Chapter 13 #3
“Just aimless window shopping, babe,” she told him around a bite of soggy rice they’d advertised as chicken curry with fresh greens.
They were about as fresh as I felt six hours into my twenty-four-hour shift, breath whistling in my chest, head a little dizzy.
The cafeteria’s noise grated—sharp and unfiltered, clattering trays and overlapping conversations, my stomach churning at the smell of someone’s fish fingers one table over.
“Huh,” Khai said, sounding a hint curious but mostly still sleepy.
“What?” Tessa asked.
“Finn’s supervising fellow is sitting with Dr. Hollis.”
I glanced over, just quickly, and found Tay mid-laugh with a guy in his early or maybe mid-thirties, attractive, with sharp cheekbones. “That’s Dr. Hollis?” I asked. “He’s the scary CT attending, right?”
“Not scary, no. Just… intense. Like, I’m not sure he understands the concept of imperfection. That’s for mere mortals, y’know?” Khai snorted. “Nearly fell out of my chair yesterday when he addressed me by name. Didn’t think he even knew.”
“Sounds like the polar opposite of your Tay,” Tessa told me.
I shook my head with an amused huff, brain sloshing slightly against my skull. “Nothing ‘my’ about him.”
“Uh, yeah. Better not.” Khai’s eyebrows rose, mouth curling up at the corners. “Don’t see you fighting Dr. Hollis and winning.”
“Fighting Dr. Hollis?” I checked on Tay again, and—oh. He and Dr. Hollis had linked hands across the table. Nothing flashy about it, just easy, simple intimacy that didn’t need to hide.
“Cute,” Tessa said as if it wasn’t something that made my world tilt just a little.
This was… Tay was dating an attending? A first-year fellow dating an attending.
Different specialties, though. Both already much more senior than I was, far more progressed in their careers, reputations firmly built. So…
Allowed.
I swallowed against the raw ache in my throat.
“Guess opposites really do attract,” Khai commented.
I tried for a smile to mask the tightness in my chest and lungs, nodding at him and Tessa. “Case in point.”
“I’ve no idea what you mean.” She tipped up her chin and affected a haughty expression. “Just like Khai, I am the very epitome of subtle restraint.”
“You’re as subtle as a heart attack,” Khai told her, his smile so fond it bordered on nauseating. Or maybe that was just my general state today. I laughed anyway, too raspy, and Tessa must have noticed because she turned a frown on me.
“Are you okay? You sound sick.”
“Just a minor cold,” I told her. “I’m fine, really.”
I was still telling myself that when Tay found me later for his routine check-in. “Feel better today?” he asked, grin even wider than usual. No need to put a damper on his cheer.
“Loads,” I lied, stifling the beginnings of a cough.
“Brilliant.” He looked genuinely pleased. “So. Interesting thing of the day?”
It was none of my business. But… “That you’re dating an attending?” I offered, not sure why I’d turned it into a question.
“Yeah.” His expression sharpened just enough that I noticed. “Not a problem, is it?”
“What? No.” Jesus, did he think I had a problem with… what? The hierarchy part? The gay thing? I guess I hadn’t exactly told him which way I swung. “I’m gay myself, if that’s what you meant. And it’s more… I’m curious. Like, did you meet during your residency rotation?”
Oh, look, here’s a mouth. Let’s put a foot in it!
Tay weighed me for a second, then seemed to decide I hadn’t intended to imply he’d fucked his supervisor. Well, one of us had. “Thought you might be,” he said, relaxing a little. “But my gaydar is hit or miss.”
“No, yeah. Definitely a hit, in this case.” Awkward, Jesus. If I kept it up, he’d start wondering if I had a crush on him.
“Nice to get it right for once.” He leaned his shoulder against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles.
“And yeah, we did—Dean and I. Spring last year. He wasn’t my primary attending or anything, so limited interactions, you know?
I just followed him on a few rounds, thought he was intimidating and kinda hot.
Didn’t talk to him again until a mutual friend brought us back together. ”
“And then he suddenly wasn’t so intimidating?” I asked.
“Oh, he was.” Tay smiled at some kind of private joke. “But also much… kinder.” A small laugh. “Which, you know. He’d totally object to being called that.”
The affection in his voice was thick, obvious, and I was happy for him, really—he deserved good things. It just… God. It sucked how Tay had made it a point to casually mention that Dr. Hollis hadn’t been his supervisor, how it drove home that yes, it mattered.
“You sound happy.” I smiled against the swish of dizziness. “It’s, you know. It’s nice. Feels rare to see people making it work with… well, work. Like, our work. Shifts and all. Long hours.”
“Yeah.” Something thoughtful crossed Tay’s face, watching me for a beat too long. Then he smiled back. “Takes planning and organization. Understanding that sometimes, even just a quick chat before one’s off for a shift and the other falls into bed—it’s worth it.”
“Might be easier if it’s someone who’s, you know—also a doctor.” I needed to stop talking. Like, yesterday. Before I gave away something I couldn’t take back. “Anyway, what’s your interesting thing?”
Tay considered it for a moment. “Must be that HR reminder about hospital dating policies that went to everyone just half an hour ago. Hard not to take it personally.”
“There was?” I asked.
“Yeah.” His lips twitched up at the corners. “Check your emails. No naming names, just something generic about power dynamics and mandatory conflict of interest disclosure.”
The words swam a little in my brain, foggy around the edges. Conflict of interest. Power dynamics. “Right.”
“You okay?” Tay asked, and honestly, I was getting a little tired of that question. Even if they all meant well—I could handle myself. I wasn’t going to be the intern who needed a nap and a juice box to last through the day.
“I’m fine,” I said, perhaps a shade harsher than I’d meant to, headache throbbing like the steady beat of a drum.
Another one of those searching looks, then he nodded. “All right. Then just… keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Paperwork?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said brightly. “That.”
“You’re secretly smug that you can delegate some of it to me, right?”
“We’ve all paid our dues.” He rapped his knuckles against the wall before he pushed off, then stopped to meet my eyes. “It’s been a good start, right? You’d tell me if something wasn’t working for you?”
I’d heard rumors before coming here—about a cutthroat environment and sink-or-swim expectations. Maybe it was pediatric surgery or maybe I’d been lucky, but it sure wasn’t my experience.
“It’s been a great start,” I told him. “Seriously.”
“Good.” He grinned, repeated it. “Good. See you on Monday, Finn.”
“See you, Tay,” I echoed.
As soon as he was gone, I sat down, hard. Reality felt a little hazy, tilting like the slow spin of a globe. Deep breath, the taste of metal sharp on my tongue.
Okay. Back at it.