You Loved Me Once

by Corinne Michaels

  My heart races, and I raise my hand. “Allison is my patient. If you’re worried that whatever we were will affect how I treat her, you don’t have to. I care about her, and I’m going to do everything in my power. This is a routine surgery, okay? You begged me to stay on as her doctor because I’m good at what I do. Now I need to go do it.”

  He looks at me with a tinge of hope and his lips form a thin line. “Thank you, Serenity. I mean that.”

  Despite everything, I do care about him. I can imagine this is every fear he can imagine coming to life. His ex-girlfriend, operating on his wife after a huge blow-up. However, I’m not his ex-girlfriend right now, I’m Allison’s doctor.

  “Go get some coffee, I’ll be back in a bit to update you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, I’m doing my job.”

  I head into the operating room, where Allison is prepped. My mind is moving at light speed, preparing for every possibility and creating an attack plan. Once I’m scrubbed up, I go in to talk to her one more time.

  “You doing okay? Any questions?” I ask.

  “Can I?” She stops. “Can I talk to you for just a minute? Alone?”

  “Now?”

  She nods.

  “Okay.”

  My stomach drops a little, but I can’t say no. I look around the room and jerk my head to the side. Everyone leaves, and her green eyes start to leak. She’s terrified, and I need to calm her down.

  I pull my mask down. “I know you’re scared, but I promise I’m going to take care of you.”

  “I need to tell you that I know who you are, Serenity,” Allison confesses. “I know that you were once engaged to Bryce.”

  Oh, God. I can’t hide my surprise and I gasp. If she knows, why the hell is she here? Is it just to meet me? Why does it matter, though?

  I quickly try to explain, “I don’t know what to say. I swear there’s nothing between us.”

  “I found out about you four years ago by accident. I heard his family saying some things about letting go of you, and I got curious. There was this sadistic part of me that needed to see who you were, so I started digging. It wasn’t malicious, I just had to know if he ever truly loved me.”

  “He does,” I tell her.

  “I know that now. The first few days you two saw each other, I was worried, but when I got to know you, I saw that I was being silly. I realize that what you two shared is different, no less beautiful, but just different. You both let each other go to save the other.”

  “Why are you telling me this now?” I ask.

  She smiles softly. “Because I need you to promise me that if something happens,” she starts, but I cut her off.

  “Don’t say the next words, Allison. Please don’t put that out in the universe.”

  Her lips close, but her eyes tell me the rest. For just a moment, the doctor/patient relationship is gone. Allison is just a woman, and so am I. She’s pleading for me to care for something she loves. She needs this peace of mind in order to get through the surgery.

  I don’t reply verbally, she doesn’t need to hear it.

  “Thank you,” she says and turns her head to the side.

  I call everyone back in, and go scrub up again, all the while thinking of the way she begged me with her eyes.

  When I get back in the room, everyone is ready and I get in position. “Okay, Allison, we’re going to put you to sleep now,” I say.

  “Okay,” she replies with a tear falling down her cheek.

  The anesthesia gets turned on, but her eyes are locked on mine. “Until my last breath,” she says and then drifts off to sleep.

  I take a few seconds, trying to forget the words that make my chest tight. With my eyes closed, I inhale, thinking of the strategic moves I need to make surgically. If I can focus, then it won’t feel like the scalpel opened me up.

  Two more deep breaths and I’m done being Serenity and back into my doctor persona. All my emotions are shut down, and I no longer care about anything but surgery.

  “Ready, Dr. Adams?” Martina asks.

  “Yes. Scalpel,” I say with my hand out.

  It’s been an hour, and so far, the surgery has gone flawlessly. I found the bleed easily and was able to stop it, along with getting a good look at her tumor. Scans are one thing, but when you’re actually in there, it can be a whole other world. Things are never as they seem, but thankfully, it’s nothing that will hinder her progress. The music is playing in the operating room, and I’m in the zone.

  Everything looks good. “Okay, let’s close her up,” I instruct my staff.

  I move one of her organs, to ensure the bleed is in fact stopped, which it has. We begin to close her, when suddenly the alarms fill the room.

  “Pressure is dropping. She’s crashing.”

  My body’s natural fight or flight instinct kicks in, but I can’t allow it. Her heart rate is plummeting. “Push some epi,” I instruct. “Start compressions.”

  Fear tries to take over. My muscles are tense as Allison’s line continues to stay flat. I need to fix this. I need to stay calm, but my heart is racing, knowing that time isn’t on my side.

  I move everything back, and the nurse starts CPR so I can close her up. I work quickly, knowing that every second counts. Once I’m done, the people in the room can almost read my mind. They gather the equipment we need to get her heart pumping again. I’m losing her.

  I grab the crash cart. “Charge to three-sixty. Clear!” I yell and everyone steps back.

  The shock jolts through her, and I watch the screen.

  Please come back, please come back. Come on, Allison. Wake up.

  Nothing. Her heart is still not responding.

  You’re not going anywhere. Not on my watch. I won’t tell your husband you died.

  “Charge again,” I command.

  Pure determination is all I’m running on. Allison will not die today. I told Bryce it was routine and I can’t face him. She was healthy, this is just a tougher case. I’ve handled tough before, goddammit.

  The machine alerts me that it’s ready. “Clear!” I yell and the room stills. The paddles touch her chest, electricity flowing to her heart and her chest lifts.

  Again, my eyes move to the monitor. “Come on, Allison,” I mumble.

  “Dr. Adams,” Martina says. “It’s been three minutes.”

  Irrelevant to me right now. She can survive this. I know it, she just has to want it. “Allison, you need to fight,” I tell her. “You have to fight for your husband and family. Fight, dammit.”

  My own heart is pounding so hard that I worry it’s going to leave my chest. I watch the monitor, thinking of any idea I haven’t tried. A rush of nerves floods me, and I watch the flat line dance across the screen.

  If I don’t want her to give up, I can’t either.

  “Ren, you need to call it.” Martina touches my arm, but I fling it off.

  No.

  “Push another round of epi. Someone page Dr. Grant and get cardio in here,” I order one of the nurses. I don’t know why she’s not responding, it could be anything. “Charge it again,” I say, desperate to get her back.

  My breathing is erratic as I press the panels to her chest again. “Clear!”

  Allison’s body jerks, and I close my eyes as the beep continues to echo in the room. The last shred of hope I had is gone. A tear forms as I wait for God or someone to intervene. I need a miracle.

  “Dr. Adams?” Westin’s voice penetrates through the eerie silence in the room.

  Our eyes meet, and then I look back to Allison.

  “Push another round!” I command.

  “We’ve given her the max,” the anesthesiologist says.

  “I don’t care!”

  How could this happen? The surgery went great, she was perfectly okay and then everything went crazy. I stand here, staring at her lifeless body, and I know people are talking around me, but I don’t hear them. Allison is dead. She’s really dead.

&nbs
p; How?

  No.

  I can’t think. This isn’t real. I didn’t just kill her, right?

  She was . . . she was fine.

  I shake my head, trying to make this scene disappear.

  “Serenity,” Westin’s voice breaks my fog. “You need to call it. She can’t have any more drugs. She’s been gone for too long now.”

  “No,” I say. “No, try again!”

  He grips my shoulders, stopping me from getting to her.

  Westin looks over my shoulder and sighs. “Time of death. Seventeen twenty-two.”

  I push the air in and out of my lungs, but they’re burning. Tears fill my eyes and I can’t see. She’s gone. That sweet, caring woman who I promised would be okay, isn’t. She died on my table while I was singing along to some pop song. My heart is beating and hers isn’t.

  These are facts.

  My eyes meet Westin’s and I start to panic. I can’t breathe. I open my mouth, but no sound will come out.

  He pulls me from the room as I begin to break down. “Easy, easy,” he tries to calm me.

  “I don’t know what happened.” I shake against his body and a sob breaks out. “I don’t understand.”

  Westin’s hands cup my face and he watches me. “You have to calm down. Explain it to me.”

  I go over the surgery to him, clarifying the details, and revealing how quickly everything happened. He listens without interrupting me, and nods along. There was nothing that occurred that was out of the ordinary. Each step was handled, until her heart just . . . failed. After that, no matter what I tried, nothing brought her back.

  “From what you explained, it wasn’t anything you could’ve done,” he tries to comfort me, but I push back.

  “I was her doctor! She was fine!”

  “Serenity,” he touches my cheek, but I flinch. “She was bleeding, you stopped it, but there was something else that caused her heart to fail. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You don’t know that!” I scream at him. “It could’ve been anything. What if the medication reacted with her heart?”

  Westin moves toward me, but I lift my hand to stop him. “Then that will all come to light, but you couldn’t control that. You know as well as I do that her body was already under an extreme amount of stress.”

  I shake my head as he speaks. He doesn’t get it, there’s so much more to this. “None of that matters, Westin. I did this to her. I did this!”

  “Stop!” Westin steps closer. “Stop it, you did your best to save her.”

  That doesn’t matter. She’s dead and I have to tell him.

  “Well, I guess my best just wasn’t good enough. If it was my best, then I need to rethink my life because I suck.”

  I glance through the window at her still form, remembering the words she uttered as she went to sleep.

  A single tear rolls down my cheek as my heart splinters into a million pieces.

  She loved him, and now I have to break him—again.

  Chapter 26

  The walk to the waiting room feels like trying to escape quicksand. Each step I sink deeper into the abyss. Westin walks beside me, and I don’t try to stop him, even knowing that whatever Bryce might say could be the end.

  I don’t even care about me anymore. Let everyone find out, and I’ll go down in flames because I fucked it all up. I destroyed everything, and I killed my patient. A healthy, wonderful woman who did nothing wrong.

  Westin touches my shoulder, stopping me.

  I look up at him, devoid of any emotion. I feel too much and I can’t possibly prepare for what will happen next.

  “Can you do this?” he asks.

  “She was my patient,” I say. “I have to be the one to tell her husband.”

  “I can tell him,” Westin offers.

  “No, I was her surgeon, her doctor, and he deserves to hear it from me.”

  Westin shakes his head. “You can barely speak. You’re in no state to do this.”

  I’m never in a good place to deliver news like this. No one wants to be the bearer of bad news, but I think of how brave Allison was. She trusted me without reservation. She knew who I was to her husband at one time, and still allowed me to be a part of her medical care. I don’t know that I’ve ever met anyone stronger than her. Now I need to be strong too. I have to waltz through those doors and tell him the truth.

  “Then maybe I shouldn’t have killed my patient,” I scoff.

  “Fucking hell, Ren. Don’t say shit like that,” he grips my arms. “You didn’t kill her. She could’ve had a heart attack or a stroke. You fixed her bleed, you tried everything you could to save her. There is no evidence that any of this is your fault. Do not walk in that room and say something like that, you know better.”

  There are no assurances when we operate, I know this, but it doesn’t make the reality any easier to handle. I know he’s worried about a lawsuit, but I’m not. I’m worried about destroying Bryce’s life.

  “Can we please stop?” I ask.

  Westin runs his hands down his face and nods. “Fine, I’ll be here with you the entire time.”

  I’m grateful he is. Westin is holding me up because I’m crumbling, but it’s nothing compared to the break I’m about to cause.

  When we get to the door, I take a deep breath, and push through. If I pause, I’ll never walk forward because there’s never a right time to tell a family you lost their loved one.

  Bryce gets to his feet as soon as he sees me. I pull my cap off and move toward him. His gaze moves to Westin, back to me, and I watch the hope and happiness drain from his face.

  I stand in front of him, and I can’t speak. Words fail me as I see him start to break. My chest grows tight and my limbs become ice cold. I have to say something, I know I do, but there’s nothing to say to help him. Bryce shakes his head as tears start to form, and he looks to me to stop them, but I can’t. He knows, and instead of me saying the words, I just freeze.

  “Mr. Peyton,” Westin starts. “There was a complication during the surgery . . .”

  “No, no, no,” Bryce chants and then sinks to the ground. “Please, no.”

  The look in his eyes tears me in two. He’s desperate for me to refute the words Westin spoke.

  “Every effort was made,” Westin says, but Bryce’s cry stops him.

  “No! Not her! God, no.”

  The agony in his voice breaks me in two. “Her heart,” I croak. “I was able to stop the bleed, but as we were finishing,” my voice is filled with remorse, and I pray he hears it. “When we . . . she suffered what we believe was a heart attack. I’m so sorry.”

  “No,” he says again. “Ren, tell me this isn’t true. Please. Please tell me she’s okay.”

  I squat, wishing more than anything it was a lie. My lip trembles and I hold onto the very last shred of strength I have, knowing that if I break down, I won’t get back up. “I wish I could. I’m sorry. I tried everything. I wouldn’t give up, but I couldn’t bring her back. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Mr. Peyton.” Westin crouches down and helps him into the chair. “We’re very sorry for your loss.”

  We both flank him in the chairs as he starts to cry.

  “Is there anyone we can call?” Westin asks.

  He shakes his head, wipes his nose, and gets to his feet. “No, I think you’ve done enough.”

  Both Wes and I stand as Bryce marches out the door without another word.

  I’ve broken him.

  Westin places his hand on my back and guides me back to the locker room. I sit on the bench, staring at the floor, wondering how my day went so out of control. Another part of me worries what will happen now.

  The idea of my career being over was sort of a possibility, but now it’s not so abstract. There will be an autopsy, I’ll go before the board, and there’s the possibility of a lawsuit.

  Fuck.

  I’m completely screwed. If they look into this, they’ll find the switch. How could I be so stupid?


  Another tear falls and I turn my head to hide it.

  “You should go get cleaned up and go home,” Westin says after a few seconds pass.

  “No,” I refute.

  “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to go home, don’t talk to anyone, and I’ll be there when I can.”

  I look up at Westin and there’s an edge to his words that cause a shiver to run up my spine. “Wes?”

  “Listen to me on this,” he says as he sits beside me. “You’re a mess and you can’t see patients, but you also need to get your head straight before you talk to anyone, understand?”

  Always protecting me.

  “I need to follow protocol,” I sigh.

  “No, you need to do as I say.” Westin touches my knee.

  I glance at him through wet eyelashes. “How do I get through this?”

  He pulls me into his arms, kisses the top of my head, and squeezes. “With time, you’ll see that you didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes people die and sometimes we can prevent it, but you tried. I’ll come to your place later, okay? I need to check in on another patient before I can leave.”

  It feels like I’m crying, but there are no tears, just shame. I can sit here and let people see me fall apart or I can go home and hate myself there. I need to listen to Westin. When his trial went to hell, it was the whispers of the staff that were the worst. People gossiping about the doctor who’d lost his mind. I don’t need that. He’s right to force me to leave.

  “Okay,” I finally agree.

  Westin helps me get ready like a father dressing a child. He holds my coat out, pushing my arms through the holes, and then zips it closed.

  His lips part as though he’s going to say something, but whatever he sees in my eyes stops him.

  He holds my hand as we walk through the halls toward the hospital entrance. Just a few hours ago, I stood in this same spot, ready to be epic. I wasn’t epic, though. Unless you count epic failure.

  “I’ll see you soon?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he kisses my lips and then walks away.

  The warmth I was feeling is gone and dread fills me. Does he think I’m a failure too? Or worse?