Becoming Strangers Again by Lily

LILY

I awoke to the sight of several missed calls from Ryan on my phone. I must have been far more exhausted than I realized for me to sleep so soundly and not hear my phone ringing. Stifling a yawn, I glanced over at the clock on my nightstand. My eyes widened in disbelief

when I saw the time. "Damn!" I muttered under my breath.

It was already seven in the morning. How on earth did I manage to sleep through my alarm?

Jumping out of bed, I rushed down the hall toward my kids' room. I needed to make sure they were up and getting ready. Thankfully, their nanny had already woken them, helped them shower, and they were now sitting at the table, eating breakfast.

I exhaled a sigh of relief and ran a hand over my forehead, noticing it felt unusually warm to the touch. Was I coming down with a fever?

"Good morning, ma'am," Jane greeted, her voice bringing me back to the present.

I blinked slowly, trying to focus. "Good morning, Jane," I replied, giving her a tired smile. I walked over to my boys, planting a gentle kiss on each of their heads and wishing them a good morning before retreating back to my room to get ready for work.

While I brushed my teeth, I tried Ryan's number again, but it wouldn't connect. After three attempts, I gave up, letting out a frustrated sigh.

I dropped the phone onto the sink with a soft thud and stepped into the shower, hoping the warm water might wash away the lingering fatigue.

********

By the time I finally made it to the office, I was already running late. Even my secretary looked surprised to see me coming in at this hour. She followed me into my office, her tablet in hand, ready to go over my schedule for the day and the list of surgeries I had lined up. "Are you feeling alright, ma'am?" she asked, her brows knitted together with concern. "You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine," I replied, though I wasn't entirely sure if I believed it myself. I just needed to wait for the medication I'd picked up from the pharmacy to start working. "Do I have to observe another neurosurgery today?"

She shook her head gently. "You don't have to, but it was a special request from the patient's family," she explained, her fingers tapping quickly on her tablet as she pulled up the details. "The patient is a little girl, only five years old, and her parents specifically asked for you to monitor the surgery. They know you're a mother and believe that would make you extra vigilant-they trust you to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"And what happens if I say no?" I asked. In all honesty, I wasn't feeling up to sitting through another long surgery today.

have

words carefully, "but it might not reflect well on the hospital's image

head. "Alright," I sighed, finally nodding in

painkillers in my desk drawer and popped a couple more into my mouth, hoping they'd work fast to dull the relentless pounding in

for five long, exhausting hours. I sat there, watching every move Dr. Amell made, my eyes straining to stay focused. Finally, when he signaled that the procedure was complete, relief

doctors who

the issue further, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned back to his work. I glanced over at the glass partition separating the observatory from the operating room and noticed

office, and as soon as I stepped inside, the first thing I did was grab a blanket from the small closet. Exhausted beyond measure, I collapsed onto the sofa and closed my eyes, hoping for

*****

blue curtains, and it only took a second for me to realize that

really leaves you. In my panic, I tried to sit up abruptly, but a sharp, throbbing pain exploded in my head, forcing me back down onto the bed with a groan. "For a doctor, you're incredibly careless," a familiar voice remarked from

slowly turned my head to the side. Dr. Amell was

of the situation. "Where am I? And what are you doing here?" I demanded,

the surgery," he said calmly. "So, I came to check on you, just to make sure you

office sofa."

trying to muster some moisture to speak. Slowly, I attempted to sit

his, scrutinizing every inch

scoffed, clearly amused.

move an inch

for your vein. You didn't even stir when

his eyes

"Shouldn't you

thanking me?"

needle piercing my vein. "Thank you," I muttered, trying to sound as

welcome,

"Why are you the one looking after an unconscious