Chapter 32 - Mary
Mary
There are thirty-six square ceiling plates between my seat and the double doors.
Thirty-nine if I include the ones straight above me.
The second LED panel has faulty wiring that causes it to flicker slightly, and if I strain my ears, I can even hear it buzz.
The doors to the conference room have been closed for thirteen minutes and twenty-two seconds.
Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Each one feels longer than the one before.
I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth. It feels rough and dry, but there is no way that I am going to stand up to get water now. Cat is right behind that pale wood, probably living the worst moment of her life.
She told me she had been in front of the committee many times before.
It is customary that, when something goes wrong during surgery, it is discussed.
More often than not, it’s used as a teaching case.
If it can save a life in a similar situation, then that is the best possible outcome, she had said.
Facing the committee wasn’t the problem.
A sharp pain alerts me, and I drop my gaze to my hands, where the cuticle of my index finger is stripped so far back that there is blood welling up.
I bring it to my mouth and lift my eyes to the closed doors again.
What is going on in there? Is Cat pacing, or angry, or worse…
crying? I shiver. There is nothing worse than crying in the workplace, especially one like this, where reputation means everything.
“Hola, guapa.”
I yelp when Carmen touches my shoulder and her warm voice reaches my ear. She instantly leans back, a bit startled herself, but she keeps her hand on me. My brain catches up at the sight of her tied-up curls and warm brown eyes carefully scanning my face.
“Carmen,” I breathe, and I wrap my arms around her.
She returns the hug and holds me tightly against her until I break away. Only then does her gaze glide to the closed door.
“How long has she been in there?”
I drop my eyes to my watch. Fourteen minutes and twenty-three seconds. I really hope she isn’t crying.
“About fifteen minutes.”
Carmen nods once. Her eyes drop to my hands, and she frowns before zipping open the little fanny pack on her hip. She rummages through it as her eyes meet mine again.
“Shouldn’t be long now. Cat’s case was scheduled separately.”
“Is that… a bad sign?”
I can’t keep the shiver out of my voice. If they called a special meeting for Cat, doesn’t that mean that they—
“No. They wanted to get this out of the way quickly. Can’t have your head of trauma walking around like a ball of nerves for a month now, can you?”
She chuckles softly and grabs my hand, gently putting it into her lap.
“This will sting a little,” she warns before she presses a wet cotton ball against my nail.
The pain is sharp but brief. I hiss only once, through clenched teeth, but that is more because it shocks me, even though Carmen warned me it would come. It hurts because I knew that Cat was a doctor and wanted to make the right ethical choice.
“Hey,” Carmen says tentatively now, her eyes back on me. “Whatever the outcome is today, she will be fine.”
“You don’t know that, Car. This is her life.”
“Yes, it is. She fought long and hard to get to that position, and when she was appointed, she was the youngest one to date. That doesn’t happen to people who are not completely in.”
My stomach clenches at her words, and I let out an involuntary moan. I ruined her life. Fucking selfish idiot.
“But I’ve known Cat since long before she got there. I’ve seen her battle hardships that would have broken any other person. Her ex, Alex…”
She pauses and stares at me. I feel the air in my chest constrict as I stare back.
“Alex?”
“Sí, that was a bad situation. But Cat knows what to do with those. She just used them as fuel to propel herself in another, even better, direction. She is resilient, guapa.”
Tears sting behind my eyes, pricking my nose, but I nod. Carmen means well, but she just doesn’t get it. This can break Cat. Break us. And I can’t…
I push myself up from the chair for the third time in the past seventeen minutes and fifty-three seconds.
I walk four steps to the right before turning on my heel.
Four steps back. Never going too far, just in case.
I repeat the motion, trying to find something soothing in the rhythm, but the iron band around my chest won’t lift.
“Mary,” Carmen commands softly, and I look up at her.
She opens her mouth to say something when the door swings open.
We both whip our heads toward it, and my stomach twists when Cat steps out.
She looks pale, with dark circles under her haunted eyes.
Her eyes immediately search for mine. She nearly crumples when they find me, and I instinctively reach for her.
She doesn’t hesitate and grabs my hand. I see it is all she can do not to sink into my arms. Not here, not now.
“How did it go?” I ask in a shaky voice, and she raises her shoulders defeatedly.
“They are discussing it now. It wasn’t pretty, Mary. My reputation—”
“Will be fine, hermana,” Carmen interjects.
The two exchange glances that I can’t quite follow, but I assume it’s Cat saying quietly that she can’t possibly know that, and her friend explaining all the reasons why she can.
“Abbott is in there,” Cat finally says with a sigh.
Carmen raises her eyebrows in confusion.
“Daniel Abbott?”
“Yes.”
“Rich boy, a little too slick, Daniel Abbott?”
“Yes.”
“Chair member Daniel Abbott?”
“Jesus Christ. Yes, Carmen, that one.”
Carmen blinks, the same question still flashing on her face as if she can’t quite believe it. And if she does, she doesn’t quite understand it.
“Is that… abnormal?”
My voice comes out small. I am almost afraid to ask, since Cat is already this agitated and on edge. But Carmen’s reaction… If this is something worrisome, I want to know. I need to know.
“It’s not something he usually does,” Cat offers, pinching the bridge of her nose.
My eyes find Carmen, who sees it too, and she gives me a small nod.
“I have to get back, but I will check in with you later. Let me know?”
She looks pleadingly at Cat, who nods. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and her fingers curl a little tighter around my hand, but the nod is decisive.
Of course. It is all her best friend needs, and with that, Carmen marches out of the hallway through the double doors, without as much as glancing back even once.
Her faith is almost palpable, and I wish I could steal some from her.
“What happened in there?”
Cat guides me to the chair and sits me down, her breathing a little faster than usual.
“It was exactly like we expected. They wanted to know how we met, when we started dating, and if there was any possible way I could have groomed you—”
“Groomed me?” I hiss out, instantly bristling at the thought.
Cat lets out a startled chuckle, just one quick burst, but the sound is enough for the outrage to dissipate.
“Well, yes… Mary, that’s why this is such an ethical dilemma. As your treating physician, you are dependent on me, and—”
“I’m not dependent on anyone,” I snap back, and Cat’s eyebrow raises with something akin to amusement.
“I know that, amor. I know you, your spirit, your heart. But they don’t.”
“What will happen next?” I ask, dropping my gaze to the floor.
Her fingers instantly slide under my chin, and she forces me to look at her.
“Mary, I make my own choices, too. This is not your fault, or mine, for that matter. I wouldn’t trade what we have for the world.”
Her gaze pins me down, and I feel a small shudder, as if her fingertips brushed along my spine.
“They might come to a conclusion. They might need more ti—”
“Doctor Durand?”
The same woman from earlier interrupts us, and Cat’s pupils dilate slightly before she turns her head. I can feel her hand tremble in mine, and for a moment, I think I can hear her pulse quicken, before I realize it is my own.
The woman just turns on her heel, dropping back inside without another word.
Cat gazes back at me, and then untangles our fingers.
She rolls her shoulders back, takes a deep breath, and smooths out her blouse.
My heart breaks a little more with each gesture.
Before she steps back in, she looks back at me briefly, and I nod.
I muster all the strength I have to show her my faith in her, which is endless. My faith in the system, however…
The door shuts behind her, and just like that, I’m alone again in the quiet hallway. Something beeps in the distance, and voices echo off the walls, but what happens behind that slab of wood is completely unknown to me. I blink, before I dart toward the nearest trash bin and heave.
The acidic smell lingers in the hallway and heats my cheeks.
I rinsed my mouth and took a mint, but I can hardly get rid of the bin.
Yet, when the door opens again, my eyes dart up, and everything else is forgotten.
A stern-looking ash-blond doctor, exits.
He doesn’t raise his eyes to meet my gaze, but instead seems to be trying very hard to avoid it.
My stomach twists again. What have I done?
Cat doesn’t get out for another five minutes.
I am instantly on my feet, grasping the hem of my shirt to keep my hands from shaking too much.
Her eyes find mine, tired and red-rimmed.
She takes a deep, steadying breath before she moves toward me.
My stomach plummets. What if this is it?
What if she loses her career over me? What if they told her she can only stay if she breaks things off… What would she do? Selfish much?
She reaches for my hands, and I move to interlace my fingers with hers. Her nose crinkles, and a small crease forms between her brows. Cat briefly cocks her head toward the trash can and then toward me, opening her mouth, but I cut her off before she can ask.
“What did they say?”
She closes her eyes and squeezes my hand. When they open again, they are brimming with tears. I hold my breath as my heart slams against my ribs.
“Cat?” My voice comes out way too small.
“They—”
Her voice breaks, but she quickly shakes her head and squares her shoulders. She clears her throat and tries again.
“They won’t refer it to the board.”
I hear the words, but they seem to float in my head like a swarm of bees. Loud and everywhere all at once.
“What does that mean?”
She smiles weakly at that and nudges me to walk with her, away from this room, away from this panic.
“It means they won’t take any further action.”
“But that is a good thing, right?”
Her lips tick up.
“Yes and no. On my record, it would seem like nothing ever happened.”
“But,” I insist after she stays quiet for a beat too long.
“But my reputation—"
People always talk.
You still brought me.
Yes.
My heart shatters.