On Call for Someone Else

Their expressions shifted. They all knew how much they'd benefited from me over the years. Muttering that they "wouldn't stoop to my level," they scattered like spooked birds.

Looking at the suddenly empty department, I pressed a hand to my temple.

Thankfully, once I got through these last few days, I'd finally be gone.

Rita might have treated me like dirt, but I still had a responsibility to my patients and my job. I wanted to see things through properly, from start to finish.

After that, no one in the department dared say anything to my face again. Instead, they just stopped talking to me altogether, clearly trying to ice me out.

I couldn't have cared less.

Before I knew it, the last day of the holiday arrived.

It was also my final day at the hospital.

I had just finished packing my things when a commotion broke out outside the room.

In the hallway, Rita and Julian appeared in matching red-and-blue outdoor jackets. She was gorgeous, he was handsome, and together they drew endless compliments from the crowd.

The two of them looked travel-worn as they handed out little souvenirs to every department.

When they got to me, Julian suddenly said, "Oh no, how could I forget Kevin?"

I wasn't surprised in the least.

Ever since his first day as an intern—when he complained that the nurses were pushing meds too slowly and tried to do it himself, completely unaware that injecting potassium chloride too fast could stop someone's heart—I had considered him totally lacking in medical ethics and common sense. We'd had a huge fight over it.

From that day on, he treated me like his number one enemy. Not only did he encourage everyone to pick sides, he constantly fawned over Rita and stirred up trouble between us.

So now that he had "accidentally" left me out of the gifts, I found it completely predictable.

As usual, Rita didn't catch the hostility behind it. She gently reassured him.

"You didn't do it on purpose."

Trying to smooth things over, the others quickly changed the subject and started joking around.

"Dr. Williams, looks like you and the director had quite the fancy long weekend. You're even wearing matching outfits now. When are you treating us to wedding champagne?"

Julian shot me a sideways glance.

"Soon, soon!"

Smiling faintly, Rita replied, "These jackets are windproof. Essential gear for traveling in the mountains. Don't read into it."

After a few more polite remarks, she and Julian headed upstairs together.

The director's office was on the upper floor. To avoid suspicion, she had never let me up there.

Yet just because Julian once said he wanted to stay closer to her, she had personally cleared out a partitioned space inside her own office for him.

I pulled the divorce agreement I'd printed out long ago from my bag and silently followed them upstairs.

Today was my last day anyway. The perfect chance to finalize the divorce and avoid any messy complications later.

The moment I reached the office door, I looked through the window.

I saw Rita casually helping Julian into his white coat, fastening his name badge for him. Then she rose on her toes and affectionately ruffled his hair.

A sharp pain clenched around my heart before I could stop it.

I raised my hand and knocked.

"Come in."

Rita's voice was cold.

I opened the door and immediately noticed the humidifier in the corner, quietly puffing mist into the air.

Following my gaze, Julian looked smug.

"Rita felt bad because I wash my hands so often, so she got this for me. She even bought me a whole box of hand cream. I heard each tube costs over seventy bucks. It'd be a shame if they expired. Want me to give you one?"

The favored always act fearless.

Clinical surgery required constant scrubbing. I had washed my hands until the skin cracked open. They were always dry and peeling, and every time they touched water, the pain shot straight to the bone.

Once, I'd simply prescribed myself a cheap ointment for my hands—the kind that costs about a dollar.

Rita scolded me for being dramatic.

The difference between being loved and unloved was painfully obvious.

Before I could speak, Rita frowned impatiently.

"Didn't I tell you not to come upstairs? What if people get the wrong idea? What do you want?"

I simply handed her the divorce agreement, already opened to the signature page.

Without even looking up, she pulled the pen from her pocket, signed it, stuffed the papers back into my hands, and said coldly, "Now get out."

I lowered my gaze and turned away.

Then she suddenly realized something was wrong and called after me.

"What did you just make me sign?"

"Divorce papers," I answered calmly.

She sucked in a sharp breath and immediately lunged to snatch them back.

I didn't give her the chance. I raised my arm high above my head, keeping the papers well out of her reach.

"Rita, in one month, we'll get divorced."

A flicker of delight flashed through Julian's eyes. Deliberately, he stepped in front of Rita, blocking her from grabbing the agreement.

But his tone was full of fake concern.

"Kevin, are you really making a scene about divorce in front of me just because Rita and I wore matching jackets and everyone teased us? If you like it that much, I'll give you mine."