Dear Ex Wife Please take me back by The Every Woman

Chapter 83 ~ Am I in trouble?

ATHENA

I manage a nod, ice creeping into my veins. "Such wonderful news!"

"I'm glad you think so too," she says brightly, before stepping past me. "I look forward to working with you. I'll teach you so much!"

Is it illegal to smack someone's head?

It would be great if it wasn't!

Her entourage follows her like moths to a flame, leaving behind a cold draft of resentment.

"I don't get how people like her end up in delicate places like these!" A voice sounding extremely annoyed reaches my ears, and I turn to find a beautiful redhead. With her arms crossed.

Her coat isn't white like the others, but navy trimmed with gold...

Wait!

That's a senior attending coat!

The badge on her chest reads: Dr. Isabelle Whitmore, Trauma Surgery Lead, Quinns Institute Exchange Program.

And beneath it, stitched into the fabric in silver thread: Chief Surgical Consultant, Level V Trauma.

I blink.

Not knowing what to say.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"Athena. Athena Dawson."

She looks at me before nodding,

"I assume you're the famous Athena Dawson, the second-year who apparently sent a dying man back from the brink using some very unorthodox methods?"

"News surely travels fast," I respond cautiously, shaking her hand.

“Well,” she smiles "thank God for rebels. Protocols are great until they kill someone."

My lips twitch. I like her already.

She turns to watch Leah's group disappear down the hall.

"Leah Woods," Isabelle mutters under her breath like the name tastes sour. "Still climbing ladders she didn't build, I see.”

"You know her?" I ask, surprised.

ago," she shocks me

white coats like crowns instead of tools." She glances at me again, her expression softening. "Don't worry. If she tries anything, you come

chest loosens, and I feel

rotation?" I ask, trying not to

you ever clicked with someone

to extend. Apparently,

worth mentoring." She tilts her head, assessing me. "Think you'll live up to the

settles in my

"Me?"

She laughs.

with a shake of her

shoulder before walking away, her steps confident and her presence lingering like

about to turn and leave, too, when a voice slices through the

"Dr. Dawson."

My breath catches.

a few feet away is a man who somehow looks better every time

Dr. Iann Quinn.

keeps running his fingers through it out of frustration

only

buried in the pocket

frame just right, his name embroidered in neat, gold stitching across his

easy, effortless, and dangerous reveals perfect white teeth and a

Rich.

Brilliant.

Devastatingly attractive.

My heart skips.

Okay, skips twice.

he notices, he doesn't comment. Just smiles like

a

he

Shit.

Don't get me wrong,

like him

puts that

rude not to

look. Pure appreciation.

1 else.

Dawson," he repeats, this

I manage, clearing my throat and forcing my face

resembling professional composure.

pivots without

Wait.

hospital is at the bottom of the food chain. So, why is