6. Seamus
six
Seamus
Two Weeks Later
The hospital cafeteria swells with voices, trays clattering, forks scraping, and low music bleeding through the overhead speakers.
It’s always packed at this hour. Residents inhale food before rounds. Nurses in scrubs lean in, laughing. Surgeons cluster at their usual tables, locked in case talk and quiet power plays.
I hover near the entrance, scanning for Bryce.
He asked me to meet him for lunch.
Unusual .
We’ve always been transactional—master, student.
Silence never surprised me before. Bryce isn’t the debrief type. Decades in neurosurgery trained him to cut, decide, move on.
Now he wants to talk. Obviously, considering I’m mostly in the research lab this year, I knew immediately what this was about.
It’s taken him long enough.
In my years of training with him, he’s never been a bedside-manner guy. Or someone who second-guesses himself. I figured after thirty years of risky procedures, he’s learned to compartmentalize his emotions when things take a turn.
I’m different. There’s no way for me to pretend her tiny body isn’t still lying in a hospital bed while her parents wait for a miracle. I’d love to comfort them. Try to explain. With a potential lawsuit pending, though, I can’t.
It sucks.
Once they’ve gone home for the evening, though, I find comfort sitting by Miranda’s side where I apologize for not being able to save her. Ask for forgiveness.
Cry.
If I manage to complete my residency, I’m going to be different than Bryce.
Until yesterday when he asked to meet up, I’d started to wonder if he even remembered her name. I guess a lawsuit is a good reminder.
Fuck, I’m not looking forward to this. Exhaling sharply, I shift my weight to the other foot. I hope he’s on time. Connor managed to find another lawyer, so I’m scheduled to go into her office in a couple hours.
A familiar voice rings out over the crowd, distracting me from my thoughts. “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”
I barely have time to turn before Abby, one of the night-shift trauma nurses I worked with as an R1, materializes beside me. She looks me up and down and her full lips curve into a knowing smile.
She tilts her head, auburn waves cascading over her shoulder. “It’s been a while.”
“Hey, Abby.” I nod, keeping my expression neutral. Polite.
Before she can say another word, another voice I know calls out, “Shay-mus, hi-yee!”
Good god. I don’t even have to look.
Lani .
Petite, blonde and—if memory serves—flexible, she sidles up to my other side with a look in her eye both playful and deadly.
Fucking great . How in the world do my rockstar brothers do it? Keeping up with multiple women is exhausting.
“I’ve missed our little stairwell dates. I heard you might be back in action.” Abby scoots in closer in to squeeze Lani out.
“Dates. As if.” Lani sniffs and holds her ground. “Whatcha been doing, Shay?”
This is torture. If my future weren’t at stake I’d bolt the fuck outta here. The truth is, I haven’t seen either of these ladies in over a year and I don’t care if I ever see them again.
There’s no need to make them feel bad, though. I only have myself to blame. “You know how it is. Residency. Long hours. No free time.”
“Honey, men have needs .” Abby tilts her head, her smile a little too knowing. “I’m down for a repeat.”
Lani scoffs. “Sounds like someone’s a little desperate. Cringe .”
For fuck’s sake.
Territorial posturing. It’s wild. Did I cause this? I’ve always been upfront about what my boundaries were. Everyone knows the drill.
“I didn’t know you two had a thing.” Abby lifts a brow.
Lani crosses her arms. “We did and you’re not part of it.”
I resist the urge to rub my temples. Things have clearly gone pear shaped. “Alright, let’s—”
“ McGloughlin .”
The voice is commanding. Direct.
I turn to see Bryce approaching, his usual confident stride carrying him across the cafeteria. His expression is unreadable at first and changes when his gaze flicks between Abby and Lani—flattening into something unmistakable.
Disapproval .
Shit.
The two nurses scatter, murmuring half-hearted goodbyes before disappearing back into the crowd.
Bryce stops in front of me, arms crossed, giving me the look. The one he’s given me a dozen times before. Half-bemused, half-irritated.
“Jesus, Seamus.” He shakes his head.
I sigh, already tired. “Let’s eat.”
Bryce turns and heads into the cafeteria. I follow, grabbing a sandwich and coffee, barely paying attention to what he chooses. We settle into a corner, away from the noise.
It’s about two point five seconds before he looks me over and points a fork in my direction. “You have to cut this shit out.”
“Cut what out?” I stop mid-chew.
He gestures vaguely toward where I was standing with the nurses. “The… sideshow .”
“I wasn’t flirting.” I huff a quiet laugh.
“No. You probably fucked both of them in the stairwell,” Bryce scoffs. “Come on, McGloughlin. Everyone knows what’s going on.”
I take a slow sip of my coffee without answering. His words take me by surprise, though. Is it true? Are my secret extracurricular activities not so secret?
“You’ve always been the charming one. The golden boy.
” He leans forward slightly. “Charismatic shit only works for a while, son. I must tell you, I’m concerned.
You’re gonna fuck up your career before it begins.
Please decide what kind of surgeon you want to be.
” He shakes his head. “No one’s going to take you seriously with the way you’re carrying on. ”
Carried on . I swallow the irritation rising in my chest. Aside from Cecily, it’s been nearly two years.
There’s something heavier in his voice. Foreboding. Like my casual flings are a personal annoyance to him.
I lean back. “Are we here to discuss my personal life?”
“No. We’re here because I got served.” A vein pops out on Bryce’s forehead..
I stare at him for a beat. “Miranda? Should I be worried?”
“You ask if you should be worried when I was sued for malpractice a couple weeks ago? Fuck me, McGloughlin. Probably . Her parents moved fast. Hired a woman named Marcella Delgado from Finney Cooper, the biggest firm in town.” He spits her name out like it’s a curse.
“She’s ruthless and plays dirty. Apparently, has never lost a case.
My lawyer warned me I’m going to get dragged through the mud. ”
“Shit. What can I do to help?” My mind races. Do I tell him I already know about the lawsuit? Would it piss him off to know I’m already preparing for the worst?
He exhales, rubbing his temple. “Look. I tried to keep you out of it. Unfortunately, I’m not sure she’ll leave you alone. The goddamn woman is determined to make my life a living nightmare, and anyone else who was in the OR with me.”
“How?” Hell. This is worse than I thought.
Something in his voice changes. Something I don’t like.
“Well, like I said. I was trying to keep you out of it. Yesterday, I was deposed. She was a fucking bitch,” Bryce seethes. “Fat. Smug. Nasty piece of work. Thinks she can outsmart me? Please .”
I go still. Bryce doesn’t notice—he’s too caught up in his own anger.
“Chubby little pit bull,” he sneers. “Trying to pin something on me she doesn’t understand. You know how some women are. They get a little power to make up for the fact they can’t get a man.”
He lets out a low, humorless chuckle.
My stomach turns. I knew Bryce had an ego. I knew he had a temper. This is something else—my instincts at preparing for the worst were spot on.
“Do they have a case?” I press my lips together.
Bryce waves a dismissive hand. “One hundred percent bullshit. They’ve got nothing. I stand by every single move I made.”
My mind reels. He made the decision to keep going…
His eyes darken. “So should you.”
I stare at him. For the first time since I met Bryce Caldwell, I don’t recognize him.
“So, have you been contacted?” He watches me closely.
I hesitate because I’m confused. Should I tell him I’ve hired counsel? Can I trust him?
“No.” I decide to play my cards close to my vest. Because the truth is—no. I haven’t been served yet. Technically, I know nothing. No subpoena. No lawsuit. I haven’t been involved in any legal capacity. “How can I help?”
“Lay low. Stay out of trouble.” He stands and claps my shoulder. “Focus on your work. For God’s sake, don’t fuck hospital staff in the stairwell. Stop giving people ammunition to use against you because it’ll look bad on me.”
Selfish prick. Whatever happens next—I have to take care of myself.
I nod slowly, looking up at him. “Will do.”
Bryce exhales, looking briefly relieved. “Good. We need to be on the same page here.”
“I’ve got to go.” I finish the last of my coffee, glancing at the time. My meeting is in twenty minutes, and suddenly, I feel like I need protection more than ever.
The thing is—I’m not sure I want to work with him ever again, no matter what happens. I know who he is now and I’ll never be able to trust him.
I push back my chair. Bryce waits for me, something sharp in his gaze. “You sticking with me on this?”
His question hangs in the air, tainted and heavy.
“Of course,” I say. The lie scrapes my throat raw.
When I turn away, it isn't guilt curdling in my gut.
It’s shame.
The sick truth I might sell myself out to survive.