Resting my head against the window as the plane taxies down the runway, I can't help but smile inwardly. Two minutes after seven in the morning and, apparently, it all worked out fine. In less than three hours I'll be landing in London, just in time for Jimmy's wedding.

Shutting down the voices around me, I close my eyes, the tension of these last two days slowly fading away.

It's been crazy, nonstop. Having Filipe step on my last frayed nerve, cancelling my initial flight plans, and being part of a marathon 15-hour surgery where emotions ran high left me on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

That or of having someone murdered.

It all started last Wednesday night after my shift ended.

It was supposed to be my last day at work before a few well-deserved days off, which I had planned to spend in London. I was so excited about my flight the following day and eager to go home and pack my suitcase.

Julie kept insisting part of my excitement had certainly something to do with the prospect of seeing Brian again. I acted nonchalant about it, though. Because it would be plain nonsense to reminisce about some first love you don't see in a long time.

Right?

Total lie, dear Lord! He's been popping into my head every single day this past month.

If she knew I'd googled his name, and almost sent a friend request on Facebook at two in the frigging morning, she wouldn't have spared me. She would have mocked me mercilessly until I cried.

I was sitting in the doctors' lounge that night, waiting for Julie, using the spare time to wrap up a set of t-shirts with some funny lines I got for Sue's kids when hell broke loose.

I MAKE THE RULES. Josh

I'M THE REASON WE HAVE RULES. Emma

THE RULES DON'T APPLY TO ME. Mattie

RULES? WHAT RULES?

I laughed on my own as I folded that last tiny piece of clothing and wrote Marianne's name on the carton tag, recalling Sue's look of mock frustration when the fussiest of all her children fell asleep so quickly in my arms.

That moment the door swished open and I searched for Julie.

But it's was Filipe, instead.

After a brief hesitation, he walked towards me, one hand subtly resting on my shoulder. "I thought you'd left already... Need help?"

I kept tagging the presents, not even bothering to look at him. "About to finish here. But grab a cup; just made some fresh coffee."

The strong aroma still wafted through the air.

"Mattie? That's one of the twins, isn't she?" He read on one of the gift tags before he pulled up a chair. "Isn't it a shame I never got to meet them?"

I simply ignored his question. I could only imagine what kind of antic Filipe was trying to pull, but I wasn't willing to let anyone ruin my mood.

Reaching across the table, he laid his hand over mine and looked me in the eyes. "What's going on, Olivia? What can I do to help you?"

"Sorry?"

"I've heard some rumours..."

"What rumours?" I moved to take my hand from beneath his, but he firmed his grip.

"That you plan to resign. Do you even know how many people are waiting for an opportunity to apply for a position here? Why would you do that? When you can build a brilliant career in this hospital? When you get to learn from the most challenging cases, with the best professionals in the country?"

Right. And lose my sanity along the process.

"Like you said, rumours."

His face turned serious, his lips pulling into a thin line. "I got a call from HR, quit the charade. You've been asking about your contract, about your legal obligations in case of resignation."

"So what? I'll be twenty-nine next month, maybe I need new challenges, maybe I want my life to unfold in a different direction. Like carrying out humanitarian work, perhaps?"

"Why did you go straight to HR? You should always talk to people that matter first!"

"But I did. I talked to my parents. Told them already I'm considering selling the apartment and moving somewhere else."

"That's not what I meant. First, you speak with your direct supervisor! You should always follow the chain of command." His voice dropped low to a threatening whisper.

"Right, I owe you reverence." I folded my arms in defiance, my voice holding more than a touch of sarcasm. "Do you know where you should stick your authority, Filipe?"

Across the table, he grabbed my wrist firmly and pulled me forward from the chair. "You're acting insane! You're throwing away your career and I won't let you do that!"

In vain, I struggled to free myself from his grasp.

He shoved himself off the chair and pulled me closer to his chest. "Olivia, listen to me."

"My decisions don't concern you anymore. Get your hands off me."

He did just the opposite, pulling me so close I could feel his breath brush my face. "Olivia, please. Let's stop this hostility. It's insane, it's absurd what we're doing to each other. Let us get past what happened and give it another try. I feel so lost without you, I miss you so much..."

Filipe sounded so sincere, for a moment I stood frozen, paralysed by the intensity of his gaze. Then he leant down, his lips descending over mine.

I pushed him back from me in a fury. "Filipe! Don't you ever do that again. Ever!"

"Cariño, por favor," he pleaded, jerking my hand to his chest. "Let us not throw away six years of our lives over a stupid mistake... I can't get you off my mind. Everywhere I go, I see images of you, I wish you were there with–"

"That's interesting." Stepping back, I cast a long assessing look. "Last week's conference in Zurich? I have serious doubts you wished I was there with you."

"What does that mean?" The crease on his forehead deepened.

"Since you're so concerned about my career, here's a heads-up: there are some rumours going around about you and Dr Mena. That you were putting in a little too much overtime together over there. I'm sure there's nothing to it, it's probably only another full-blown gossip epidemic. Now, let us keep our fingers crossed and hope it doesn't get up there, to her husband's office."

It hit him like a train. The message and the ironic tone.

Looking as pale as death, he racked a hand through his hair. "People are saying what?"

"I know, right? The administrator's wife. Chills."

"You're fucking kidding me, right?" he growled, clenching teeth. "Who came up with such nonsense?"

Granted, fate always has a way of making shit happen. Despite the late hour, apparently, someone caught her sneaking away to his room and now the juicy gossip is spreading like a bad weed.

"With so many delegates attending the conference, no one ever knows who starts the bloody rumour-mill, do we?"

"Oh.My.God! I've just talked to Herr Doktor Klaus Bachmann!" Julie burst into the lounge, geekily fangirling about one of the most prominent experts on Omphalopagus surgery. "The man is absolutely brilliant!"

Wait, what?

"Oh. Sorry. You've got company."

"Excuse me, who did you meet again? My congenital-twins-Doctor-Bachmann?" I asked, the questions merely rhetorical.

"Huh... yes?" Julie's eyes darted from one side to the other, from me to Filipe and back.

Dead silence filled the room as my gaze kept shooting daggers his way.

"I'll get myself a tea... somewhere else. I think you two want to talk." Julie turned on her heel and closed the door behind her, only to peek back inside a second later, "Try not to blow each other's heads off, okay?"

"What's happening? Why is he here already? I thought we still had another week before the surgery."

Absentmindedly, he rubbed the back of his head. He was trying to form the best words to drop some bomb, I knew it.

Fixing him with my gaze, I moved closer. "How come the head of Paediatrics changes the schedule of this surgery in particular, has the lead surgeon coming over from Berlin prior to the settled date... and I know nothing about it?"

Patently uncomfortable, he took a small step back.

"Filipe, I've been following those children from eleven weeks into the pregnancy! I performed the C-section, I held their tiny hands every single night they spent in Intensive Care, I helped to settle them in their mother's arms when they were allowed out of the incubator for the first time. I've been in every exam, every MRI and CT scan, goddammit!

"It's been over a year of planning and preparation, and I promised those parents I'd stick with them each and every step along the way. That I'd do everything within my reach to wheel them out safe and sound when the day came―and now..." I stopped, at last, realising how much louder and louder my voice had grown.

"They decided to reschedule the procedure and there was an open slot this Friday; I have nothing to do with it. Besides, it's not your place to determine how we manage the surgery calendar." His tone was flat and final.

"When were you briefed about it?"

"A couple days ago. But you had the wedding coming and I thought that–"

"Damn you! You know how committed I've been to this case." I jabbed a finger into his chest. "Thing is, down there you also know I haven't resigned yet because I've been waiting for this moment. Now, is this your twisted way of getting back at me? Keep it under wraps and leave me out of it? Maybe fill in for me?"

His expression said the words he didn't dare to utter. I sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly as my mind churned.

"You stupid prick, you're scrubbing in! And then what else? Maybe boast a little to the media about how you and your outstanding department stood by this family and helped put an end to their agonising wait?"

A frown settled on his face. "Yes, I'm the head of this department, so you'd better watch your tone. I won't have you talk to me like that!"

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Olivia, don't push me."

"Why? I've done my math right and it's a bummer I found out just in time about your hidden agenda? Get some free publicity for yourself and add this to your list of dubious achievements?" I let out a snort of contempt.

Like Julie always says: relationships are a lot like algebra indeed. Sometimes you look at your X and wonder Y...

Filipe slipped across the room towards the door. "I think you should go now. Go to your wedding, enjoy the holiday, and come back with a better attitude."

"The hell I will!" I yelled, my chest tightening, my pulse beating frantically.

"Excuse me?"

"I am joining the first team, not you! I'll be the last person they see while anaesthesiologists do their work, you hear me? I'll sit around waiting until they're moved to the recovery room, it doesn't matter how long it takes! If I can't make it to the wedding, I don't care. If I do make it, I'll be back the next day."

He slammed the door shut and came back in. Towering over me with cold, menacing eyes he asked, "Who the fuck do you think you are to defy me like that?"

"The person who'll make sure a certain rumour spreads as quickly as wildfire if I'm not allowed in!"

"You wouldn't!"

I met his stare as I gathered my bag and the presents placed on the table, the air around us thickening with tension. "You sure you want to test me?"

Filipe didn't reply with words, but his body language, the way he narrowed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists, said it all.

"Good. Now go tell them I'm the one scrubbing in. And can I just say something else?" I asked, already standing by the door. "Screw you."

*

"...Yes, they were successfully separated and are expected to make a full recovery! It's wonderful, I couldn't be happier!" I tell my Dad over the phone as soon as I step out of the plane.

"Amazing, dear. And so glad you made it. But why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"Dad, I wheeled out that stretcher at two in the morning, I wasn't going to wake up anyone! Dozed off for a couple hours in the hospital and went straight to the airport."

"Mum will be so thrilled. Did you call her already?"

"I did, but she didn't answer the phone."

"She still hasn't returned from the hairdresser. I'm going to pick you up right away!"

"Don't! I'm taking a taxi. How's Jimmy? Fingernails already bitten down to the nub?"

Dad lets out a heartfelt laugh. "No, not yet. He seems cool as a cucumber. For the moment."

"Is he all set?"

"He is. And not looking very ugly, I'd say."

I chuckle in the middle of the busy street, a feeling of calmness and peace finally coming over me. "See you in a bit, Dad."