14. Shep

FOURTEEN

Shep

5:18 pm

I step out of the operating room, peeling off my surgical gown and gloves. The aneurysm clipping was touch-and-go for a while, but we managed to secure it without complications. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't eaten since breakfast.

After updating the family on their loved one's successful surgery, I head for the cafeteria. My mind drifts to Elle and our conversation earlier. I'd put myself out there, suggesting we explore dating. It felt both terrifying and exhilarating.

During her coma, I did a lot of soul-searching. Regrets from our past haunted me, and I mourned the lost years. Her brush with death made me acutely aware of these facts, and I didn't want to lose the opportunity to try again if given the chance. Even though I was confident in her recovery based on her trajectory of improvements over the days she was in a coma, the experience shook me to my core.

"Dr. Duncan!" Carly calls out as I pass the nurses' station. I nod and smile, my thoughts still swirling. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you. Any word on Ari?"

"Thanks for asking, Car. I did get word on Friday. She was in a hospital in Houston. She was hit by an oak tree that fell on the house where she was staying. It killed the man she was with, and she is still in critical condition there. It's heart-breaking. I haven't talked to Opie about it yet because I'm hoping she will pull through. I've consulted the hospital there, but she has limited brain activity."

"Oh, my God, D. I'm so sorry. Oh, I don't even know what to say. That is just terrible. Well, I will reiterate: if there is anything I can do to help you or Opie, please let me know."

I am beside myself about the situation with Ari. My heart aches constantly, and a heavy anxiety has taken permanence on my shoulders. Sure, of course, primarily for my son, but also because I care about her as a person. Not to mention, we are really good co-parents.

It's a lot with my lifestyle to give him the parental parenting he needs to thrive. He needs his mom and the extra stability and time she provides for him. I need her to be a better father.

With everything going on with Elle, my mind and energies have been focused on her. I've checked in multiple times with Ari's team there, but she is not my patient, and I can only do so much from two thousand miles away. I can only hope against all hope that she can turn it around.

Through all of the trauma and medical emergencies in my personal life lately, there was a strange sense of relief when I learned of the accident. I was glad that I didn't have to tell my son that his mother left him. If he loses her, it will be the worst thing he will deal with, I'm sure. But at least he won't have to contend with the reality that his mother chose to leave.

In the cafeteria, I grab a sandwich and find a quiet corner. As I sit, Hunter Parish, my rebel friend who is a general surgeon, waves from across the room. I return the gesture, then turn my attention to finishing my sandwich. I'm sure he would like me to join him, but I have too much on my mind right now to stomach chitchat.

My mind inevitably drifts back to Elle. And our conversation. And the possibilities

We're separated by state lines and consumed by our professions. Plus, I can't forget about Opie. But I meant what I said to her. I am open to exploring long-distance relationships. Maybe that is what I need to ease myself into giving a committed relationship a try.

No other woman I've met since her has ever made me want to really try. And now I do want to. To try. With her. That has to mean something. There has to be more than just the prospect of losing her that made me come around to this thinking.

I chew my lunch mechanically, hardly noticing the flavor. Despite the uncertainties, I'm convinced of one thing—I'm not prepared to abandon hope for our connection at this point.

5:55 pm

I make my way back to Elle's room, my steps heavy after a long day of surgeries. I'm on call tonight but want to say goodbye before heading home to Opie. With Ari gone for over a week now—the longest they've been apart—I'm trying to maintain some semblance of routine for him.

As I approach Elle's room, my heart suddenly freezes. Through the doorway, I see a man sitting at her bedside, holding her hand. He is leaning in, his body language indicating intimacy between them. The sight hits me like a punch to the gut.

It dawns on me that in all my thoughts about making amends and exploring a future with Elle, I never considered she might already be in a relationship. She said all of those things to me earlier today, but she probably had more pharmaceuticals in her than a CVS pharmacy. She might not have even known what she was saying.

How could I have been so arrogant?

Devastation washes over me as I take in the scene before me. I've been a fool, letting my hopes run wild without considering the reality of her life in Florida. This man is clearly somebody special to her.

It has been ten years, after all. She is a beautiful, successful woman. Of course, a woman like Elle wouldn't still be single after all these years.

I backtrack quickly, praying no one in the room spotted me. The last thing I want is to create an awkward scene. As I retreat down the hallway, my mind races with questions and self-recrimination. How could I have misread the situation so badly?

7:29 pm

I finish reading the last page of Goodnight Moon to Opie, his eyelids heavy but fighting sleep. Closing the book, I lean down and softly kiss his forehead.

"Alright, buddy. Time to sleep tight," I whisper, tucking the covers around him.

Opie's little hand reaches out, grabbing my sleeve. "Daddy, when's Mommy coming home? I miss her."

My heart clenches. How do I explain this to a four-year-old when I don't even know what's happening myself? I force a smile, hoping it masks my worry.

"Well, cowboy," I say, adopting a playful tone, "Mommy's visiting some friends down in Texas right now. You know how those Texans are—always trying to keep folks longer with their barbecues and rodeos." I offer my best Texas rancher accent and tip my fake hat.

Opie giggles softly, but his eyes remain questioning.

I swallow hard. "I hope she'll be able to come home real soon, Bud. I miss her too."

My chest aches as I turn off the bedside lamp, leaving only the soft glow of his nightlight. I'm a neurosurgeon, for God's sake. I'm used to fixing impossible problems with people's brains, to having all the answers. But right now, I feel utterly helpless. All I can do is love my son and hold onto hope that somehow, someday, Ari pulls through this and wakes up with minimal or no brain damage.

I linger in the doorway, watching Opie's breathing slow as he drifts off to sleep. The weight of uncertainty settles heavily on me. I have to protect him from a reality I don't fully understand.

I stroll into the den, the day's weight pressing on my shoulders. Stepping out onto the back patio, I sink into the plush outdoor sofa. I'm immediately transported back to the last evening here with Elle.

Today has been... indescribable. A rollercoaster doesn't even begin to cover it. The high of Charlie's text, knowing Elle had woken up, that she was alive and conscious, flooded me with relief. But then, walking into her hospital room and seeing another man at her bedside, her hand in his... That moment erased all those good emotions and gutted me.

I lean back and let out a long breath, trying to release some of the tension knotted in my chest. My fingers trace the rim of my glass absentmindedly. In just a span of hours, I've felt elation, terror, hope, and now... a hollow sort of jealousy? It's too much. Too much for one day.

A cool breeze brushes against my skin, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden. I close my eyes for a moment, willing myself to find some semblance of peace amidst the chaos.

It's been a long day—filled to its edges with raw emotion—and I'm nearing my breaking point. With everything that's been happening: Ari's seeming disappearance and Opie's innocent questions about his mom, the grueling surgeries at work, and now Elle's critical condition... It's like I'm standing on a precipice, and it wouldn't take much to push me over.

I open my eyes to the night sky above me, searching for constellations I used to know by heart—a reminder of a time when things were simpler when my biggest worry was acing an exam or making it to class on time. But those days are long gone.

The patio is quiet around me. Even the crickets seem to sense my mood and keep their serenade subdued tonight. I sit alone with my thoughts. I feel so stupid for confessing all today to Elle without first asking her where she is at.

There's no escaping it now. These feelings aren't going anywhere. They're as real as the sturdy deck beneath my feet and as undeniable as the starlit sky above. The only control I have is to distance myself for self-preservation.