Chapter 22
Standing in a dark surgery theatre with Dr. Miller, two other fellows, and several surgical support staff, my eyes are razor focused on a bright screen and the control panel beside it.
Today we are working to correct a fatal abnormality called congenital diaphragmatic hernia with a procedure that is currently undergoing randomised trials.
CDH happens to about one in four thousand unborn babies.
It is when a hole develops in their diaphragm.
If left untreated, it can leave their lungs underdeveloped, making a healthy delivery impossible.
Dr. Miller’s voice is loud and clear as she speaks to the viewers in the gallery window above us.
“Today we are attempting to perform foetoscopic tracheal occlusion. This is the surgery that your donor funds will go toward this year as we continue to expand on this highly treatable condition.” She pauses to touch the mother’s shoulder who’s lying on her back wide awake as we wait for the epidural anaesthesia to take effect.
The mother looks at me with wide, glossy eyes, so I give her a nod of encouragement that she seems to appreciate.
Dr. Miller continues, “I will insert a miniature latex balloon through the uterine wall and down through the mouth of our tiny patient. Positioned in the windpipe, I will then inflate. The balloon will operate as a little cork until it needs to come out when our mother reaches full term pregnancy. This will help the baby’s lungs to develop and increase the survival rate by thirty-five percent. Any questions?”
I have a million but I’m biting my tongue, doing my best to take it all in.
“Then let’s begin.”
I can feel Dr. Miller’s eyes on me as I look back at the screen. “Dr. Ryan, I was very impressed with you last week when we worked on those TTTS twins.”
My mask covers my jaw dropping. “Thank you, Dr. Miller,” I stammer.
“I’d like you to feed in the foetoscope.” Her eyes narrow and look down at the side of the mother’s belly where the camera will be inserted into the uterus.
“Yes, Dr. Miller,” I reply, wishing I could thank her for the opportunity, but knowing confidence is all that I need to project when we have a conscious mother on the table.
My hands are rock steady as I move to take Dr. Miller’s place and begin a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
This is what I appreciate about this specialty.
I get to touch something that is untouchable.
I have the chance to save something that someone deemed unsavable.
It makes everything outside of this room disappear.
These moments of clarity I receive when I’m operating fill my veins with meaning and purpose. This is where I belong.
This is what real life is about. Nothing else will ever feel so big when I’m able to save something so small.
As I drive home after a long day in surgery, I feel desperate for a drink and to lie down. My mind is whirling with all that happened today, not only for the family that got a second chance with their baby, but with my career. It was an incredible day.
It’s not until I park in front of my flat that I finally pull out my mobile and see I have several texts. I slide out of my car and begin to open the first one when I hear someone clear their throat.
I practically jump out of my trainers when I see Tanner seated on the concrete steps leading up to my building.
“Tanner, you scared me half to death! What are you doing, perving in the dark like a creeper?”
“I’m not perving, I’m just…waiting,” he stammers, a sheepish look on his face as he stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been texting you.”
I sigh, taking in his tall, large frame, his stupid, messy man bun, and his nappy beard. It all makes me sad.
“I literally just looked at my mobile for the first time all day.”
“What about yesterday?” His brow is furrowed as he awaits my reply. He looks so much younger than twenty-six right now.
“I was busy prepping for the surgery I had today,” I lie.
“How’d it go?” He looks genuinely interested.
My smile is tired but undisputable. “Amazing. It was…amazing.” I drop down onto the place he vacated on the steps.
My legs feel as if they’re going to give out from all the standing I did in surgery today.
“I’ve turned a corner with Dr. Miller. She told me that if I keep it up, she’ll be offering me a full-time position next year. ”
“That’s incredible.” He huffs a laugh of admiration. “Seriously, I’m really happy for ya.”
“Thanks,” I reply, suddenly feeling very tired. “So what are your texts about? I haven’t read them yet.”
His happiness falls fractionally. “Our next date.”
A hopeful raise of his eyebrows has me nodding stiffly. “Ah yes, we need another public appearance I suppose. It’s been a few days. What will people think?” I bob my head, adding a touch of flare to the end but he doesn’t seem amused.
Tanner scratches the back of his neck. “There’s this thing going on at Welly’s Pub on Friday night with the Bethnal team.
They don’t have a game until Wednesday, so they want a team night out.
Bonding and all that. Indie will be there, too.
I haven’t seen any of them since the last game and I’d like it if you would go with me.
The guys have booked the place, so there won’t be any press inside. ”
This confuses me. “Well, what’s the point if we’re not being photographed?” I ask.
He shrugs and speaks slowly. “It’d just be for fun.”
I watch him for a moment, trying to get a read on him. Tanner Harris is standing before me, asking me to hang out and not making a sexual pass at me. This throws so many red flags.
“Did Indie say something to you?”
“No.” He looks guilty and I scoff with annoyance. “Maybe,” he adds.
I ruffle my messy ponytail. “Bloody Indie.”
“Don’t go skinning her,” he defends, making a move closer to me. So close I get a whiff of his scent and it brings back unwelcome memories.
“Well, I should,” I snipe. “That was private girl talk shit. Not something you needed to know.”
“If I hurt you, I should know. So I can apologise and grovel and…I don’t know…do whatever it is blokes do when they fuck up. I’m sorry, Belle. I just thought…I just thought—”
“You didn’t think at all!” I exclaim, standing up and losing control of my emotions.
I begin pacing the sidewalk, a renewed sense of energy coursing through my hot, angry veins.
“I had literally just opened up to you about how much my parents hurt me by not inviting me to stuff. Then you turned around and did it the very first chance you got.”
“Christ, Belle, I didn’t think of it like that.” He makes a move to touch me, so I spin away from him, holding my hands out to block him.
“Don’t, all right? I don’t want to go crazy over this, Tanner! I don’t want to lose my shit on you right now.”
“You should!” he exclaims, his eyes panicky. “Hit me with your full on crazy. I deserve it. I was a jerk. Talk to me about that.”
“No, I’m not going to do it. Because for one silly moment, I thought you were actually human. And I thought that we had become friends. I forgot that you’re being forced into all of this. How ridiculous of me!”
“We have become friends,” he booms, his jaw taut with anger. “Fuck me, Belle, I care about you!”
“Then you have to know that how you handled the end of our weekend in Manchester is not the way you treat a friend! You’re not that stupid. You might look it, but I know better.”
“It’s more complicated than that, Ryan,” he growls and kicks at the pavement with his foot.
“See? Why’d you call me Ryan there?” I challenge him with a sadistic little smile because I already know the answer.
“What do you mean?” He rolls his eyes. “I call you Ryan all the time.”
“Not all the time. Only when you’re trying to distance yourself.”
“Don’t be mental. I don’t need to be psychoanalysed right now,” he snaps.
I have to laugh. It’s all I can do at this point. “I haven’t even got started with all the other shit I could mention. I could Deep Talk you so hard right now, you wouldn’t know what hit you.”
“Just save it, all right?” he shouts, vibrating with rage. “You don’t want to come on Friday? Don’t. You don’t want to be in this with me anymore? Then don’t. I’m not going to sit here and let you make me feel like an arse for sticking to an agreement that you signed up for.”
“Did the agreement include you fucking me bareback in your brother’s pool?” I scream and his face contorts with something along the lines of horrified realisation. My eyes turn to slits. “Didn’t think so.”
I could push him so hard right now. I could send him right over the edge and tell him everything he’s not saying. But what’s the point? None of this is real. And he’s not evolved enough to even admit the truth to himself, let alone to me. Deep Talk is a joke.
“Just go home, Tanner,” I add with a huff and turn to make my way up the steps.
“Belle,” he croaks and rushes up behind me, folding his arms around my waist.
I fight his hold for a while, trying to push him off of me. I pinch his arms like a child and he growls in pain but refuses to let go, only squeezing me tighter.
I stop for a moment, shivering against his warm breath on my shoulder.
All I would have to do is turn my head into him and I know what would happen.
He would kiss me. He would consume me. He’d make me forget.
We’d trip over each other as we walk backwards into my flat, never releasing the others lips.
We’d go to bed. We’d fuck or maybe even make love.
He’d bring me so much pleasure that I’d forget everything that hurts me about him.
Instead, I drop my arms to my sides, willing them to stop fighting…
Turning them into lifeless noodles, no longer resisting him but not embracing him either.
I want to cry from the ache of no action.
It feels so bloody wrong. Fighting Tanner is more my style, but everything is different now.
Acknowledging that is what gives me the strength to say no when he asks the next question.
“Can I come up?”
My eyes sting as I reply, “No, Tanner. You can’t.”
With a huff, he releases me.
I don’t look back as I walk into my flat, close the door behind me, and lean my back against the wall to catch my breath. A masochist through and through, I pull out my mobile and read a text he sent me earlier.
Tanner: I miss you.