Not a goodbye. Even if his quiet “See you around, Finn” hurt just the tiniest bit somewhere deep in my bones.
By Wednesday afternoon, Tay and I had established something like a rhythm. “Tell me something interesting,” he’d say, startling me out of nowhere while I was elbow-deep in charts or halfway through a yawn.
“Um.” I peered up at him, a little bleary.
“Today’sthing,” he clarified when I’d known, just needed a second to focus my thoughts. “Hit me.”
“Yeah, uh…”
“Ain’t got all day,” he said, teasing.
I was twenty-six—too old to stick my tongue out at him. But damn, it was tempting. “During rounds this morning,” I said. “The baby in 5C managed to poop onto Dr. Novak’s shoes. She didn’t even twitch; it was really impressive.”
“That’s awesome.” Tay’s grin flashed quick and true. “Here’s mine: Parents of the toddler in 8A brought me coffee from outside the hospital. I might want to marry them both.”
“Pretty sure that’s not actually legal,” I said.
“Eh. Details.”
Thursday rolled in with gray skies and a chill that crept under my scrubs and weighed every step down just a little. I caught a glimpse of Jesse leaving just as I arrived, both of us huddled against the October breeze. We exchanged small smiles, mine a little wistful and his…something. I wasn’t sure. No time for more than a quick greeting since I was already running behind my mental plan.
Five minutes later, I stumbled into the break room to meet Tay. He glanced up from dissecting what looked like a homemade granola bar, took in the ID backup slip clipped to my scrubs, and raised both brows. “Badge?”
“Badge, yeah.Again.” Second time this week. I scuffed a hand through my curls. “Meant to run to work and had a small pack ready to go, badge and all. Very organized. But then I woke up too tired and forgot to repack it.”
“Well, hey.” He chuckled around a bite. “Then here’s my interesting thing of the day: I’m not the most scatterbrained guy around here.”
“You’re not scatterbrained at all.” And I usually wasn’t. I fiddled with the clip of my backup ID that I’d obtained after three security checks and a blood oath. Close, anyway. “Seriously, though. This happens one more time, and security will start greeting me by name.”
“Tell them you’re building rapport through repetition,” Tay said.
“Doubt they’ll buy that.” I sighed, the edges of a sore throat brushing my awareness. “My highlight was getting a handle on that new suture you showed me. Practiced some more last night, and now my knots look less like a failed art project and more like actual surgery.”
“Progress.” Tay tilted his head. “On the other hand, might be a devastating loss for modern art.”
By Friday morning, fatigue was creeping into my bones. Must be the shifting seasons—everyone seemed a little tired, a little off. Coffee helped, though, and so did Tay dropping by while I was copy-pasting notes under too-bright lights, my head pounding in time with each mouse click.
“Highlight?” he prompted, leaning his hip against the desk.
“Caught a minor error before it became a real issue.” I rubbed at my chest. “Yours?”
“I successfully convinced a terrified four-year-old that my stethoscope is a magic necklace. Morally ambiguous, but effective.”
My chuckle scraped a little against the back of my throat. Stupid cold. “Classic case of end justifying the means, right? Any ethics board would clear you.”
Jesse and me, on the other hand… Nope. Not thinking about that.
“That’s what I thought, yeah.” Tay’s eyes lingered a moment longer than usual, thoughtful. “Hey, you’re looking a little rough around the edges. Feeling okay?”
“Just tired.” I waved it off, voice raspier than I’d intended. “Season change, right?”
“Sure.” He looked unconvinced, though. “But please humor me—make it an early night, okay? No after-hours practice sessions.”
Sleep sounded heavenly. Preferably for about three weeks, or maybe a decade.
“Early night,” I agreed, nodding even as I fought off the tickle in my throat. A decent rest, and I’d be as good as new. I better be—I was on for a full day tomorrow, and I wasn’t keen to drag myself through it floating purely on caffeine and determination.
“That’shim?” Tessa asked. She’d redyed her hair to a pale shade of blond, with only one pink strand left. “That’syour new supervisor?”
