Ethan knocked on Ava’s door. Without waiting for a permission, he pushed the door open to reveal Ava buried in her work.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Ethan said, his tone clipped as he leaned against Ava’s office doorframe, arms crossed.
Ava didn’t look up from her paperwork. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ethan let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, come on, Ava. Don’t play coy with me. Ever since... that day, you’ve been acting like I have the plague.”
Her pen froze mid-signature, but she didn’t respond.
Ethan pushed off the doorframe, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. “Look at me, Ava.”
“I’m busy, Ethan,” she muttered, still refusing to meet his gaze.
“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice hardening. “You’re avoiding me because I kissed you. Admit it.”
Finally, Ava slammed her pen down and stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. “Fine! Yes, I’ve been avoiding you. Are you happy now?”
Ethan’s jaw clenched. “Why?”
Her eyes darted away, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Because it was a mistake. And I don’t have time for... whatever this is.”
“A mistake?” Ethan’s voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of his frustration. “Is that what you really think?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Ava said, turning her back to him. “We work together. That’s all there is to it.”
He took a step closer, his voice softening. “Ava, look at me.”
“I can’t,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly.
Ethan let out a sharp exhale and stepped back. “Fine. If that’s how you want it.”
Without another word, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
Hours later, the hospital buzzed with its usual chaos, but Ava couldn’t focus.
Her mind replayed their conversation over and over until she felt like screaming. She had just finished checking on a patient when one of the nurses approached her.
“Dr. Clarke’s surgery ran into complications,” the nurse said quietly. “The patient didn’t make it.”
Ava froze. “What? But it was supposed to be a routine procedure.”
The nurse nodded grimly. “It was, but something went wrong. He’s... not taking it well.”
Ava didn’t wait to hear more. Her feet carried her to the stairwell, a gut feeling telling her that was where he’d be.
Pushing open the heavy metal door, she found Ethan sitting on the steps, his head in his hands. His usually composed demeanor was gone, replaced by someone who looked utterly lost.
“Ethan,” she said softly, stepping closer.
He didn’t respond, his shoulders rising and falling with shallow breaths.
“Ethan,” she repeated, this time crouching in front of him. “You’re hyperventilating. You need to slow your breathing.”
“I can’t,” he choked out, his voice strained. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” Ava said firmly, placing a hand on his knee. “Look at me. Breathe with me, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Like this.”
She demonstrated, keeping her eyes locked on his. Slowly, his breathing began to even out, though his eyes were still filled with torment.
“I tried everything,” he whispered after a long moment. “I did everything right, but he still died. How am I supposed to face his family? How do I tell them I failed?”
“You didn’t fail,” Ava said, her voice gentle but steady. “Sometimes things are beyond our control, no matter how hard we try.”
He shook his head, his hands gripping his hair. “You don’t understand. Every time I step into that operating room, I hear this voice in my head telling me I’m not good enough. That I’m going to screw up. And today...” He trailed off, his voice breaking.
Ava’s chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in his words. “Ethan, you’re one of the best surgeons I’ve ever worked with. But you’re human. You’re allowed to make mistakes. And you’re allowed to feel this way.”
He looked up at her, his eyes glassy.
Ava sat beside him, her shoulder brushing against his. “You should take a week off to get over this or perhaps, talk to someone? A professional?”
He let out a bitter laugh. “You think a therapist is going to fix me?”
“No,” she said honestly. “But they can help you understand that you don’t have to carry this weight by yourself. They can give you tools to manage it. And I’ll be here, too. You’re not alone, Ethan.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his expression softening. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because I know what it’s like to doubt yourself,” Ava admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “There was a time when I didn’t think I was good enough to be here, in this hospital, saving lives. I used to second-guess every decision I made, terrified that one wrong move would cost someone everything. But I learned to quiet that voice in my head. And you can, too.”
Ethan looked down at his hands, her words sinking in. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”
“You are,” Ava said firmly. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But strength doesn’t mean never asking for help.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them heavy with unspoken emotions.
“Thank you,” he said finally, his voice hoarse.
Ava smiled softly. “Anytime.”