Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kendall
The conference room that Richard and I were in last time is the same room we are escorted back into during decision day.
Rain beats against the glass of the windows, turning the city beyond into a watercolor blur—gray buildings bleeding into a gray sky, the world reduced to muted shapes. The lighting in here feels harsh, but maybe that’s just because I’m about to lose my license for falling in love.
I sit at the long table, hands folded in my lap, trying to look calm even though my pulse is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.
My lawyer, Richard Palmer, sits beside me, tablet open, pen poised, his expression carefully neutral in that way lawyers have when they're trying not to show you how bad things are.
Across from us, three board members sit in a row: Dr. Helena Pierce in the center, flanked by Dr. Lowe and Dr. Oswald. Their expressions range from stern to skeptical to something that might be sympathy if you squint hard enough.
This is it.
The moment everything I've worked for—every late night, every exam, every patient I've saved—comes down to a single decision made by three people who don't know me, don't care about me, and are only here because my ex-husband decided to destroy my life one more time.
Dr. Pierce opens the file in front of her with a soft rustle of paper, her eyes scanning the first page with clinical detachment.
"Dr. Hensen," she begins, her voice measured and flat.
"This review concerns allegations of ethical misconduct—specifically, that you engaged in an inappropriate relationship with a patient under your medical supervision, resulting in a conflict of interest that compromised your professional judgment. "
I force myself to meet her gaze. "I understand."
"The incident in question," she continues, flipping to the next page, "occurred following a regular-season game at the Hawkeyes Arena.
Video footage shows a physical altercation involving your ex-husband, Tarron McCoy, and Aleksi M?kelin, a player currently under your care.
The altercation resulted in injuries requiring medical attention. "
My chest tightens. I can still see it—the tunnel, the cameras, Tarron's hand on my arm, Aleksi's face going hard and dangerous in a way I'd never seen before.
Get your hands off her.
Richard leans forward slightly, his voice calm and measured.
"Dr. Hensen acted in good faith throughout this situation.
The altercation was initiated by Mr. McCoy, who was intoxicated and became aggressive toward Dr. Hensen.
Mr. M?kelin intervened to protect Dr. Hensen.
The media escalated the situation beyond anyone's control. "
Dr. Oswald—the man with wire-rimmed glasses and a perpetual frown—speaks up.
"The fact remains that Dr. Hensen's involvement with this player created a situation in which her professional objectivity was compromised.
Regardless of who initiated the altercation, the outcome demonstrates a failure to maintain appropriate boundaries. "
"The player who intervened was acting out of concern for Dr. Hensen's safety," Richard counters smoothly. "He was not under her direct care at the time of the incident—"
"Mr. Palmer," Dr. Pierce interrupts, her voice sharp. "We're not here to debate the specifics of the altercation. We're here to determine whether Dr. Hensen's conduct meets the ethical standards required of a licensed physician."
The walls press in. The air feels thin.
This is happening. This is really happening.
My hand drifts instinctively to my belly. Niko shifts beneath my palm, as if he knows what's going on.
Dr. Pierce glances at her colleagues, then back at me. "Before we proceed, I'd like to clarify something in your file."
My stomach drops. "Yes?"
She flips through several pages, her frown deepening. "You were previously reviewed by the Florida State Medical Board in connection with similar allegations. Is that correct?"
Heat floods my face. "Yes. But the complaint was dismissed. There was no relationship—it was just rumors."
Then after a moment I remember that Tarron told me they already had a file open on me. This would have happened even before the altercation.
"I’m sorry…” I ask, realizing that the proceedings in Florida had never gone anywhere due to the lack of facts in the claim against me.
“I actually was never told who filed that complaint against me in Florida. I had just assumed it was from the press storm that the board had been tipped off. Did someone actually file a complaint?” I ask
“Yes…” Dr. Lowe says, sliding on her glasses and opens a file she has in front of her. I can see her scanning the document and then says, “The complaint was filed by Tarron McCoy.”
Shock hits me first, then fires rages in my stomach. Tarron knew the entire time that none of the men I had dated after our divorce were players under my care. He did that on purpose to rattle me, and let me believe it was the media that got me in trouble.
He was jealous and tried to end my career… after everything he had already put me through. I can barely believe it.
“Did you just say Tarron McCoy filed the complaint against me in Florida?”
I look over at my lawyer who is just now processing the entirety of what I am saying.
“Dr. Pierce, can I ask… did you have a file open for me before the incident in the hallway happened?”
“Yes, we had opened it a week prior and were gathering information, though just as the last time, we had no real evidence except for a complaint we received.”
Richard practically jumps out of his seat. “Is it possible that the same person made the exact same allegation against my client?’
She looks up, her expression carefully neutral, and then looks back over the file in front of her. "Yes, in fact, it would appear that the current complaint was also filed by Mr. McCoy."
The room goes still.
Richard's head snaps to me. "I'm sorry—are you saying that the only two allegations against my client, spanning two states and five years, both come from the same individual? Her ex-husband?"
Dr. Pierce glances at the file again, then nods slowly. "That appears to be correct."
My brain scrambles to catch up, pieces clicking into place with sickening clarity.
Tarron filed the first complaint.
Tarron.
Not some concerned colleague. Not a random reporter. Tarron.
And then when they didn’t have enough evidence of an inappropriate relationship between me and Aleksi… he made a scene at the Hawkeyes stadium, in front of cameras sure to catch it.
He did it to control me. To keep me isolated. To make sure no one else could have me if he couldn't.
And he's doing it again.
Richard leans forward, his voice sharpened now, no longer measured. "So my client's ex-husband—who cheated on her, drained their joint accounts, and left her in debt—is the sole source of every complaint that's threatened her career. And you didn't find that suspicious?"
Dr. Lowe shifts uncomfortably. Dr. Oswald glances at Dr. Pierce, who frowns but says nothing.
"Furthermore," Richard presses, "Mr. McCoy physically assaulted my client in a public venue days after he filed his complaint.
He was intoxicated, aggressive, and had to be escorted out by security.
Does that sound like a credible witness to you?
Or someone trying to start something to get your attention. "
Dr. Pierce's mouth tightens. "Be that as it may, Mr. Palmer, Dr. Hensen did engage in an intimate relationship with a patient under her care. That is a violation of—"
The doors burst open.
The sound echoes through the room like a gunshot.
Gasps ripple across the board members. Richard twists from where he stands. I freeze, heart hammering, as a figure strides into the room with the kind of quiet, controlled fury that makes the air itself go still.
Aleksi.
He's still in his Hawkeyes warm-up jacket, damp with rain, hair wild, chest heaving like he just ran a marathon. Behind him, Penelope appears in the doorway, phone in hand, expression somewhere between exasperated and triumphant.
"Kendall Hensen," Aleksi says, his voice steady but loud enough to echo off the walls, "is the best doctor this team has ever had."
Dr. Pierce stands, her expression thunderous. "Sir, this is a closed hearing. You have no right to—"
"I don't care," he says, crossing the room in long, purposeful strides.
He stops at the edge of the table, hands braced on the back of the empty chair beside me, eyes locked on the board.
"You're about to take away the license of a woman who saved a man's life midair.
Who sat beside me in a motel room thinking we were dying.
Who's risked everything for her patients and for me. "
His voice cracks slightly on the last word, and something in my chest breaks open.
"She didn't seduce a player," he continues, his gaze sweeping across the board members. "She saved one. Me. She stayed with me that night because she thought it was our last one on earth. That's not misconduct—that's humanity."
Dr. Pierce's mouth opens, closes. She glances at her colleagues, clearly off-balance.
"And you are?" Dr. Lowe asks carefully.
"Aleksi M?kelin. Right winger for the Seattle Hawkeyes." He pauses, his eyes finding mine. "And the father of her child."
A hush falls over the room.
I can't breathe. I can't think. I can only stare at him, at the way he's standing there, soaked and fierce and utterly unafraid, like he'd burn the whole world down to protect me.
"She takes her job seriously," he says quietly, his voice rough now. "She would've never given me a chance if she thought we'd live to see morning. But we did. And she's spent every day since trying to protect me from the fallout. She shouldn't lose everything for that."
Dr. Lowe clears her throat. "Mr. M?kelin, we understand your… passion. But you're not authorized to—"
"Authorized?" he snaps, his voice rising. "You're authorized to destroy a family?"