On Call for Someone Else

Rita finally snapped out of it and let out a mocking laugh.

"Kevin, just because someone made a joke, you want a divorce?

"I was actually thinking that since you'd behaved yourself these past few days, I'd take you out somewhere in a couple of days. But you've really let me down.

"Wasn't everything perfectly fine over the holiday?"

Perfectly fine?

Back when I worked in the ER, distraught family members would often grab my collar, sobbing and demanding:

"They were perfectly fine before coming to the hospital! How did something happen the minute they got here?!"

But if they were truly "perfectly fine," why would they come to the hospital in the first place?

The warning signs had always been there.

It's just a fever. Nothing serious.

Just a little cough. Nothing serious.

My marriage with Rita had been exactly the same.

She said it was just dinner with Julian because he was new to the hospital.

Just checking on him because the power had gone out at his apartment.

Just giving him special treatment during his internship and teaching him personally.

Just spending the long weekend traveling with him and standing me up after I'd begged so long for that trip.

Back then, I was buried under endless hospital work and lied to myself that our stable life was still intact.

I didn't want to doubt her. I didn't want to doubt the seven years we had spent together.

But now, all the love had worn away, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion.

Just then, the receptionist burst in frantically.

"Director! A patient's family is causing a scene in the lobby! You need to come right now!"

Rita's expression sharpened, and she rushed out the door.

I followed after her.

In the lobby, several family members stood holding bullhorns and signs. Beside them sat a patient in a hospital gown, pale-faced in a wheelchair.

The moment they saw Rita arrive surrounded by staff, they immediately shouted into the bullhorn, "My daughter had a tumor removal surgery at your hospital not long ago, but she kept complaining about stomach pain! Today she came back for a checkup, and we found out your hospital left a scalpel inside her! Tell us how you're going to compensate us!"

Then the next words hit me like a bolt of lightning.

"Dr. Kevin Miller! You heartless butcher pretending to be a doctor! Nobody should ever let him treat them!"

Me?

Impossible.

I would never make such a basic mistake.

And I had a photographic memory. I remembered every patient's condition and treatment history. I didn't recognize this patient at all.

Someone shoved me forward from behind.

"Dr. Miller! Hurry up and take responsibility already! The hospital's about to fall apart!"

I forced myself to stay calm.

"Please, I understand you're upset, but have you mistaken me for someone else? I never performed this surgery."

The woman who seemed to be the patient's mother collapsed onto the floor and started wailing, slapping the ground.

"What a sin! I even gave your assistant a lot of money! He said you'd personally perform the surgery, and that's why we came here because of your reputation! And now you made a surgical mistake and won't even admit it?!"

My face went blank with shock.

Taking bribes was no small matter.

"Please calm down. Tell me exactly when the surgery took place. Once I check the security footage, we'll know what really happened."

"No need to investigate." Rita's cool voice cut sharply through the noisy lobby, calm but abrupt.

I thought she was trying to cover things up and immediately frowned.

"No. This is a serious medical accident. We have to investigate."

"Are you deaf? I said there's no need to investigate!"

Her voice suddenly rose, sharp enough to silence the entire lobby. Her beautiful face was tight with severity.

Then my gaze lowered. Behind her, Julian clutched tightly at her wrist, looking visibly guilty.

In that instant, realization struck me.

Julian was behind this again, and Rita had chosen to protect him.

Yet before this, during a twenty-hour precision surgery I once performed, I had become so physically exhausted that I drank a two-dollar bottle of glucose midway through the operation. By accident, it had been added to the patient's family's bill.

When the family raised hell afterward, Rita forced me to bow and apologize. She said she had principles and boundaries and wouldn't go easy on me just because I was her husband.

Before I could even process what was happening, I watched helplessly as Rita stepped forward with an apologetic expression.

"This is entirely my fault for failing to manage my staff properly. I apologize on his behalf. The hospital will waive all treatment fees, provide additional compensation, and arrange for our most experienced doctor to perform the patient's second surgery. As for Dr. Miller's unethical conduct, I promise I will give you a satisfactory explanation!"