36. Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Walker
“ I still can’t believe you skipped the rotationplasty,” Beau says for the tenth time today, twisting his oversized body toward me in the ortho lounge.
I shoot him a glare, beginning to regret my decision to study here. Board exams are less than a month away at the end of June. And while I feel prepared, I also don’t need to be interrupted every five minutes by the boasting of an intern, no matter how much I happen to like him.
He doesn’t catch on, continuing his soliloquy. “I mean, I appreciate you giving me the call-up to the big leagues. But damn. It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. You missed out.”
“There will always be more surgeries,” I comment, providing the same response that I’ve given to all of my other coworkers who said the same thing.
“Not like this one,” he retorts, drumming his fingers excitedly on his knee. “You essentially said no to going to the moon. Or Mount Everest. Or the Titanic.”
“These days I don’t think anyone wants to go to the Titanic.”
I sigh and close my book because he clearly has no plans of letting this go. We haven’t seen each other in weeks because he’s been on his surgical ICU rotation and busy as fuck. I can tell he’s been busting at the seams to give me the play-by-play of the case.
Beau laughs and reaches for his protein shake. “True. But you get the point.”
“I don’t actually.”
If he’s trying to equate the surgery I turned down, to a once-in-a-lifetime experience, he’s not going to convince me, no matter what he says. He could tell me that the patient magically grew their legs back, and I still wouldn’t care. The only thing that’s once in a lifetime is being married to Morgan.
“Just that it must have been a hard decision.”
“Truthfully, it was the easiest decision I’ve ever made.” I turn in my chair to face him. “And one day it will be for you too.”
Beau takes a sip, letting out a dismissive sound after he swallows. “Nah, I’d give my left nut to be able to do that again.”
I understand where he’s coming from because for so long, surgery was the most important thing in my life. If there was another case, I would take it. If there was another patient, I would see them. The entire length of my residency, there wasn’t a single thing I would say no to because I thought giving in would make me weak or less of a surgeon.
But the reality of the situation is that the hospital will give you lots of things, but it will take even more. It will provide you with education, growth, and a career to be proud of. But it will also demand that you trade those things for your time, your money, your friendships, and your family—until you’re left with no life outside of the thing that didn’t actually give you that much at all. Because at the end of the day, your career isn’t going to be there for you when you’re celebrating at the peaks of the mountains, and it’s definitely not going to be there for you when you’re in the depths of the valleys—people will be.
“Let’s say you had important plans with Claire that day,” I say, trying to impart some wisdom on my friend so that he can learn from my mistakes. “Would you have taken the case then?”
“Obviously,” he scoffs, not hesitating for a second. “She would understand.”
“What if she didn’t?”
Beau knits his furry brows as he considers my question.
“I’d make it up to her later,” he finally replies with a lewd wink.
His answer doesn’t surprise me—we see it all of the time with physicians, particularly residents. Surgery is this bright, shiny, Disneyland full of possibilities. We all succumb to its allure at first, drawn in by our egos and drive to succeed. But the number of us who end up bitter and alone is astounding, and the last thing that I want is for Beau to fall into the same trap I did.
“You love Claire, and you’re planning to marry her one day,” I state, knowing the answer but trying to provide context for the point I want to make.
He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as a bashful splash of color forms on his tan cheeks. “Yeah, assuming Parker doesn’t kill me before I can make it happen.”
“Then you need to understand something,” I say solemnly. “Marriage is a constant race to the back of the line.”
He looks at me like I’m speaking a different language.
“Inherently, humans are selfish. We put our needs and our desires first, always striving for more, even after we achieve our goals. But what you have to understand, is that in a marriage you can’t do that. Well . . . you can, but it won’t end well.”
I suck in a heavy breath, letting it out slowly.
“Your spouse should automatically become the most important thing in your life—more important than any surgery, case, or career achievement. They’re not going to ask you to choose, and you’re not always going to have a choice. But when you do, choose them.”
“Look at you, Walker-boo-boo,” Beau coos, goofily grinning at me. “You’ve turned into a big-ass mush. Morgan did this to you, didn’t she?”
I fight a smile but eventually give in to his charm and try one on. “She did.”
When the reality of what happened in Vegas set in, I made a vow to myself that I would do everything I could to be a better husband than I was the first time around. The most important way that I could think of to do that was to put my wife first. And while a career in medicine is inherently going to require personal sacrifice, you can set boundaries and still reach the peak.
I knew Morgan wouldn’t ask me to skip the case, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to miss our plans. I was going to honor my commitment to her, regardless of the professional repercussions. And I’m so glad that I did because it was worth every ounce of the sacrifice.
“Well, speaking of marriage,” Beau says casually. “You ready for Parker’s wedding this weekend? I bought cigars for the rooftop reception—we’re gonna look bougie as fuck.”
“Actually, I need to talk to you about that . . .”
***
I sling my backpack over my shoulder, leaving Beau to sulk in the lounge because he’s on call tonight. As I’m starting down the hallway, I spot a familiar face headed in the opposite direction.
“Wes,” I call out, grabbing his attention.
Weston stops, his look of surprise quickly shifting to a fake half-smile. “Hey, bud. Long time, no see. How’s ortho?”
The last time I ran into him, I got the sense that something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Today, it’s even more evident—he looks defeated.
“People break bones, we fix them,” I say with a chuckle, trying to lighten his mood. “You’re full time now, I hear?”
“Yeah, I initially had to take care of a few things, but officially transitioned to full time last month,” he answers with a shrug, his tone flat.
I don’t press him on the details because he clearly isn’t interested in sharing. But I also understand the importance of having people in your corner, and right now he looks like he needs a friend.
“Hey, want to grab a drink sometime?”
Truthfully, I don’t have a ton of time given everything on my plate at the moment, but for some reason, I’m worried about him.
Weston used to be this larger-than-life guy who everyone in the department wanted to be around. He didn’t take anything too seriously and in a specialty of people who are nothing but serious, he was a breath of fresh air. But now he looks just like the rest of us—dejected, jaded, and exhausted.
His hazel eyes flicker with interest. “Tonight? I’ve, uh, got something I need to take care of but I could probably meet you around nine? ”
“Tonight works,” I reply, surprised that he took me up on the offer since we’ve never been close. “Let me just send a quick text to Morgan to let her know the plan.”
He nods and leans against the wall as I start to type. “I heard about what happened in Vegas.”
I pause, looking up at him curiously. “Did you?”
I haven’t told anyone at work about our marriage, and there’s no way in hell that Beau or Parker said anything. Which only leaves one person . . .
“Morgan gave me a brief rundown the other day,” he confirms. “I walked into her patient’s room for an emergent appy consult while Parker’s sister was teasing her about her new wedding band.”
I smile as I picture her wearing the ring I bought her a few weeks ago. It isn’t much—just a silicone band that she can wear at the hospital and not feel guilty if she loses it.
“It’s been a wild few months.”
“I can only imagine,” he says with an amused exhale, his expression slightly less grim than it was a few minutes ago. “Well, you’ve got a good one.”
I certainly do.