The Surgeon's Perfect Match

by Alison Roberts

  Nothing had been sorted. The anger that had been with her ever since that conversation with Sue that afternoon was still there. It only needed a tiny stir to spring back into life and, as a self-protection device, it was superb. This wasn’t the end of the world by any means. Holly didn’t need a pseudo-parent in her life—however attractive he was.

  Holly could look after herself. The way she always had done.

  ‘I guess I’ll pack my things, then.’

  Ryan nodded without looking at her. ‘I’ll go back next door for a while. Pop hasn’t had a game of chess this week.’

  ‘Fine.’ Holly’s voice was tight. She had offered Ryan all the love she had and it wasn’t good enough, was it? She watched him head back towards the front door.

  ‘I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He didn’t look back. ‘I guess you will.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ANGER continued to bubble.

  A poisonous brew, like a hot mud pool where bubbles rose endlessly and every so often broke to send droplets that splashed and burned painfully. It had been unfair to direct so much of that anger towards Holly. Ryan knew perfectly well that most of it should have been directed at himself.

  The fear had always been there, hadn’t it? That he was buying Holly’s love by offering her such a valuable gift. He’d been patient for so long, too. Why had it all fallen apart so quickly?

  Why couldn’t he have resisted the urge to draw Holly closer so fast? To invite her into his home and his private life? And worse—to spirit her away for that romantic, tropical island holiday. He shouldn’t have taken advantage of the closeness they inevitably achieved by sharing the experience of the kidney transplant.

  At the time, the urge to protect and care for Holly had been irresistible, but that had been at least partly due to the weakening effect of his own surgery. Was that why Holly hadn’t objected? Why she had seemed to welcome his attentiveness?

  If he’d been thinking straight, he could have seen it had been totally the wrong timing. He should have left Holly alone to recover and regain her health and independence. He might have intended his gift to be made with no strings, but it had been he who had created them, hadn’t he? Not Holly.

  There was no going back now. He’d destroyed what they did have by acknowledging his fear. He’d tried to bury the fear with anger and he had hurt Holly. Possibly irreparably. She had every right to be angry. But wasn’t it better for this to happen now than before they became even more deeply involved with each other?

  Neither of them could ever know whether Holly would have fallen in love with him if he hadn’t given her that kidney. The debt of gratitude would always colour their relationship and Ryan would always wonder if that had been the only reason Holly had chosen to be with him.

  He couldn’t live like that. Not knowing. A marriage with that kind of insecurity could never be good enough for either of them. But he didn’t want to live without Holly in his life.

  It was tearing him apart.

  Having to work so closely with Holly wasn’t going to make things any easier. Ryan glanced towards the silent figure beside him, scrubbing her hands meticulously in preparation for the surgery to correct Hannah’s coarctation of the aorta. Holly was staring at the lather she was creating with the scrubbing brush.

  If she turned sideways enough to catch his glance, maybe he would see something in her eyes that would provide a light at the end of the miserable tunnel he had plunged into last night.

  A pinprick would be enough. A sign that Holly would welcome a chance to talk. A way to open the door that had somehow slammed shut between them last night and, if nothing else, a way back to the time before the transplant when working together and sharing a love for their jobs had been a joy in itself. Maybe then they could find a way to start again.

  But Holly stood on the foot control to release a stream of water to rinse her hands.

  She didn’t turn her head.

  For the moment, anyway, that door appeared to be locked and Ryan had no idea whether a key for that lock even existed. Or whether he should start looking for it until they’d both had some time to think.

  He was still angry.

  Holly hadn’t dared turn to meet the stare she knew Ryan had directed at her while they’d scrubbed up. She hadn’t been able to bear to see the accusation that she loved him for the wrong reasons and that those reasons were not enough to build a future on.

  Why did it matter so much? Did Ryan think that if the kidney failed a few years down the track, she would instantly stop loving him? What mattered was that she did love him and that should be enough, regardless of the catalyst.

  Then again, what if his attitude was justified? It was what that unrecognised worry had been based on, wasn’t it? The fact that Ryan had given her the kidney and had that vested interest in its welfare gave him power that had the potential to come across as being controlling. Holly couldn’t live with someone else deciding how she would live her life.

  Little things like taking pills or how much exercise or study she did.

  But big things, too, like whether or not she had her own child.

  And no matter how strongly Holly felt about issues like that, in the end she would always have to compromise according to Ryan’s preference because the unspoken would always be there.

  She owed him.

  Big time.

  A debt that could never be repaid except by loving him and trying to ensure his happiness. And if Ryan’s happiness had to come at the expense of her own, then the partnership could never be equal and resentments would build and be waiting to explode. They would spend their lives together stepping through a minefield.

  No wonder Ryan thought it wasn’t good enough.

  It wasn’t.

  Despite her utter misery at the thought of trying to live without Ryan in the personal part of her life, Holly was aware of a curious relief in having the issue out in the open. The biggest mine had been detonated already. All that remained to be seen was whether enough of those fragments could somehow be put back together again to make a whole.

  If, somehow, a way could be found past what seemed an impenetrable barrier.

  The surgery on Hannah marked a new and rather unwelcome form of professional interaction. Maybe others didn’t notice any difference because Holly and Ryan had been very careful to keep their personal lives private. Everybody knew about the kidney transplant, of course, but Sue was the only one who knew what had developed between them since.

  Ryan sounded just the same, appreciative of everybody’s input, cheerful and eager to share his knowledge and teach others as he worked, but Holly could feel the wall between them. He seemed so distant. The connection was broken.

  ‘Here’s where the area of coarctation is,’ Ryan pointed out, as he carefully dissected the vessel free from surrounding tissue. ‘There’s the left subclavian artery and we’re going up the arch. I’m going to tie off the ductus and artery branches and then ligate the ductus. Can you see what I’m doing, Holly?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Put a clamp across the aortic arch between the left carotid artery and the left subclavian artery.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Yes. Good.’

  Even Ryan’s praise seemed distant. So professional. Aimed at the action, not the person.

  Holly clamped off the vessel at the top and then at the position Ryan had requested, below the abnormality. She watched in fascination as he cut into the vessel, exposing the defect and cutting it out. Then the repair work began.

  ‘Do you know why I’m using polydioxanone sutures, Holly?’

  ‘They’ve been shown to provide a secure suture line and allow for growth.’

  ‘Absolutely right. Go straight to the top of the class, Dr Williams.’

  An appreciative chuckle could be heard from other members of the theatre staff but the quick glance Holly risked revealed none of those crinkles at the corners of Ryan’s eyes. He wasn’t
smiling.

  The warmth had gone.

  It broke Holly’s heart to see it appear for others. The smile and reassuring hand clasp for Hannah’s parents after the surgery had been completed. The easy banter with colleagues as a group from Theatre headed to the cafeteria for lunch.

  ‘So how‘s the training going, Ryan?’

  ‘Not bad.’

  ‘Are you going to let someone else win this year?’

  ‘Can’t afford to. My drug company sponsorship will double if I cross the finish line first out of the St Margaret‘s contingent.’

  ‘So will mine,’ the anaesthetist, James, confessed. ‘Guess I’ll have to hope you trip over your tail.’

  ‘Tail?’ Someone was laughing.

  ‘He’s going as a lion. Cardiology’s got a wild animal theme going.’

  ‘Always knew you lot were wild.’

  With the date for the fun run getting closer, it was only natural that it was such a popular topic of conversation but the reminder of what had sparked the separation from Ryan was too much for Holly. She dropped back from the group, deciding to go elsewhere for her lunch.

  Doing a U-turn, Holly headed for the automatic vending machine that contained sandwiches, fruit and drinks. Poking coins into the slot, her attention was caught by the huge new poster on the wall. The blood bank was clearly desperate for donors. A ‘Please Spare a Drop’ campaign had been started and the huge red drip shape of the poster was certainly eye-catching.

  Ryan had always been a regular blood donor but had he responded to the current campaign? The thought made Holly wince. He couldn’t afford to give blood until he was completely recovered from his surgery. Not that she would tell him that, of course. Well, she might have suggested it if they had still been talking to each other, but she certainly wouldn’t go to the blood bank and tell them he hadn’t thought it through and they’d better not take any of his blood if he did offer. Wasn’t that the equivalent of what he’d done regarding the fun run register? Holly would have more respect for Ryan making his own choices than that.

  Her own choice in this matter was an easy one. One of these days she might be able to make a valuable contribution thanks to her blood type. But not yet. She didn’t need Ryan, or anyone else, telling her that giving blood would be no more sensible than getting pregnant could be until her body had adjusted to its new state of health.

  A few months of looking after herself might make things very different. A good diet. Plenty of rest. An exercise programme. Holly eyed the healthy salad roll and apple she had purchased from the machine but didn’t feel hungry. She could do with putting her feet up for a rest, thanks to having had so little sleep last night, but that seemed like a defeatist way to spend her lunch-break.

  She might feel as flat as a pancake but the notion of rolling over and admitting defeat was anathema. Maybe exercise was the answer. It was becoming a front-line treatment for depression, wasn’t it? There didn’t seem much point in pushing herself to join the run any more but it would be pathetic to give up a fitness programme. Especially having forked out what had been a rather expensive membership at the gym.

  The decision was easy to make. Holly moved swiftly to her locker, where she abandoned her lunch for the moment and collected a bag that contained her old T-shirt, shorts and a pair of trainers.

  ‘I’ll just do some weights today,’ she told Janine when she got to the gym. ‘I haven’t got much time and I don’t really feel like running.’

  The effort of getting there had been worthwhile. The small glow of satisfaction was enough to lift her spirits. Time with the children on a ward round that afternoon helped as well, probably because Ryan had been called away to assist the other cardiac surgical team with a major operation. The positive effect dissipated rapidly, however, when Holly arrived home at her apartment that evening.

  The rooms still felt cold and empty and had that odd smell of a house that hadn’t been lived in for some time. And the plants were all dead. Holly hadn’t noticed that when she had returned in the dark the previous evening. She’d had other things on her mind, anyway. But now the contents of the pots couldn’t be ignored. They seemed symbolic. Accusatory. The few leaves still clinging to twigs were as wilted as Holly’s emotional well-being.

  Perhaps tomorrow would be better. Being Saturday, it would be more relaxed with no Theatre session and only a ward round before she had the rest of the weekend off. They were not on call. Ryan might not be so angry. He might even apologise and Holly could let go of her own anger at what seemed blatantly unfair treatment. They could talk to each other and try and find a way to repair the damage inflicted.

  But the next day was a rerun of the day before in the polite professional stakes and that irked Holly. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t dismissed Ryan’s feelings for her as being in any way unworthy, had she? It had been Ryan who had decided that what she had to offer wasn’t good enough so it was up to him to make the first move and apologise. If he actually wanted to put things right, surely that’s what he would do?

  The minefield was still there.

  ‘Morning, Holly,’ Ryan had said at the start of that day. ‘How are you?’

  The tightness of the accompanying smile had advertised all those mines. How was she feeling? Had she taken her pills? How was that kidney behaving?

  ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Holly had answered. And her smile had been just as tight as his.

  Thank goodness for the time off. Holly headed for the gym before she went home and this time she found herself eyeing the treadmill as she used other weight machines.

  ‘May as well give it a go,’ she muttered. The reduction of her anti-rejection medication was still having positive effects. Physically, at least, Holly was feeling good.

  Managing nearly five minutes of a gentle jog was a boost. And Holly still had enough energy to stop her sitting around with too much time to think when she got home. She cleaned her apartment. She went to the supermarket to stock up on groceries. She did her laundry and planned how to use her Sunday.

  Another visit to the gym was first on the list. Then a shopping trip to a garden store to purchase some new plants and fresh potting mix. And a visit with Sue was well overdue. Holly needed her friend right now. She was missing Ryan. And Jack. If she stopped being busy for more than a few minutes, the lonely sensation just pulled her down.

  Sue’s tiny house was in a leafy suburb in one of the older parts of Auckland. With her husband and three children sharing the cottage, it was crowded and noisy and so homely it made Holly’s heart ache to see so clearly what was missing from her own life.

  Cake baking had been in progress and the children all had chocolate smears around their mouths and sticky fingers clutching spoons as they wrangled over licking the mixing bowl clean.

  ‘Right. That’s enough.’ Sue swooped on the bowl and slid it into the hot water filling the sink. ‘Outside, you lot. You can all go and help Dad weed the veggie garden.’

  ‘But we’re helping with the cake!’

  ‘Yeah.’ Lucy, the eldest took over as spokesperson. ‘We have to make the icing now.’

  ‘The cake’s got to finish cooking first,’ Sue said firmly, ‘and then cool down. Then we can make icing. Right now, Holly and I are going to have a coffee and some grown-up time. If any of you set foot in this kitchen before the timer on the oven goes off, you won’t get to eat a crumb of it.’

  Mutinous mutterings emanated from the children as they headed for the back door.

  ‘And put your gumboots on,’ Sue called after them. ‘It’s muddy out there.’ She grinned at Holly. ‘What’s the bet I have six mud-caked shoes to clean before I go to work tomorrow?’

  ‘Want me to check whether they’re putting them on?’

  ‘Nah.’ Sue flopped into a chair at the kitchen table. ‘I want you to talk. You look miserable.’ Her smile was sympathetic. ‘This is about Ryan, isn’t it?’

  Holly nodded sadly.

  ‘So he hasn’t apo
logised?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Has he tried to talk to you at all?’

  ‘Only about work stuff.’

  ‘Have you tried to talk to him?’

  Holly shook her head again. ‘The right opportunity never seems to come up and I have to say I haven’t gone looking for one. I can’t exactly go and grovel and ask him to take me back, can I?’

  ‘Of course not. He’ll see sense, Holly. Just give him a bit of time.’

  ‘That’s what I keep telling myself. And that’s another reason I can’t make the first move. If he does love me enough to want to marry me, he’ll do something to sort things out. And if he doesn’t love me that much, it wouldn’t be much of a marriage, would it?’ Holly’s gaze drifted to the window where she could see the children hopping in a freshly turned patch of soil—no gumboots in sight.

  ‘Things will work out.’ Sue smiled at Holly confidently as she got up to pour the coffee. ‘The problem is that you’re both surgeons. You both want to make the decisions regarding someone’s care and there’s a little switch in your heads that won’t allow you to relinquish control.’

  ‘You’re saying I’m the control freak?’

  ‘As far as your own health goes, yes. I’ve never seen anyone so determined and in control. How are you feeling, by the way?’

  ‘Fabulous,’ Holly said dryly. ‘Physically I’ve never felt better in my life. I ran for eight minutes at the gym today.’

  ‘Wow!’ Sue set down the mugs of coffee. ‘You’ll be able to do the run with us after all, then. I never did take your name off the register.’

  ‘Ha!’ Holly rolled her eyes. ‘That’d go down well, wouldn’t it? Ryan would never speak to me again.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s what started this whole fight.’

  ‘Remind me why you were so mad about it?’

  ‘Because Ryan tried to stop me doing it.’

  ‘And you didn’t want to be stopped, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘So why are you letting him stop you now?’

  Why indeed?

  Holly was still replaying the conversation with Sue in her head as she drove home. If she didn’t attempt the run and she and Ryan did end up sorting things out, wouldn’t she always wonder if that sorting out had been successful because she’d given in and done what Ryan had wanted? How would that help anything?