Chapter 33 – Catalina
“Here,” my surgical tech Jordan says, falling into step beside me in the cold hallway of the hospital where I've practiced medicine for over a decade. “You look like you need this.”
She presses a coffee into my hand, and I take it without protest. I haven’t had coffee in…
a very, very long time. And she knows that.
I’ve never needed it. I used to roll out of bed already wired, adrenaline humming in my veins just from knowing I’d get to do the thing I love most: operate.
Cut into bodies. Repair them. Fix what was broken. I lived for it.
But today's different because last night I didn't sleep. I was up replaying every detail of Olivia’s last surgery and preparing myself to do it right this time, so she’ll never have to be cut open again.
I must get it right this time. There’s a different fuel pushing me forward today.
Passion, yes. But also, a hunger to make her whole.
A hunger to prove to myself that I can still do this.
Part of it is Olivia, this little girl who never deserved the path she was handed.
Part of it is finishing what I started here years ago, long before Jensen ever stepped into my orbit.
And part of it is the clock that's ticking in my chest, counting down the hours until I can get back to Jensen in time for his finals in San Diego.
I’ve never felt this anxious before a ride in my life.
I know Jensen’s shoulder is good. I know his heart is strong.
I cleared him myself. But the way we left things unfinished and unspoken has me spiraling with the quiet fear that if something does happen to him…
he wouldn’t know how deeply I care. How completely he’s lodged himself inside my life, and the way that I want him to stay there.
Telling someone how I really feel about them has never mattered to me like it does right now.
I have to get to him in time. I have to apologize.
I have to tell him I love him.
I take a long sip of the coffee. It burns all the way down, sharp and bitter. How do people drink this every morning? It's disgusting.
Jordan’s eyes widen. “That was a test,” she says.
I cut my eyes at her, schooling my face into my most severe, don’t-mess-with-me expression—then let it soften when I notice there’s something different about her today.
Her hair. It's shorter. She got it cut. And I wonder how long it’s been like that?
If I’ve just been gone for too long or too wrapped up in my own head and problems to notice the people around me.
“Your haircut looks good,” I say. "Brings out the shape of your eyes."
Her eyes widen even more. “Oh my God, now you're complimenting me? Is this about a boy?”
“No.”
Maybe. Yes. Definitely. A man. A big, broody cowboy.
I stop outside Olivia’s room, draw in a steadying breath, bracing myself to face her parents again—the people who trusted me with their entire world wrapped up in one tiny, adorable human. Then I glance back at Jordan.
“Yes,” I admit softly. “It is about a man. And before you think I’m rushing it, or that he’s not good for me, I promise you, he is.”
She nods like she already knew. “You didn’t have to explain. I know that he's one of the good ones.”
My brows raise. “How?”
She just smiles, pushes open the door, and says softly, “Come see Olivia.” Then lets me walk into something I could have never prepared for.
Olivia is sitting up in bed, her back propped with pillows and wearing a wide smile across her adorable face.
And the room... wow. It's overflowing with flowers—so many that it looks like she’s been dropped in the middle of a greenhouse.
The air smells sweet and alive. Get Well cards are taped to the walls, handwritten notes dangling from strings, words of encouragement strung everywhere I look.
Love is everywhere in this room to the point that you can feel it like something physical.
It's only been a few days since I saw her last, but she looks infinitely better despite the procedure not being a full success. I step toward some of the flowers, getting a closer look, and that’s when I confirm my suspicions.
The flowers are not just any flowers, they’re mostly Catalinas.
He sent flowers named after me.
“Wow,” I say softly to the little girl. “Someone must be thinking about you.”
She beams, glancing at her parents, who look nervous but hopeful.
“Yep! Aren’t they pretty, Doctor?”
I smile. “They are. And how are you feeling today?"
She smiles, practically bouncing in the bed despite being hooked up to different monitors taking her vitals. "I'm doing good! I had the coolest visitor yesterday who brought all these with him!”
“Oh, you did?” I pull out my tools, starting my assessment—listening to her heart, checking the incision that’s already healing beautifully even though I’ll have to regrettably reopen it one last time in an hour.
She nods enthusiastically. “It was a real cowboy!”
My hands pause over her heart. Jensen came here to visit her? Jensen bought these flowers, yes, but Jensen came here with the Catalinas?
My eyes flick to Jordan who's leaning against the doorway watching us. I loop my stethoscope around my neck.
“A real cowboy came to visit you yesterday?”
She nods again, even more excited. “Yes! He told me all about how he rides bulls that try to kill him every night in front of a big arena. He showed me videos too. It was so silly.” She giggles. “Who would do something like that for fun?”
A crazy man. A wild man. A man I never would’ve picked for myself if he hadn't forced me to get to know him. To see past the playful grin, rough exterior and to the heart of the best person I’ve ever met.
“That does sound funny,” I manage to get out. My throat is thick with emotion.
She keeps smiling as I gently check her neck for swelling and try to focus on the examination.
“He said he’s met you before,” she adds.
I pause again.
“He said you fixed his heart,” she continues, proud and not the least bit aware of the way my pulse is stuttering.
“And that you're the only reason he can keep doing what he loves every night because you gave him a second chance. He also said that you’ll fix mine too this time. So, I can grow up and be a bull rider if I want someday.”
“Olivia,” her mother says gently from next to her.
My chest tightens so hard it almost hurts.
I crouch down beside the bed, bringing myself level with her, and look straight into her hazel eyes.
They’re wide and unguarded. Full of trust. Full of hope in me.
And that’s what this was all about, wasn’t it?
Jensen came here to give Olivia hope, because he believes in me, and he wanted me to believe in myself.
The thing that’s always lived in Jensen’s eyes when he looks at me has been hope, hasn't it?
The thing that was there the last time we talked—when his voice went quiet and careful and he asked if there was a chance that I could forgive him someday.
If there was any chance at all that we could try again.
Hope.
It’s the last thing any of us have when we’re standing on the edge of a disaster we never saw coming. The one thing that keeps us from letting go.
And now I have it—for us. For Olivia. For the impossible way Jensen showed up here, wedged between finals and flights and expectations, just to give a little girl the same hope he once asked me for.
I don't need hope; I have something better. I have forgiveness. For him, for myself, and for Davis. And I need to tell him that.
I smile at her, even as emotion tightens in my throat. That burn has never spilled out in front of patients before and I won't start that today.
“I did fix that cowboy’s heart,” I tell her softly. And he fixed mine. “And I’ll fix yours too if you want to ride bulls someday.”
She grins like she’s been waiting for me to say exactly that and leans back against her pillows. “I’m ready now, Dr. Alba. Take me to surgery.”
Her parents and Jordan laugh gently from the doorway. I rise to my feet, smiling down at her, then nod to her parents. When I turn, Jordan is watching me with a smug little tilt to her mouth.
“We’ll wheel her back in about thirty minutes,” Jordan tells the parents as I step into the hallway. She follows me right on my heels. When the door closes, I turn to her.
“You saw Jensen yesterday and you didn’t say anything?"
She nods. “Didn’t know he was the reason for the smile, but I started connecting dots quickly.”
I turn the corner, far enough that no one else can hear us, and lace my hands together, rubbing them like I’m trying to warm myself.
“I feel like I was just finally getting over what Davis did to me when Jensen burst into my life. Now I'm realizing, I wasn't entirely over the pain he caused, and I passed that hurt onto Jensen. I think I hurt him pretty badly.”
She studies me for half a second. “So, apologize. He seems very understanding. Because you already know I’m going to say go for it. That man's built like a tree on the outside, but his inside is all gooey caramel. You should have seen him with Olivia and her parents.”
I shake my head. “I don’t have any hesitation about Jensen. I know the kind of man he is.” My voice steadies. “He’s the best.”
“Good,” she says. “Then what’s the problem?”
I straighten, spine locking into place. “There’s something I need to settle first. To be fair to him. I need to take care of this, so that I never bring my past into my future again.”
She nods like she understands what I have to do. “I’ll page you once Olivia’s in the OR and anesthesia begin their prep.”
“Thank you.”
Then I take off, moving down the hall, toward the elevators, toward the orthopedic floor.
It’s a longer walk than I expected, my thoughts racing ahead of my feet.
By the time I reach Davis’s floor, I briefly wonder if I’ve miscalculated everything—if he’ll be scrubbed in and unreachable.
Thankfully, I notice his light is on under his door.
Because this is a conversation that can't wait until after surgery.