When Pain Runs Bone-Deep

Disembodied as I was, I figured that I was likely a goner, which was probably why they called for the best anesthesiologist in the hospital, Alex, to help.

However, Yves rejected the idea. "I don't like changing anesthesiologists mid-surgery."

Well, of course. Julia's surgery was more important than my life.

Slightly frustrated, I pulled a face at Yves.

The third time the door to the operating theater was pushed open, Julia's surgery was almost halfway done.

"Dr. Steward, they've been trying to resuscitate the patient for 30 minutes. They want to know if they should keep going with it."

Yves finally lost his temper and threw down his drill into the instrument tray. "Do you people have no common sense? If it's been half an hour, you should be calling their parents to see if they want to keep trying! If you ask me, I'd say don't bother!"

I nodded in agreement.

To terminate resuscitation efforts, they would need consent from the patient's next of kin. There was no use asking Yves about this anyway.

From a doctor's perspective, attempting further resuscitation was useless since I had coded half an hour ago.

Unless it was for a loved one, no one would exhaust every effort just for an unguaranteed miracle.

Julia's surgery finally ended late into the night.

For some reason, my soul wasn't tied to my lifeless body. Instead, I was tethered to Yves, unable to drift any further than two feet away from him.

He seemed to have completely forgotten about me. He waited another two hours in the observation room until Julia woke up, then brought her to her room himself.

He carried her to her bed and tucked a pillow under her head, only glancing at my bed after ensuring that the nurse had hooked up the IV bags.

"Where's Summer?" he asked.

The nurse paused, seemingly surprised by his calmness, and said cautiously, "She was taken home by her mother earlier in the night."

Yves nodded and said nothing more.

After a while, I watched him walk over to the window and pull out his phone. He pulled up a contact labeled "Wife".

He hesitated, his slender fingers hovering over the call button. Just as he was about to tap on it, Julia's voice came from behind.

Frail and pale, she twisted her fingers nervously as she said timidly, "Yves, why don't you call Summer? I'm sure she hadn't meant to hurt me so badly when she pushed me…"

Yves paused. He glanced over at Julia, anger flashing in his eyes when his gaze swept over her legs, then exited the contact screen.

He went back to the side of Julia's bed and patted her on the head fondly. "There's no need for that. You're hurt so badly. Letting her reflect on her errors for a few days would do her good."

What?

I almost burst out laughing out of sheer disbelief.

If I could touch Yves, I would kick him right now.

It was all my fault, was it?

Julia had almost been hit by a motorcycle—I had pushed her out of the way to save her life!

Did he not see the injury on my head where the motorcycle had hit me? I had sustained a brain hemorrhage!

The memory had been blurry earlier due to my head injury, but now that I was dead, I remembered everything clearly.

Then again, what would would it have been if I had remembered earlier? He wouldn't have believed me anyway.

I wilted.

Yves stayed in Julia's ward until the next morning.

When his colleagues saw him walking out of her room to end his shift, they were shocked.

After glancing at each other for a while, one of the doctors who was close to him asked cautiously, "Dr. Steward, your girlfriend… aren't you going to go back to check on her?"

Yves waved his hand impatiently like he didn't want them to talk about me. "There's no need to check on her. It's just a minor issue."

No one dared to push further.

I heard one of the female trainees mutter behind his back, "I didn't know Dr. Steward had a heart of stone."

I scoffed. Yves wasn't a heartless, emotionless person.