33. Missed an Opportunity
The OT lights were blinding.
The beeping monitor echoed through the sterile silence, louder than it should. Every sound—metal against tray, suction, heartbeat—felt amplified.
Eva stood still beside the table, trying to focus on the patient in front of her, not the man across it.
Not the man whose lips had stolen her calm last night.
Neil walked in, already gloved and gowned, his usual sharp composure intact. If last night’s moment had meant anything to him, it didn’t show. His tone was crisp, detached—cold even.
“Dr. Walter, you’re leading this case.”
Eva froze mid-step.
“S–sir?”
His eyes met hers over the mask. Calm. Controlled.
“You heard me. Heart valve replacement. You’ll lead; I’ll assist.”
Her pulse skipped. The nurses exchanged surprised glances—everyone knew Dr. Morris didn’t let anyone lead, not in his theatre.
She took a breath, forcing the tremor from her fingers.
“Yes, sir.”
Neil’s gaze lingered on her hands as she reached for the scalpel.
“Let’s hope you’re more confident with your incision than your words,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
A sting. A reminder.
Of last night. Of his “intentional” kiss.
She ignored the burn in her cheeks and made the first cut.
“Incision along the sternum,” she said, steady now.
Neil’s voice guided her through every layer—low, calm, dangerously close. Each time he leaned in to correct her hold or steady her movement, the air tightened. She could feel the warmth of him even through sterile fabric.
“Don’t rush, Eva,” he said quietly near her ear. “Control… not speed.”
Her hand almost faltered at the sound of her name from his lips.
She forced her focus on the valve, her gloves slick with sweat.
When the moment came to replace the valve, he stepped closer, his breath just behind her ear.
“Now. Gently. Don’t over-hold. Let the tension work with you.”
The irony wasn’t lost on her—tension was all they had right now.
Two hours passed him guiding her. Eva fighting for her spirit, didn't even dared to blink. All the eyes on she moved very prisicely making every move as if she is already a pro.
Seconds stretched into eternity until the new valve settled perfectly.
The monitor’s beep steadied.
“Valve functioning normal,” the perfusionist confirmed.
The relief that flooded her was immediate and deep.
She looked up—he was already watching her. His eyes, dark and unreadable, softened for just a fraction of a second.
“Seems you can handle pressure… in and out of the theatre.”he said pulling off his gloves.
Her lips parted, words dying in her throat.
What exactly did he mean by that?
The surgery was over — her first lead under Dr. Morris — and it had gone flawlessly. Her hands still tingled with the thrill of it.
As she walked toward her cabin, she noticed something on her desk — a neatly wrapped sandwich and a yellow sticky note stuck to the side of her file.
“Good job, Walter!”
Her lips parted in surprise. She didn’t need a signature to know whose handwriting that was.
Neil’s.
A faint, involuntary smile tugged at her lips — small, but real.
It was the first time he’d ever acknowledged her work with something that wasn’t just cold praise or a scolding command.
But just as she was about to sit, two residents passed by, peeking in through the half-open door.
“Ohhh, someone’s getting personal notes from the boss now.”
“A sandwich too? Wow, Dr. Morris really knows how to reward his favorite.”
“He’s never done that for anyone. I mean—does she even realize what people will think?”
Their words turned sharper with jealousy.
“No wonder she’s getting more OTs than us.”
“Yeah, maybe she’s… giving something in return.”
Eva froze.
Her fingers clenched around the note until the paper crumpled softly.
Her throat felt dry, but she forced a steady breath. Don’t react, Eva. Don’t give them more reason.
She waited for them to leave before setting the sandwich aside carefully, her appetite gone. The once-sweet gesture now burned like salt in a wound.
She stepped out, heading down the corridor — determined to keep her head high. But the whispers didn’t stop; they followed like shadows.
“Dr. Morris isn’t the cold machine anymore, huh?”
“Guess everyone melts for someone.”
Each word pricked deeper until she reached the corner and leaned briefly against the wall, eyes stinging.
They don’t know how hard I worked… how much I’ve given to be here.
She exhaled sharply and pushed herself upright, forcing her expression blank before walking into the lounge.
Inside, she opened her locker and stared at her reflection — pale, tired, and a little broken.
“Pull yourself together, Eva,” she whispered. “You’re a doctor first.”
But her gaze dropped to the note still in her hand.
“Good job, Walter.”
And somehow… it didn’t feel good anymore.
Eva was still sitting in the residents’ lounge, staring at the crumpled sticky note when her phone buzzed.
It was a text from Neil.
Neil: Something for you, Mrs. Morris. You’ll be excited to know. Meet me in 5 minutes to join me.
Her eyes lingered on the message for a few seconds.
“Something for me?” she murmured.
For a moment, her heart fluttered — the warmth of how he’d started believing her, trusted her with surgeries, made her feel seen.
And then… the gossip from earlier replayed in her mind.
"She’s getting opportunities because of him.
Maybe she’s giving something in return."
Her throat tightened.
She looked at the text again — the same words now felt different, heavier.
Is he… really favouring me?
The phone screen dimmed, and so did her excitement. She set it face down and walked toward the balcony instead, needing air.
“I can’t go,” she whispered to herself.
Dr. Neil Morris stood near the sterile zone, gloved and ready, his usual calm composure now lined with impatience.
“Where’s Dr. Walter?” he asked sharply, scanning the door.
“She was informed, sir,” one of the nurses replied. “Didn’t respond.”
Neil exhaled through his nose, suppressing frustration. The heart from Grace Hospital had just arrived — this was the transplant he’d been preparing for all week. The one he wanted Eva to assist on.
“Clamp ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Vitals stable?”
“All clear.”
He nodded, eyes flicking toward the door again.
Nothing.
Not even a shadow of her.
She should’ve been here by now.
He adjusted his gloves, expression unreadable, but his jaw tightened for a split second before he masked it again.
“Dr.Stephen and Dr.Seren , you’ll assist,” he said curtly.
There was a small flicker of surprise among the team — everyone knew who was supposed to be standing there.
But Neil didn’t say another word.
He turned back to the table, shoulders squared, and began the procedure. His hands were flawless, his focus razor-sharp, yet every now and then his mind flickered toward the empty space beside him.
The room felt colder than usual.
You had one job, Dr. Walter.
One chance. Why didn’t you show up?
He didn’t let the thought linger. Not now. Not in the middle of a transplant.
“Proceed with the graft,” he ordered calmly — even as something unspoken tightened in his chest.
Eva sat frozen in the lounge, her phone buzzing again.
Lexi: Eve, where the hell are you? It’s a heart transplantation!
Lexi: How dare you miss this, idiot?!
Lexi: Dr. Morris waited for you. You still didn’t show up.
Her eyes widened, blood draining from her face.
Heart transplantation.
She stared at the message like the words themselves were burning through her screen.
Waited for me?
Her heartbeat thudded painfully against her ribs. She gripped the phone tighter.
“Oh no…” she whispered, her voice barely a sound.
All those rumors, all that overthinking — and she’d just thrown away the biggest opportunity of her residency.
Eva shot up from the chair, her breath quick and uneven.
The ‘Operation in Progress’ sign glowed red. She slowed near the large glass panel that looked into the surgical theater.
Inside, the procedure was halfway through.
She could see Stephen carefully holding the functional donor heart, his gloved hands steady and glistening under the harsh OT lights.
Across the table stood Neil — focused, calm, precise — removing the damaged heart from the patient’s chest with that unmatched steadiness only he possessed.
The monitor beeped rhythmically. The team around him moved in synchronized silence, every motion a dance of control and pressure.
Eva stood among the other residents who were watching from outside, her breath catching in her throat.
The weight of realization hit her all at once — this was what he wanted her to witness.
To learn from.
To be part of.
And she had almost missed it.
Her chest tightened painfully.
She pressed her palm against the glass, watching Neil lean forward to attach the new heart. The quiet confidence in his eyes, the control in his movements — it was mesmerizing.
And when he finally looked up, just for a second, his gaze flicked toward the viewing panel — toward her.
Eva froze.
He didn’t react. Didn’t acknowledge. Just went back to his work.
That tiny moment — colder than any silence — was enough to crush her.
You really did it this time, Eve.
You let him down.
She stepped back, the lump in her throat almost suffocating her.
The OT lights dimmed, signaling the end of the surgery.
She could see them through the glass — the team removing their gloves, exhausted but accomplished.
Neil shaking hands with Stephen and Seren.
She could read his lips saying ,
"Good job"
His mask hanging loose around his neck, talking to the transplant coordinator with that cool, clipped tone he used when he was forcing his emotions into silence.
For a moment, he looked up.
Their eyes met through the glass again.
No words, no gestures — just that single look.
And somehow, that silence hurt more than if he had yelled.
Eva swallowed hard, guilt clawing at her throat.
You messed up, Eve.
He gave you a chance no one ever gets… and you walked away.
She turned quickly, slipping behind the corridor wall, unable to hold his gaze any longer.
Her fingers trembled as she typed back to Lexi:
Don’t ask. I screwed up.
Then deleted it before sending.
But she knew.
He was disappointed — not just as her mentor, but as the man who’d believed in her more than she realized.
Lexi, Trent, and Eva walked out through the hospital gates, the cool evening air cutting through the quiet tension.
Lexi threw her hands up dramatically. “How dumb of you, Eve! How can anyone miss a heart transplant? That too under Dr. Morris!”
Trent shook his head, half teasing, half serious. “You should’ve called me at least. I’d have ditched rounds and run for my life to be there.”
Eva sighed, clutching her bag tighter. “I know, okay? I messed up.”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “Messed up? He literally waited for you. You’re either insanely brave or stupidly suicidal.”
“Maybe both,” Trent muttered, earning a weak glare from Eva.
Lexi’s tone softened. “He didn’t look too happy, Eve. You should talk to him.”
Eva looked up just then — only to catch a glimpse of Neil’s car pulling out of the parking lot.
He didn’t wait.
Didn’t look back.
Her heart sank a little lower.
Lexi and Trent waved goodbye, walking off down the path, but Eva just stood there — still — watching the taillights disappear into the distance.
I need peace, she thought. Just one night away from all this.
She pulled out her phone, her fingers hovering over Neil’s contact for a moment before locking the screen.
Without another thought, she called a cab.
Granny’s face instantly brightened as she hugged Eva tight, her soft laughter muffled against Eva’s shoulder.
Granny: “Oh, my girl is home? What’s this surprise at this hour?”
Ria (from inside): “Who is it, Granny?”
Granny (grinning): “Your sister, sweetheart!”
Ria practically ran out of the room, her eyes widening the second she saw her.
Ria: “Eva! Are you serious right now?” She threw her arms around her. “You didn’t even tell us you were coming!”
Eva (smiling faintly): “Do I need to inform? I just… wanted to come home.”
Granny cupped her cheek, studying her face. “Something’s off, dear. You look tired.”
Eva: “Just… a long day.”
Ria (teasing): “Neil must be giving you a hard time again, huh?”
Eva forced a small laugh but didn’t reply. She just looked around, breathing in the familiar scent of her home—the calm, the laughter, the warmth she’d missed so much.
Granny: “I’ll warm up some soup. You’re getting a proper meal tonight.”
___
Eva sat at the edge of the bed, absentmindedly tracing circles on the blanket. The room was dim except for the warm glow of the fairy lights.
Ria watched her for a moment before speaking. “Okay, what’s up?” she said, crossing her arms. “You’ve been quiet ever since you got here. Something’s wrong—mind explaining?”
Eva shook her head quickly. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Don’t give me that,” Ria said firmly. “You don’t just show up in the middle of the night unless something’s bothering you.”
Eva sighed, trying to dodge her sister’s stare. “I just… needed a break.”
“Eva,” Ria pressed, her voice sharper now. “You never run from work. What happened?”
Finally, Eva’s shoulders slumped. “People at the hospital have been talking,” she said softly. “Saying I get more opportunities because of him. That I’m treated differently.”
Ria blinked. “What the hell? Who said that?”
Eva shrugged helplessly. “Doesn’t matter who. It just got to me today. I missed the heart transplant because I… I didn’t want to look like I was favoured.”
Ria’s expression softened. “Eva, you’re a great doctor. You’ve earned everything you’ve got. Why would he need to favour you?”
Eva smiled faintly, her voice small. “I know. But it still hurt.”
Ria leaned back with a half-smirk. “Well… he could favour you. He’s your husband, after all.”
Eva groaned and threw a pillow at her. “Ria!”
Ria laughed, catching it. “What? I’m just saying—if Dr. Iceberg has a soft spot for my sister, who am I to complain?”
Ria’s tone softened. “Eve… you’ve always been way too hard on yourself
Ria moved closer, sitting beside Eva. Her teasing smile faded into something gentler. “Hey,” she said, nudging Eva’s shoulder. “No matter what people say—you are who you are. You’ve worked hard for everything, and you don’t owe anyone an explanation for it.”
Eva looked up, her eyes glistening. “But it just felt so unfair today, Ria. I wanted to prove I’m there because of my skills, not because of… him.”
Ria sighed, brushing a strand of hair from Eva’s face. “You already have proved it,Eve. You think one surgery changes what kind of doctor you are? No. People talk when they see something they can’t have.”
Ria stood up, crossing her arms with that confident big-sister energy. “He’s only soft for you, Eva. You know that, right?”
Eva frowned faintly, whispering, “Soft? Neil?”
Ria chuckled. “Yeah. Dr. Machine, the man who looks like he’d scold a heartbeat for being irregular. But around you? He’s different.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Ria threw her arm around Eva’s shoulders. “Now, wipe that face. You’re home. And tomorrow, you’re gonna walk into that hospital like nothing can touch you.”
Eva smiled softly, leaning into her sister’s warmth. “I didn't know that my Lil one have upgraded her lil brain and talks all the mature stuff.”
Ria rolling her eyes. “you can just say Thank you"
---
Neil sat on the couch in his apartment,still waiting for her.The clock ticked past eleven. He had gone through the surgery reports twice, but his mind wasn’t on them.
He glanced at the door and his phone again and again — same screen, same message.
The last text he sent her hour ago which she never replied to.
“Something for you, Mrs. Morris. You’ll be excited to know. Meet me in 5 minutes.”
Read. Seen. No reply.
He exhaled sharply, tossing the phone beside him. “Of course,” he muttered under his breath. “Why would she even bother?”
He leaned back, rubbing his temples. The anger was still there — not because she missed the surgery, but because she didn’t tell him why. He had waited… for her.
His jaw tightened. “ Fine.”
He stood up, walked toward the balcony, the city lights reflecting faintly in his eyes. The cold air brushed against him, easing the heat in his chest just a little. But the silence of the flat felt heavier than usual — too still, too empty.
A faint smile tugged at his lips when he noticed the moist soil, still damp. She watered them every evening, humming softly while doing it. For a moment, the image of Eva standing there, hair tied up and sunlight on her face, played in his mind like a quiet reel.
That small flicker of warmth, however, didn’t last long.
Reality hit him — hard.
The message she left on seen.
Her absence in the OT.
The silence that followed.
His smile vanished, replaced by the familiar edge of frustration tightening his jaw. He turned away from the balcony and walked straight to his room, shutting the door behind him with a firm click.
The plants swayed lightly in the night breeze, the only reminder of the softness he was trying so hard to ignore.
He lay in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, pretending he didn’t care.
But every tick of the clock only made him wonder — She must be left to Walter home, and what is even bothering him this much?Is it her absence?