8. You will apologise to Dr. Ayra.
The elevator doors slid open, and I froze before I could even step inside.
Daxton.
He was already there, standing near the back wall, arms crossed, his usual controlled posture giving off that calm, effortless authority that made my pulse race. His dark eyes lifted, landing on me, and something in his expression shifted. Became more relaxed.
I could still not move.
"Good morning, Ayra," He spoke smoothly. "Are you going to come inside?"
My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I finally made a move to step inside. "G-good morning."
My hands tightened on the strap of my bag, fingers curling nervously.
The doors closed, sealing us in a space far too small for the electricity humming between us.
"Is pink your favourite colour?" He asked, his eyes drinking me in intently.
I gulped, cheeks burning, and glanced down at my pink clothes. "Yes. How'd you figure?"
The corner of his lip lifted up into a small smile. "You wear it a lot."
I blushed, looking down at my shoes. "You're very observant."
"I am." He agreed.
"I... I wanted to talk to you." I said nervously, turning fully towards him as my heart thudded loudly in my chest.
"Really? I'm honoured." He smiled warmly, looking at me expectantly.
I licked my lips, fiddling with my hands. "Thank you for breakfast yesterday."
His eyes lit up like I'd mentioned his most favourite thing in the world. "Did you like it?"
My lips stretched up into a genuine smile. "I loved it. It was very thoughtful. Especially the fact that you remembered something I had so randomly said."
He smiled, just as the elevator doors dinged open. "After you."
I smiled gratefully, stepping out first.
His assistant walked up to him the moment we got out. "Mr. Anderson, you're up for that interview before today's conference."
He nodded. "Give me a minute."
Then he turned towards me. "Would you like to join?"
"Huh?" I blinked.
"The interview."
My eyes widened. "What? No. It's your interview."
"You could provide valuable insight on the healthcare part." He suggested.
I blinked rapidly. "No, I'm sorry. I—I—"
"It's alright. No pressure. Maybe some other time, when you're ready." He interjected gently.
I gave him a small, grateful smile. "Good luck with the interview... Daxton."
He nodded. "Thank you, Ayra. I'll see you in there."
The conference hall was fuller than it had been all week.
I took a steadying breath as I stepped up to the podium, palms damp despite my efforts to stay calm. Rows of faces looked back at me—executives, businessmen, developers, senior consultants, physicians. People with decades of experience.
I adjusted the mic. "Good morning. I'm Dr. Ayra Laurent.
First year resident OBGYN at St. Celeste hospital.
I've been given the privilege of sharing insight into my specialty, today, and how technology can help improve the lives of people that I serve.
.. A typical day in obstetrics and gynecology doesn't begin with a schedule. It begins with uncertainty,"
A few heads tilted, interest piqued.
The person who watched me with the most attention was Daxton.
"In one shift, I might move from antenatal clinics to the labor ward, from monitoring fetal heart tracings to managing postpartum hemorrhage. There's no linear flow, only constant triage."
The screen behind me lit up with diagrams I'd prepared.
"In outpatient clinics, we review ultrasound findings, manage gestational diabetes, hypertensive disorders of pregnancy, anemia. Each patient brings a different risk profile. Each requires individualized care."
I couldn't help but lock eyes with Daxton for a few seconds, who was watching me very intently.
"In labor and delivery," I continued, grounding myself in familiarity, "we monitor cardiotocography, assess cervical dilation, decide when intervention is necessary.
A few minutes can be the difference between a safe vaginal delivery and an emergency cesarean section.
Technology can help us anticipate those moments," I said.
"AI-assisted CTG interpretation could flag fetal distress earlier.
Integrated electronic medical records could reduce medication errors.
Predictive analytics could identify high-risk pregnancies before complications arise. " I paused, letting that settle.
"But," I added carefully, "technology must adapt to medicine, not replace it. No algorithm understands a patient's fear. No system replaces clinical judgment at three a.m. when a woman is bleeding and time is limited."
A murmur rippled through the audience.
"This partnership," I finished, "has the potential to support clinicians, not overwhelm them.
To give us clarity where there is chaos.
And most importantly, to improve maternal and neonatal outcomes.
Which is why, I would like to thank Mr. Daxton Anderson for taking this wonderful initiative, and for doing a thorough analysis to ensure that masses truly benefit from this. Thank you."
I stepped back. Applause followed. I watched Daxton clap for me, his lips curled up in a smile, eyes gleaming.
I returned to my seat, heart pounding, fingers trembling slightly.
When the session wrapped up, Daxton stood.
The room quieted immediately.
"I won't take long," he said, voice steady and commanding. "But I want to close by saying something important."
His gaze swept the room, then settled on me.
"Today's discussion shifted the direction of this project," he continued. "Not because of innovation, but because of insight."
"Dr. Ayra Laurent reminded us that behind every dataset is a patient. Behind every metric is a moment that matters."
I felt my breath catch and my cheeks heat up.
"She articulated what technology often forgets, that medicine is not linear. It's human. And if we want this partnership to succeed, it must respect that reality."
The room was utterly still.
"Her perspective," he said, without hesitation, "will be central as we move forward. I'd like to personally thank Dr. Laurent for setting the standard."
Applause erupted again, louder this time.
I sat frozen, pulse roaring in my ears, as people turned to look at me with renewed interest and respect.
And across the hall, Daxton met my eyes.
There was no smile. No playfulness.
Only quiet pride.
———
I had stepped away from the main lobby to take a breath.
The applause from earlier still rang faintly in my ears, my nerves wound tight from the attention I wasn't used to receiving. I stood near a tall window, clutching my folder, pretending to review notes while my heart slowly settled.
"Dr. Ayra."
I turned. The man standing before me wore an expensive suit and an expression that made my shoulders tense instantly. Mid-forties, sharp features, eyes that skimmed over me with thinly veiled disdain.
"Yes?" I replied politely.
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I wanted to say... your presentation was impressive. For a resident."
There it was.
I forced a small smile. "Thank you."
He scoffed lightly. "Still, let's be realistic. You're basically a little girl who's barely just stepped out of med school, right?"
I was taken aback by his comment. "Pardon me? Little girl?"
He snorted. "I'm not wrong, am I?"
"Sir, I believe that's an inappropriate way of addressing a professional. I may be young, but I'm a doctor and worthy of respect." I spoke with a frown.
He rolled his eyes. "It would've been wise to let senior consultants handle strategic input. This project is far too significant to hinge on... training doctors."
Heat flared in my chest. "I was asked to contribute," I said carefully. "And I spoke from clinical experience."
"Clinical experience?" He echoed, amused. "Observing, perhaps. Not leading. Let's not pretend a resident understands large-scale decision-making."
My throat tightened. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. The imbalance of power pressed down on me, heavy and familiar.
"That's enough."
The voice was calm, but cold. Stone cold.
I turned to find Daxton behind me, his expression cold, and a frown etched over his face.
The man stiffened slightly but recovered quickly, offering a tight smile. "Mr. Anderson. I was just having a conversation with—"
"A resident," Daxton cut in smoothly, stepping forward. "A doctor. One whose insight you seem to have underestimated."
His gaze shifted to me for a second, as if he wanted to reassure me.
"You do realize," Daxton continued evenly, "that Dr. Ayra's recommendations directly influenced the direction of this partnership."
The man laughed awkwardly. "Come on. She's still in training."
Daxton took another step forward. The space between them shrank.
"Let me be very clear," he said quietly. "Her level of training does not diminish her expertise. It enhances it. She's on the front lines. She understands the workflow, the limitations, the consequences, things executives like us only discuss in theory."
The man's smile faded.
"And," Daxton added, voice dropping just enough to make my pulse spike, "she speaks with my full confidence."
The man scoffed. "With all due respect, I don't see why—"
"Then you're not seeing at all."
Silence. He stood dumbfounded.
Daxton's gaze was unyielding now. Dangerous in its calm. "You will apologize to Dr. Ayra." He commanded.
I blinked, completely astonished at what was happening.
The man bristled. "I don't think I owe—"
Daxton stepped closer.
"So here's how this goes," he said quietly. "You apologize. Now. Or I ensure your company is excluded from every phase of this collaboration, in addition to any business affairs in the future."
My jaw dropped.
The man paled. "You wouldn't—"
"I already have the authority," Daxton replied. "This would simply be me exercising it."
More silence.
The man's jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to me, then back to Daxton.
"I'm waiting." Daxton said coldly.
The man exhaled sharply, clearly furious.
"I apologize," he muttered, turning toward me. "Dr. Ayra. My comment was... inappropriate."
"I didn't hear you," Daxton deadpanned. "Try again."
He clenched and unclenched his jaw. "I'm sorry, Dr. Ayra."
I only nodded.
Daxton didn't move until the man walked away, shoulders stiff, retreating without another word.
Only then did Daxton turn to me.
"Are you alright?" He asked, eyes scanning my face.
I nodded, though my hands still trembled. "I—yes. Thank you."
"You don't ever need to justify your place in a room," he said firmly. "Especially not to someone like that."
My throat tightened. "I didn't want to cause trouble."
He softened slightly. "You didn't. He did."
We stood there, the moment heavy but steady.
"You were exceptional today," he added. "Don't let anyone make you forget that."
I met his gaze, my heart racing for an entirely different reason now.
"Thank you." I whispered.
His lips stretched up into a smile. "You're always welcome. Can I walk you to your room?"
I nodded, cheeks pink as I walked with him to the elevator.