in it together. He ran up the blood, then helped me keep her breathing.” I shrugged a careful shoulder and reached for the words that I’d prepared with Shane’s help. “It wasn’t a senior-junior dynamic in that moment—it couldn’t be. We were equals trying to keep a baby alive. After that, I can’t look at him the way I look at the others. I’m afraid that compromises my ability to evaluate him objectively for the rest of his rotation.”
There. Neatly packaged, technically honest.
Brief surprise showed on her face. “You want to step back as his supervising fellow.”
“Yes.” I swallowed. “It’s not just about actual bias; it’s also about the perception of it. Dr. Carter would be well placed to take over. I’d still be available for advice, obviously.”
She studied me for a beat, as if trying to assess the things I hadn’t said. No—just guilt-induced paranoia. She had no way of knowing.
“Good surgeons,” she said then, “know when to ask for second opinions. Good educators do the same. Recognizing when you’re compromised is a valuable skill. Hone it.”
Well, given the circumstances, it didn’t take a genius to see that I had no business rating Finn’s performance—not when I could have extended my feedback to what he was like in bed.10/10, would fuck again.Yeah, that’d raise some eyebrows.
“I’m trying,” I said, with another smile that felt slightly off-kilter. I fought to hold her gaze.
“Good. Inform Carter he’s taking the lead, log the change in the system.” She paused. “For the Jackson twins—you’re first assist on my side, Hayes is with us. Dr. Lee is already training his team for the other twin, and he won’t be keen to make a change. I assume this won’t be an issue?” While phrased like a question, it was clearly meant as an instruction.
“Of course not,” I said.
