“I don’t care about your divorce, Dr. Hayes,” the CEO said coldly. “I care that our institution is being used as a shield to justify personal neglect. If the medical community believes we force our staff to abandon dying family members to maintain project metrics, that ceases to be a private matter.”
Marcus’s candidacy for Associate Chief of Surgery was immediately suspended while an internal review examined departmental culture and protocol compliance.
Three nights later, there was a knock at my apartment door.
I looked at the security camera.
It was Marcus.
The pristine, seemingly invincible surgeon was gone. His tie hung loose, his hair was disheveled, and dark circles surrounded his eyes.
I opened the door but remained firmly in the doorway. “Why are you here, Marcus?”
“Please, Clara,” he rasped out. “Can I come in?”
I stepped aside and allowed him into the living room.
“I made a mistake,” Marcus stammered, stepping toward me. “The board suspended my nomination. Everyone at the hospital is talking. I know I failed you. I know I was an idiot. Just give me one more chance. I’ll change.”
I stared at him silently.
I had waited years to hear those words. I would have welcomed them six years earlier after the miscarriage. I would have welcomed them during the first week of my hospitalization. I might even have accepted them on day twenty, when his quarantine ended.
But he was only saying those words now because his promotion had disappeared.
“Answer me honestly,” I said softly. “If your nomination were still on track, if no one had read that article, and if your colleagues were still treating you like a hero, would you be standing in my living room right now?”
Marcus opened his mouth.
No sound came out.
“That’s what I thought,” I said.
He lowered himself onto the edge of the sofa and buried his face in his hands. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You lost me the moment you decided five floors was too far to travel for your wife.”
I retrieved the completed divorce agreement from my desk and placed it beside him with a pen.
