“You noticed all of this in the two days we’ve been here?”
She smiles. “Nothing to do here but to observe, Doc.”
I don’t look away. For some reason, I want to keep talking.
So, I do.
“When you lose someone, people try to comfort you. With words. With apologies. With touch. When Christy died, it seemed everybody wanted to put their hands on me to soothe me. But when you’re so full of guilt and self-loathing, that touch only serves to make you feel more guilty. It got so bad that every time someone touched me, it burned.”
Her features soften with empathy as she understands how deep my guilt runs through me. But she doesn’t say anything and lets me talk.
“I fell into drinking and drugs. It got so bad, I lost four years of my life to it before I woke up and figured I either got busy living or busy dying. For Christy’s sake, I decided to live the life she would’ve lived if she’d survived that night.”
“You became a doctor because she wanted to be a doctor?”
“Would be poetic, huh? But no, I chose a career in medicine, so I never had to wonder how to save someone’s life ever again.” Eighteen years later, I can still feel my helplessness as I kneeled beside Christy and tried to stem the flow of blood from her wounds. “Life would’ve been a lot different if I had known how to save her.”
“But even if you had known, she still might have—”
“No, the doctor was very adamant. She would’ve survived had she received the help she needed in time.”
“You can‘t blame yourself for that.”
“I’ve done a pretty good job so far.” I give her a self-deprecating smile, and it’s met with the warmth of hers, and something inside me tightens. A weight is lifting, making room for something else, but I don’t understand what. How I’m feeling is alien and strange. All I know is I like it.
“Sounds like a hell of a ride, Doc. I’m so sorry.” Her voice is soft and gentle. “You were so young.”
“Besides losing my career, it was the most life-altering moment of my life."
She’s quiet for a moment and then lifts her head. “I overheard Max telling Sunshine you lost your medical license.”
I nod. “Voluntary deactivation, they called it.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“You really want to hear about my fall from grace?”
She nods and I smile at her because she makes the strangeness of the night seem normal and easy like we’re old friends sharing stories over coffee. In another life, she would’ve been my friend. In this one, the lines are so blurred, I don’t know up or down anymore, so I roll with it.
“Her name was Carrie, and she was my patient. Twenty-one years old and on the brink of an amazing life when she was diagnosed with cancer. It turned out to be terminal.” I look down at my coffee and rub my thumb over the rim of the cup.
“I was twenty-seven and already showing signs of burning out from the long hours spent doing rounds. I was becoming jaded and cynical from fighting the politics and bureaucratic policies. Then she burst into my life, and despite the shitty situation she found herself in, she was always so vibrant and carefree and so full of hope. She’d walk in and bring the sunshine with her. Her visits became more frequent, and it wasn’t long before I was visiting her after hours at her home. She was crazy in love with me, and I knew it was wrong. I told myself I was in love with her too, so it didn’t matter. Fuck the rules, and all that.”
I shake my head, remembering it all like it was yesterday.
I wanted to love her, but the truth is, I didn’t. I cared for her, enough to destroy my career.
“There was an experimental drug that was having some significant results on patients with the same diagnosis, but she didn’t qualify for it. We applied for grants and exhausted every possible avenue we could to get the drug for her but were met with denials at every turn. So, I grew desperate because I didn’t want her to die. I couldn’t bear the thought of it. So, when the opportunity arose, I stole it.”
I watch Lily swallow. I see the empathy enter her eyes and her face soften as she nods her head.
“Needless to say, I got caught… and eventually Carrie passed away.”
“Oh, Doc… I’m so sorry.”
“Charges were filed, and my lawyer recommended I permanently surrender what I had dedicated years of my life working toward to escape prison time.” I blow out an emotional breath, not caring that she can see how the memory affects me because being around her and talking like this is easy. “But by then, I was already crumbling under the weight of fatigue and grief because for the second time in my life, I wasn’t able to save a woman I cared about, so… I agreed.”