17. Sophia
17
SOPHIA
T he steady beep of the heart monitor filled the OR, a soft background hum to the tension in the air. I adjusted my grip on the suction device, keeping the field clear as Jack worked. My hands were steady, more so than usual, and I wasn’t sure if it was from practice or something else.
Jack's voice cut through the room, calm and controlled. “Dr. Chen, keep the suction on the junction. This isn’t the time to lose focus.” His words were a chastisement, but even still, they weren't harsh. Not the way he spoke to Dr. Briggs. I knew the past few weeks of our sneaking around, stealing kisses, was the reason. He had a soft spot for me.
“I’m on it,” I said, a little too quickly, trying to sound as composed as he did. God, why was I so keyed-up today? I’d assisted him dozens of times by now, but today felt different. Maybe it was the surgery, because Dr. Briggs was in here with us. Or maybe it was the fact that we had spent the last two nights together, and I still hadn’t figured out how to act around him when we were surrounded by a sterile field and a heart monitor instead of… well, each other.
Focus, Sophie, focus . My mind scolded itself, and I blinked hard to push away the distracting thoughts.
The surgery wasn’t anything wildly complicated—at least, not for Jack. The patient had a rare thoracic vascular malformation that required precision, but we weren’t in crisis mode. Not yet, at least. Jack made it look easy, his hands moving with that effortless skill that still left me in awe sometimes. I knew I was in the right place learning from the right doctor, even if my dad didn't agree.
And then there was me, trying not to remember the way those hands had felt just two nights ago, tracing over my skin with the same kind of practiced care. My God, was he incredible. Not the time to think about that. Definitely not.
“Dr. Briggs, pass me the clamp,” Jack said, breaking into my thoughts. Dr. Briggs handed him the instrument, a little too quickly. His nerves were showing. He was far more practiced than me, but anything out of the routine appendectomy or gallbladder surgery had him shaken, the way I used to feel every time I walked into this place.
Jack glanced over at my co-intern but didn’t say anything. He was too focused on the delicate work in front of us. The clamp secured a small vessel that'd been threatening to cause trouble, and I felt a rush of relief. He was always steady under pressure. Me? I was getting better at it—mostly thanks to him.
Dr. Briggs, though, was still learning. He’d been watching me the whole time, probably noticing how different I was today. I could feel it myself—my movements more sure, my focus sharper, like I had something to prove, because I did. Or maybe it wasn’t about proving anything. Maybe it was just that being around Jack had started to feel like second nature. Too natural, actually. And too intimate.
“Dr. Chen," Jack said, his tone a little softer than before. I snapped my gaze up to him. “Keep an eye on the junction here. We can’t afford a bleed.”
“I’ve got it,” I replied, my voice steady, though my heart wasn’t. There it was again—his voice—that calm, confident tone that did something to me. God, I needed to get my head together. He wasn’t thinking about anything but the surgery. He never lost focus like I did. Not here, at least.
“Dr. Chen, you seem… different today,” Dr. Briggs said, almost too casually.
I froze for a second, feeling heat rise to my cheeks, even under the mask. Jack didn’t respond, his attention still fixed on the surgical field. I wasn’t about to respond either, but Dr. Briggs didn’t seem to get the memo.
“I mean, not in a bad way,” Dr. Briggs continued, oblivious. “You just seem… I don’t know, more confident.”
I could feel Jack's eyes flick to me for a split second before he went back to work, and my stomach did a strange little flip. I knew how he felt, how he'd already cautioned me that I was changing and blossoming into a confident doctor. I was supposed to, after all, but he warned me how our secret escapades could result in my making mistakes. The reason I had to try even harder to focus on what I was doing and couldn’t afford distractions like Dr. Briggs was bringing up right now.
“Well, when you work with the same person enough, you start to find your rhythm,” I told him, trying to keep my tone casual. I wasn’t going to let Dr. Briggs’ curiosity pull me into anything I didn’t want to reveal.
“Uh-huh,” Dr. Briggs said, clearly unconvinced.
Dr. Thornton cut in before I could respond. “Dr. Briggs, pay attention to the vitals, not the conversation.”
The way Jack's voice shifted told me he wasn’t in the mood for small talk, but there was something else in his tone. Maybe I was imagining it, but there was a tension there, something barely concealed. Or maybe I was just projecting. The harsh tone of his voice resembled my first day when he told me I wasn't here to play guessing games. And the wince on Dr. Briggs's face showed how much he disliked being chastised.
I went back to my task, focusing on the suction. I felt Jack's gaze on me again, brief but intense. We had worked together a lot in the last five weeks, but this was different. This wasn’t just about being good in the OR. He looked at me like his lover, another warning to conceal the intimacy we shared, and I had tried to do just that.
But now it was starting to show.
The heart monitor gave a sudden beep, sharp and jarring.
“Dr. Thornton,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. It felt jarring to use his title. His hands stilled, and I could see the subtle change in his posture.
“I see it,” Jack replied, his voice as calm as ever, but I could feel the shift in the room. “Dr. Chen, keep that suction in place. Dr. Briggs, check the pressure.”
Dr. Briggs fumbled with the monitor, his hands a little shaky. I could almost feel his panic rising, but Jack wasn’t rattled. Not even close.
“The pressure’s dropping,” Dr. Briggs said, his voice tight. “What do we do?”
“We don’t panic,” Jack replied smoothly, his hands moving faster now, working with a precision that took my breath away. “Dr. Chen, stay with me. We’ve got a vessel leak.”
I nodded, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline as I adjusted the suction, keeping the area as clear as I could. We’d done this before—worked together through tough moments—and somehow, we always clicked.
Jack moved quickly, tying off the vessel in what felt like record time. I was holding my breath, watching him the whole time, and when he finally leaned back, I realized I hadn’t exhaled in what felt like forever.
“Pressure’s stabilizing,” Dr. Briggs announced, his voice shaky but relieved. “We’re good.”
Jack glanced up at me, and for a moment, it was just the two of us. His eyes held mine, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. We were like two cogs in a well-oiled machine.
I looked away first, my pulse still racing, but not from the surgery.
Dr. Briggs cleared his throat, bringing me back to the present. “You two really have a rhythm, huh?” He sounded curious but a little suspicious.
I forced a smile behind my mask, trying to shrug it off. “Yeah, I guess we do.”
Jack didn’t say anything, just gave a quick nod. He handed me the final instrument to close the incision. My hands moved on autopilot, but my mind wasn’t in the OR anymore. It was back to the nights we’d spent together, the quiet moments between shifts that no one else knew about.
When I tied off the last suture, I glanced up again, catching Jack's gaze again. There was something in his eyes, something no one else would notice but me. It was a reminder of what we weren’t saying out loud.
“Good work, Dr. Chen,” Jack said with a steady voice, but I could hear the edge to it—the tension beneath the professionalism. I wondered if Dr. Briggs heard it too.
But if he did, he didn’t say anything. He just watched as I finished, probably still wondering exactly what had changed between me and Jack.
Dr. Briggs was the first to leave and scrub out. The nursing staff stayed to finish the dressing and clean up along with the anesthesiologist. Jack and I made our way out of the OR just as Dr. Briggs was leaving the scrub room. He'd be in Jack's office when we got there, so we only had a split second of privacy. But Jack stole a kiss and grabbed my ass with a firm grip, leaving a bloody handprint on my surgical gown which I quickly tore off and tossed in the bin.
"Now, Dr. Thornton, you're going to get caught if you keep being risky like that." I smirked at him as I took off my gloves then stripped off my mask.
He was disrobing too, prepping to wash his hands and go back to his office for a debrief about the surgery. I thought it went well, and I'd have guessed Jack did too. Except with Dr. Briggs's suspicious behavior, I knew later tonight there would be another serious conversation. We'd had so many of them that I already rehearsed in my mind what he'd tell me, that we were walking on thin ice, dangling by a thread. That he had to keep his job.
I loved that he was so cautious and protective of both his job and mine, but I knew he was being too worried. Even if Dr. Briggs came right out and accused us of having an affair, he had no proof.
"Well if you don’t stop being so fucking amazing in the OR, you're going to give it away. Briggs is getting jealous of you.” Jack winked at me and turned on the faucet. I stood beside him washing my hands and feeling giddy about the closeness I felt with him.
"You think he's just jealous? I felt like he was suspicious."
"He might be. We just have to be more careful." Jack seemed too casual for this moment, but maybe he was feeling more relaxed and at ease with me too. "See you in my office," he said, pecking me on the cheek quickly before grabbing a towel and darting out.
I finished up and started toward his office when I got a phone call. My cell, buried in my pants pocket, vibrated against my leg, so I stopped to pull it out and answer.
"Dr. Chen speaking. How can I help you?" This number was only for professional calls, though my parents had it for emergencies. My personal cell was in my locker in the doctors’ lounge. I didn't know who would even call me here since I wasn't on call, but a call was a call.
"Dr. Chen, this is Dr. Manning from Johns Hopkins. Is now a good time?" The man's voice paralyzed me. I stood stock still in the hallway, staring at Jack's back as he disappeared from view down the way.
"Uh, hi. Yes, it's okay." I went from bold, confident Sophia to anxious and indecisive Sophia instantly. My father had given this man my number without my permission and I didn't know how to respond to that. He clearly had not listened to my words when I told him I was happy here and not planning to leave.
"Dr. Chen, I was informed by your father that you are looking to upgrade your residency. Is this correct?" The man paused, but I couldn’t even stammer out a sentence before he continued. "It was quite a feat, but I have secured a grant to allow me to take on one more intern this year, with an allowance in the budget to extend the offer for up to five years total. Now this would be a localized trauma surgeon residency, not the generalized surgical you're doing now, but I believe it is worth your while. The pay is better, and for the time spent, you'll have more experience."
I stuttered out a few syllables and felt like crying. Anger rose up and swelled in my chest until my eyes were tearing up. Dad had no right to do this. He knew how easily I was pushed around and swayed by other people. He'd done something similar when I wanted to join marching band and I was determined to play clarinet, and he told the band director I wanted to play trumpet—because it was more practical. Needless to say, I ended up cowering and playing the brass instead of woodwinds.
"Dr. Manning, can I please get back with you on this?" I asked, not even knowing where to begin with him. I couldn't just outright refuse. I'd look like a complete idiot. My father was the respected one, not me. They'd think I was being selfish and insubordinate, which I was, but only because I should have been allowed to make my own choices.
"Certainly, but think quickly. We only have this availability for four weeks to make the decision, and I have to provide the option for a few other interns too, just in case." Dr. Manning sounded like a very nice man, but he wasn't Jack, and he wasn't my first choice.
"Thank you," I told him, and I hung up with shaking hands. I knew if Dr. Briggs found out that I'd been offered such an incredible internship at such a prestigious hospital whose reputation outweighed Twin Peaks' by miles, he would know something was up. No one would stay here instead of taking that offer. No one but me.
And I only had one singular reason for staying. And it wasn’t the medicine.