Of all the days he could choose to punish her, Larry Hall picked Friday, May twenty six. If she didn't know better, Elaine would have sworn he could read her mind. She always pictured him pinning all the wrong timings on his calendar, and choosing them one day after another. Today was spot on.

"You are this close to being delusional," said Susan behind her textbook.

"He gives me all the right reasons," retorted Elaine, contemplating the pile of files over the desk, they seemed to be multiplying. "It wasn't even my fault to begin with."

"Doctor Elaine Wright, here's a free fact for you," Susan adjusted herself on the couch, "there will never be a right timing, it will never be your fault, and it is never personal. Get over it!"

"These are three facts," Elaine snorted.

Susan was only two years her senior, but always played big mama. There was no point in debating with her, for all she gained were free facts tossed at her every time she whined or was close to a breakdown. Susan was brilliant, probably too smart for a blond, but this time she was wrong. This time it was personal.

Gary returned today.

"So, did you call him?" asked Susan.

"I left him a voice note," she sighed, "hey love! I'm sorry I'm not picking you up, because my sadistic boss won't let me go home before I finish some absurd paperwork, which won't be done anytime before your flight arrives, so you better take a cab and wait for me at home, but I can't guarantee that I'll be able to come today anyway. I'm so sorry, please call me as soon as you hear this."

"Your husband will be so thrilled," Susan laughed.

"I bet Hall's arse he will."

Though it was only a month ago, Elaine could barely remember her last Friday with Gary. The best thing about weekends with Gary was Gary's cooking. She had never fathomed his fascination with foreign cuisine, but it had become a weekend ritual; a luxury she terribly needed. She loved to watch him, though he wouldn't let her assist after she had sent the Chilli Con Carne splashing all over the floor, and a tray of cookies a week before it.

"You're still too young for shaky hands!" he had exclaimed.

"I'm still too young for may things," she smiled.

"Grey hair, for one?" he said, mischievously sticking his tongue out.

"Shut up! You wouldn't have noticed if I haven't told you," Elaine defended.

"Honey, I noticed because you basically screamed."

She would center herself at the dining table, waiting and drooling at the maddening scent of spice that would creep into her nostrils while he worked his magic. Since he left New Bay* to serve in Florida, instant noodles were her loyal companion.

"I need some tea," she yawned.

"Machine's broken!" called Susan, just as she crossed the door leaving. "I better come tomorrow to find you gone."

"Not very likely," she sighed, waving her off.

Alright, let's get down to business.

At this timing, when the day-work hustle faded, residents' lounge went mute. With the TV and blender broken, thanks to Snott, the space pretty much resembled a luxurious seclusion room.

They had a cozy couch and a couple of armchairs in the corner, a two-level bunk near which a bookcase stood facing a TV screen. There was an elegant kitchenette with a minibar and a kettle, also broken by Snott, a comfortable desk, spacious lockers and a spotless bathroom. The place was very soothing, but not when you're punished, and alone.

She picked a random file, not knowing what exactly she ought to revise. "Revise everything" was all he said, such were Hall's assignments, vague and senseless. She was staring at medication sheets, her mind void of anything but one thought; I should be home. On another day, Susan would kill her for taking the files to the lounge. God, even Susan pitied her.

Alright, one file down, ninety-nine to go.

It was only until the fourth file when flashes of light bolted before her eyes, and not long after, a throbbing headache started knocking her head, it made her nauseated. Wonderful! she thought, migraine is all I need for the day to be so perfect.

She glanced at her watch, it was already half past six, Garry arrived ten minutes ago. She checked her phone, nothing. No calls, no texts, and no voice notes. She dialled his number, still nothing, he didn't pick up.

Please don't be angry.

"This's worse than military," Hall had declared on her first day, damn he was right. Most of the time she could swear she worked harder than Gary, and it was pathetic that she could only be with him the very time she needed to sleep. Choosing Gary over sleep was a compromise she agreed to make, and now he was upset because she was stuck at work? She was almost furious at herself for feeling guilty, her head screamed and she had began crying when someone knocked the door, such a very bad timing for Nancy to come back from the ER.

"Come in," she yelled, not bothering to wipe her tears.

"I am so very freakin' frustrated," a very familiar voice said. Her heart jumped, she turned to find her husband standing at the door.

"I'm not hallucinating, am I?" she said, wiping her tears to get a clear visual. It was indeed Gary.

"I don't know, are you?" he smiled, "iced tea?" he clicked open a foggy can of her favourite iced tea brand.

"Oh my, you're here for real!" she squealed, bolting to take him between her arms.

"You said someone needed a bullet, so..."

"God, I hate him so much!" her tears flew faster than she could hold them.

"I'm serious, I can shoot him," he kissed her cheek, "and you tell the court I'm crazy. It's a win-win."

She laughed. "You indeed are." Gary was probably the only person capable of making her laugh. On the scale of hotness, he barely rated average; he wasn't tall or short, had neither light nor dark skin, he wasn't muscular or chubby, he was by no means handsome, yet somehow pleasant to look at. Second to cooking, cracking her up was his best quality.

"I think you still don't understand what a junior resident means," she gulped the tea, "God, I needed this!"

"I think I now have a pretty clear idea," he tiptoed, an indication of his discomfort. Is he okay? She could never tell what was wrong with Gary unless he told her, so much for a psychiatrist. "So, the absurd paperwork, finishing soon?"

Elaine shook her head. "Something bothering you?"

"Don't you have any food here?"

"Just ate the last cookie. I don't know how it happened, but Snott broke the electricity. He was heating the-"

"Snot?" he laughed.

"It's a nickname, his name is Scott, but... never mind. Gary, is there anything... wrong?"

"I fly back tomorrow morning," he said.

"No!" she exclaimed, "is that what staying longer next month means?"

"Look at the bright side, being stuck here makes you less upset about me leaving."

"No it doesn't, I hate you!"

"I think you still don't understand what a military service means."

"You're a part-timer," she rolled her eyes, a part of her wished he never came. Having a glimpse of him every month was far worse than not having him at all. "This's slavery."

"Says the girl who works 24/7?"

"They give me every other weekend, that's something."

"I'd stay, but you're working on stuff, aren't you?"

"How did they even let you in?" she asked.

"I have authorities," he winked. Why did she feel something was wrong?

"Does this count as a leave?" she asked.

"Hopefully not, Porter promised he'll let me off the hook very soon."

"Meh," she shrugged. She needed to ask him, just to make sure. "Are you on your meds?"

At that moment Nancy flew inside the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, already climbing the upper bunk.

"Nope," said Elaine.

"Not that I care," she said, "I'd kill for sleep."

"It's still eight," said Gary.

"She's been awake for three days straight." Nancy was snoring already.

"And that's my cue to get the hell out," he tiptoed again, "come here give me a kiss."

"You don't look alright," the words escaped her mouth before she could lock them in.

Gary smiled, holding her hands. "Babe," he whispered, "I am never alright, but I can still take matters into my own hands." And after a quick peck he slid out of the door.

For the next eight hours, hunched over her files, Elaine was fighting to keep Gary out of her mind. The glimpse of hunger and despair that glinted in his eyes haunted her.She took a deep breath. He's fine, we're fine. Ninety-nine down, one more file to go. It had turned out, at the end of the day, that Larry Hall did her a favour; distraction was a bliss.

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* New Bay is a completely fictional state in the United States.