Chapter 38
CHAPTER 38
AZARA
Today should have felt like one of the best days of my life.
But as I headed for the nineteenth floor of Amanar, where the fate of my future here was set to be decided, each step grew heavier than the last.
I’d spent the last week and a half throwing myself headfirst into work.
More than I ever had before.
I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I never claimed to be the perfect picture for coping.
The more I worked, the less I thought about him and the last thing I wanted was to think, breathe or see anything related to Michael Young.
Even if that was easier said than done.
Thankfully, for once, he’d respected my wishes to leave me alone. I didn’t know how he’d managed it, but I hadn’t seen him since he walked out of my apartment.
Of course, I heard the staff talk about him in passing, they never missed an opportunity to share just how amazing of a surgeon and colleague he was. But beyond that, I hadn’t even run into him by accident.
Ironic, considering how often that had seemed to happen at our beginning.
But perhaps that had been part of his plans all along. To infiltrate every aspect of my life, until my world pre-Michael was a distant memory.
I stepped off the lift and into the sleek, polished hallway. A jarring contrast to how my life felt at the moment.
The doors to the conference room loomed ahead, and I felt my heartbeat quicken the closer I got to it. My stomach had been in knots for days now, but I felt like I might actually be sick.
The weight of everything that led me here seemed to weigh on me all at once, but I compelled myself to remember what had brought me here in the first place.
I’d poured the last decade of my life into this job.
Long hours. Sleepless nights. Emotional unavailability.
I’d done everything by the book.
So everything would be fine.
Right ?
Then why did I feel like I was heading toward my execution?
I pushed the eerie feeling away and rolled my shoulders back, smoothing my hands over the white long-sleeve shirt and black tailored trousers I’d changed into after my last surgery. I’d hoped the gesture would soothe the nerves that had been gnawing at me since I woke up this morning, but it didn't help.
Azara, you got this , I told myself and although I’d usually believe it, I would be lying if I said my confidence wasn’t wavering. And I hated it.
I’d never doubted my abilities, never lost confidence in what I could accomplish, but after what happened with Michael, I’d replayed the entirety of the past year over and over again, questioning everything, until I’d been too exhausted to think and had fallen into a restless sleep.
Only to wake up the next and do it all over again.
On the third day, I’d even driven all the way to my father's to speak with him, only to sit in my car for hours, staring at a place someone I clearly barely knew lived in.
How could he have done this? Why had he done it?
My emotions swung from sadness to anger and back again after what the recording had revealed and I just couldn’t bring myself to face him. I’d had a thousand questions and didn’t know where to begin.
In the end, I’d turned my car around and had left.
By the time I’d made it home, the bone deep exhaustion that had been weighing down on me for days had flipped a switch inside me. I had a position to secure, and if I kept thinking about how my life had been radically turned upside down, I’d never make it out in one piece.
Maybe my decision had been selfish of me, but I’d worked too fucking hard, given too much to others and put myself last so many times, that I didn’t want to do it anymore. I was done with tiptoeing around what I wanted, what I needed for the sake of everything and everyone else.
So, I’d shoved every thought of Michael, my father, the pictures, and the note from The Gilded Truth to the very back of my brain to be dealt with later.
I’d barely made it to the conference room where the decision would be delivered, when I felt a prickle of heat on my neck.
I was afraid to look up, but there was no point in avoiding facing him. I knew he’d be there, he awaited the same decision as I did, but a small part of me had wished they wouldn’t call us in at the same time.
My pulse quickened to a threatening rhythm as I slowly lifted my gaze toward where he stood at the end of the corridor. My heart almost stopped beating when my eyes landed on him.
I hadn’t seen him in so long, and as hard of a job I had done to not think of him and his betrayal, my stupid feelings for him threatened to resurface.
How much you own my heart could never be a lie.
I’d replayed those words so many times in my head, it was almost embarrassing.
I didn’t know much about love, but I knew that love shouldn’t hurt.
Love could be messy and hard, but it should never be painful to the point that your heart bled from how the person that had been supposed to protect it, wounded it.
Oxygen grew scarce with each step he took toward me. My chest tightened, until a sharp, physical ache settled deep inside, when he stopped just a few feet away.
Michael slipped his hands in his trousers, his throat flexing with a hard swallow. His eyes flickered with uncertainty and guilt as they searched my face for something I was no longer willing to offer.
Panic surged inside me from the fear he’d try to talk to me, but a giant breath of relief flooded my lungs when the door to the conference room opened.
“You’re both just on time,” Thompson said, his voice cool as he appraised us. He then zeroed his attention on me, not wasting any time. “Dr. Ziani, if you’ll follow me.”
I couldn’t decide whether going first was a good or bad thing, but there was no time to dwell on it. Instead, I plastered my most jovial expression on my face and followed him inside, where the twelve board members greeted me.
They were all smiling at me—all except for James Kay. Which was unsurprising after the events of Nakia’s exhibition. I took a seat at the other head of the table, trying not to focus on the weight of their scrutinizing gazes.
My hands itched to pick at something to calm my escalating nerves, suddenly very aware of being the centre of attention, but I reminded myself that this was what I did best.
Perform under pressure.
Though, to be honest, the operating theater was a much more soothing environment to me than being under the attention of twelve people who held the next big step in your career in their hands.
After a moment of silence, Dr. Alexander, the hospital’s CEO, cleared his throat and cut straight to the point. He began explaining what my duties would be as medical director, alongside my role on the board as an executive director.
I’d already known all of this since my father had held this very position since I’d started working here after graduating medical school. Still, I nodded along, offering the necessary affirmation that I understood the responsibilities I was about to take on.
It meant I’d be spending less time operating, but if it meant shaping how the hospital was run, I was willing to give up some of my hours in the theater for this.
Besides, my father had managed to balance both, and the board had promised a possibility to revisit our hours once we settled into the role.
My nerves began to settle the more they reviewed my performances over the years, explained how much of a valuable impact my work and teaching sessions had on new doctors and how impressed they were by how much I’d accomplished over a short period of time.
It’s going to be fine, I told myself, smiling with relief as their words continued to affirm everything I’d worked for.
Dr. Alexander paused for a moment, allowing his praise to sink in.
But then, just as I was beginning to breathe easy, a whisper of doubt crept into the back of my brain, trying to warn me, but it wasn’t quick enough.
“But,” he continued, his tone shifting, “we’ve decided to move forward with another candidate.”
My heart plummeted straight into my stomach.
“It was an extremely tight vote and..” the CEO’s voice continued speaking, but everything around me faded into a blur. I didn’t catch the rest of his explanation.
I sat there, dazed and struggling to process what had just happened.
I knew there was a chance I wouldn’t get it, but…
Ten years.
Ten years of hard work reduced to nothing.
“Thank you for the consideration,” I said numbly. I wasn’t sure if they were done talking, or if they’d already dismissed me, but at this moment, it didn’t matter.
All I wanted to do was get out of this room and go home.
I stood, my legs slightly unsteady beneath me, but I held myself tall as I walked out of the door. And as if things couldn’t get worse, I came face-to-face with an expectant Michael.
His face fell when his gaze met mine.
If things were different, I’d think he was disappointed that I didn’t get it.
If things were different, I’d believe he was sorry.
If things were different, I’d crush my body to his and find solace in his arms.
But things weren’t different.
I stared at him for a moment, wondering how I hadn’t seen through his act.
What had it been about him that had made me throw caution away? Had made me forget why I’d put up walls for so long when it came to love?
It wasn't like I hadn’t believed in it, I’d witnessed its beauty with my parents.
Until it was cruelly ripped away from them.
I supposed it was in my blood for love to always end tragically.
“Congratulations Dr. Young,” I finally said, my tone flat. “You got exactly what you wanted.”
Then I brushed past him and walked away.