It was her, and always had been.
I left, walking slow, a dumb smile on my face. My problems weren’t solved, but what I wanted seemed that much clearer now.
23
Lori
Several weeks passed after that conversation in the lounge.
We didn’t talk about it again. We fell back into the routine: training, surgeries, discussing patients, working. We didn’t sleep together again, and he didn’t try to push for that.
We barely even kissed.
But the changes were enormous. Small things, at first: he smiled more, he laughed more, and he even tried to tell a few jokes. They weren’t great, but he tried.
Then bigger things: he let me take more responsibility, let me talk with the patients during consults, and let me take on more and more complicated surgeries.
He talked to the nurses and learned their names. He made small talk when he could, and went out of his way to be kind and helpful. Folks began to notice: the nurses seemed happy when he came around, and even the other residents lost some of their fear of him, and started asking him for advice.
I could tell he hated it. Every day, he wished he could go back to being a quiet, angry, laser-focused surgeon, but he was playing the game now. Gina noticed, she had to have noticed, there was no way to avoid noticing the new and improved Dr. Hood.
Part of me wished he wouldn’t change. I liked that pissed-off, arrogant bastard that I first met, but I had to admit that the new version was nice to be around. He complimented me more, and went out of his way to explain things that didn’t necessarily need an explanation, but he wanted to make sure I was learning absolutely everything possible.
I came into the hospital early that morning, intent on surprising him with coffee. He still showed up first, before anyone else did, and he liked to have some time to himself in his office. I got his favorite coffee from the fancy place near my apartment, and headed up to his floor, thinking I’d drop it off then kill some time in the lounge before he was ready to start going over the day’s schedule.
Instead, I reached his hall, and slowed to a stop.
Gina and Caroline stood outside of his door. Piers stood across from them, and though I could only see his back, I knew something was going wrong. I didn’t know what to do, and part of me wanted to run away—but instead, I walked forward, coffees gripped in my hands.
“—been an error somewhere,” Piers said, hands spread. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s in your handwriting,” Gina said. “In your files. If there was an error, it was your own.”
“You know how this goes,” Caroline said. “The hospital is liable, and we can’t risk anything.”
“What’s going on?” I said, announcing myself.
Both women looked at me. Gina made a face I couldn’t read, but Caroline forced a smile on her lips.
Piers turned to me, and I saw the rage in his eyes. I held up the coffee, and he took one, muttering a thanks.
“Hello, Dr. Court,” Caroline said. “We were just having a discussion with Dr. Hood. Maybe you could come back a little later.”
“Let her stay,” Piers said. “She’ll hear it soon enough.”
“You don’t need to go through this,” Gina said. “I understand it’s hard—”
“They’re suspending me,” Piers said, looking at me. “And they have the most trumped-up bullshit reason in the world.”
I felt my blood turn to ice. I stared at Gina, then at Caroline, confused. “What happened?” I asked. “We’ve been doing so good. The patients are happy, outcomes are great, things are going well.”
“We found evidence in Piers’s files,” Gina said, glancing at Caroline. “Really, Dr. Court, this isn’t any of your concern.”
“Bullshit,” Piers said. “They found bullshit. Some note I wrote about Nil, apparently calling him, what did you say, Caroline? A senile old bastard?”
“Senile old fool,” Caroline corrected. “This is inappropriate, Dr. Hood. Please, Dr. Court, you can go.”
“I didn’t write any such note,” Piers said, his anger getting the better of him. “Go through all my files. Look at all my damn patients. Do I ever write something like that about any of them?”
“There are irregularities,” Gina said.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Piers asked, incredulous. “What else did you make up?”
“I should go,” I said, turning.
“Stay,” he said. “I want you to hear this.”
“I know this is hard,” Caroline said, trying to keep her voice level, “but it’s for the best right now. The hospital is liable—”
“You keep saying that.” Piers sipped his coffee and stared hate at her. “But I don’t give a shit about the hospital. This isn’t about that at all, this is about your vendetta against me, and your obsession with the Tippett family.”
Caroline laughed once. “My obsession? You’re the one that performed a risky procedure that you never should’ve performed.”