Michael.
Surgical Ward.
15:45

"Oh, there you are. What took you so long to come? Didn't your teachers teach you not to run down the halls?" I asked once I see Cleo running down the hallway.

She catches her breath before answering dryly, "E-Elevator!"

I shake my head before frowning angrily at her, "Well, next time when your ass is paged by me, you get yourself up and run up the damn stairs if you have to. When I page, you better be here like your life depends on it."

She frowns at me slightly before nodding, "U-uh okay, what do you need?" I hand her a chart aggressively, "I don't need you doing consults anymore. Rose and Dalton will cover it for the rest of the week. You can handle pre-ops and surgery up here."

She grabs the chart and looks at it, "It's blank." My eyes widen as I answer angrily, "Okay, and? Go find a patient and fill it out! I'm sure there's someone that needs it filled!" She looks at me, somewhat concerned, "Doctor, you know nurses do triage for th-"

I yell back, "Oh really? Are you telling me something I already know, Cleo? You're the damn intern and I'm the teacher and when I tell you to do something, you just do it! This is a DAMN hospital ran by ME and I don't need your damn commentary now go in there and give me a filled-in chart so I can perform surgery!" She looks at me, somewhat disgruntled, before walking away.

I exhale slowly before turning around to the surgical whiteboard to erase some of the notes as I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders.

"Hey you, I could hear you screaming down the hall. What got you so grumpy, hm?" Lisa whispers. I grumble and turn to her, once I finished the board, "Stupid interns, per usual." She pecks my lips reassuringly, "Well, don't let him annoy you too much. I would hate to see my husband getting gray hairs over children." I chuckle as my arms wrapped around her small, petite waist.

"What brought you down here, babygirl? You know you were so naughty earlier in the closet..." I mumbled.

She giggles as my warm breath tickles her ear. "Well, I wasn't as naughty as you in there, Mr. 'Oh Lisa don't stop!'  You can't lie and say you didn't enjoy our little fun," she purrs. I roll my eyes as my hands slid from her waist before glancing at my watch.

"I have to work tonight, so I guess I'm going to take a rain check on our dinner date," I confessed.

She sighs before shaking her head slowly. "Michael, can't you make someone cover for you? My mother is going to be there," she expressed. I fake a gag before turning around to the whiteboard behind me.

"You know your mother and me....well we aren't two peas in a pod."

She gently plucks my ear, "Maybe because you insulted her hair color!" I snicker as I thought about last Thanksgiving with Lisa's family.

I turn back to Lisa. "Well, it's not my fault she asked for my honest opinion. What I was suppose to do? Lie?" I asked.

Lisa grumbles, "Yes, you idiot! I wouldn't like you either if you compared my hair to a Raggedy Ann doll."

As she said that, I burst out in laughter which caused her to smuggle a smile, trying to contain her laughter, before slapping my arm, "It's not funny!" Eventually, I calmed myself down before kissing her cheek, "I just don't want to have dinner with her. I know she doesn't like me. She hasn't liked me since we've been dating. Who knows, she might look like Howdy Doody today."

She groans in disappointment at my little punchline before grabbing my cold, massive hands with her small ones.

"Michael, now be nice. You know, you were a lot to handle when we were dating," she explains. I raise an eyebrow at where she was going before grinning.

"A lot to handle, how, if I might ask?"

She lifts her hand to her chin, allowing her index finger to tap along it. "Well, you were a young flirtatious doctor to all of the ladies, and well, a commitment wasn't something you were looking for. You always seemed...committed here," she shrugs. I inhale slowly before stepping closer to her, "Well, I've proved her wrong, didn't I?" Lisa's eyes gazed into mine before whispering, "Yeah, I guess so. Except for one thing."

"What?"

"Your work. Even now...at times, Michael...."

I frown at her internal combat with choosing the right words before asking sternly, "What is it, Lisa?"

Before she could answer, Cleo slowly walked up with a chart in her hand. I raise my hand up to her to signal to her I will be with her soon. She nods her head and walks back to pre-op. I wasn't going to let Lisa leave without telling me how she felt concerning my work.

Was my work not caliber to her taste in my success?

Lisa shakes her head as I grab her wrists before asking again, this time, a little less stern and more out of concern, "What is it? Is my work ethic not strong enough for you? Are you not happy?"

She finally answers me, "I don't feel like your wife and I'm starting to realize I was never your wife. Your work is who you are truly married to...Oh Michael, don't look at me like that! You say you would try to fix these things but we never seem to breathe together in the same for a little white without you savaging over a patient, the interns, or your friends here!"

"You know, life doesn't revolve us as a couple, Lisa!"

"I never said they were, I just wish..."

"WISH WHAT? STOP SPEAKING IN RIDDLES!"

"A part of me wish I was happy with you, the way we were before I married you!"

Her words were like blades to my chest. As if someone shoved a scalpel into my chest and ripped me wide open. As if bloody hell opened its gates, and the Devil himself gulped me from this earth.

I shake my head in disbelief as I search for words to answer back. But there wasn't anything to say. The words were as biblical as the story of the Lord's beaming light to blind the seeing yet ignorant man.

I answer dryly as I walked away angrily from my wife, "I cannot do this right now, Lisa!"

Cleo
Pre-Op Desk.
16:00

I scribble down some extra notes onto the chart before seeing Dr. Jack—Michael come over to me.

He seemed upset, but deep down, I didn't care. He acted like an asshole towards me earlier and yelled at me like I was a dumb ox.

His eyes looked over at the chart in my hand before asking hesitantly, "A-Are you ready to present the case to me?"

I nod my head confidently as the two of us walk down the hallway of rooms to the patient.

"Jack Reynolds. He's forty-five years old, has suffered from renal failure for a year, does dialysis regularly, and has been on the UNOS list for six months. He has never been on any sort of narcotics or drugs. Mercy does have a kidney that will fit Mr. Reynolds. Shirley did get in contact with the Mercy Hospital and they have a kidney donor, so I just need your signature..."

He takes the chart from me as well as the pen in my hand and asks, "Did you ask about him feeling sick, having any form of illness or fever? You know, it's influenza season right now. We cannot perform transplant with even a spike of fever."

I look away nervously before shaking my head, "I didn't ask. He hasn't eaten in a while in chances of getting a kidney. His blood glucose seemed normal...."

"And his blood pressure is a little high for someone who hasn't eaten, Cleo. I'm going to sign this release form off for now. We will take the kidney, but Shirley, order Mr. Reynolds 10 mg of Hydralazine and Cleo, can I talk to you?"

I nod my head as Michael hands the chart to Shirley before escorting me to the stairway that led to a plethora of stairs upwards. As the two of us walk up the stairs, I asked nervously, "Did I do something wrong?" He laughs, "No...no, I'm concerned about hypertension but it could be a reaction to shock or just anxiety. Sometimes it happens. I want to take you here."

Eventually, the stairs led to a thick steel door that Michael opened to the helipad area at the top of the hospital. I continue to follow Michael to the balcony side of the hospital that displayed the whole city of Chicago.

I gaze around the city buildings as the night seemed to creep sooner than imagine due to the lack of not having daytime savings time yet. The view seemed unimaginable as I have never seen anything like this in my entire life.

"Cleo, about earlier...I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. It was wrong for me to humiliate you. I'm just...frustrated and tired, but there was no excuse for it. So far, because of me, your experience here has been embarrassing and disgusting beyond any human's tolerance and intuition. I feel ashamed for all of this, as I'm the one who has caused so much of the dilemma."

I turn away from the view to look at Michael, who himself, was staring at the city. He seemed unsubtle with his behavior, and yes, I was angry, but it didn't seem worthy of keeping the hollow grudge. He carried the hospital on his two shoulders, has a jealous wife, a multitude of people who love and adore him, patients, to save at all cost, and seem to found a way to keep everything up float.

What disappoints me is the lack of appreciation he seems to get. It was more of a punchline of how Michael was the devil and we were his apprentice in this hell-hole, but the reality was none of us could grasp the idea of how human he was.

I smuggle a smile before shrugging, "It's fine."

"It's not "FINE." This is Jasmine County! We save patients a for a living and God, we need DOCTORS and I shouldn't have my interns being tormented for doing so!" he yells out angrily.

I watched as he balls his hands into a fist tightly before letting out, "Oh Cleo...at times, I know I seem the most pragmatic and diplomatic one due to my experience here, but for years I've held my head high and continue to ignore the signs that have led me so gutted and miserable. I never seemed to be satisfied." My hand reached over to rub his back reassuringly as he continues, "It seems like every day my life slips through the cracks. From this patient to that patient, I've seen to lose the major elements of what makes me human. I wonder if this is the curse of being a surgeon — no it must be."

"What do you mean? Michael, no one expects you to be perfect," I answered.

He looks over at me wearily as I notice trinkets of tears rolling down his face.

"Oh, you're so young. So full of life and ambition. Ready to wake up with a sole sense of purpose and see the first person you can open and stitch up with excitement and egoistical value. I look at you and I see me. Naive, contemplating on how to cram to perform a Carotid endarterectomy and how to be the surgeon everyone wants you to be. Sometimes, you interns concern me because the greed of power over human lives is like a vortex that can be never-ending yet gruesome as the days go along."

I lick my lips slowly before whispering soothingly, "I think you need to take a break or something to figure things out. What's the point of having a craft if you're not happy?"

He answers with uncertainties, "I love my craft, but my craft is my life and even...my wife can see that the many kisses and moments of love-making can't satisfy me the way I've been satisfied with this lust of expectation. I hunger and thirst for this, Cleo. Lisa's biggest fear was you, maybe even other women, because it's easy. It's easy to ignore the real maiden of work I desire. It's replaceable to get rid of a woman versus a man's work."

I nod my head in agreement before asking the big question, "So are you two...done?" He quickly wipes his face to erase every iota of his vulnerability.

It was as if he was whiteboard filled with marker's ink that somehow slipped into cleanliness: a clean slate.

He didn't answer the question yet began to walk over to a different section of the rooftop that exposed a bench with a couple of potted ivory and other herbal plants.

"Dante and I, as residents would come up here and talk about our dreams and ambitions. At times, we talked about a pretty lady here and there..."

I laugh softly which caused him to join in as well.

There was something special with the way Dante and Michael reminisce on their own past experiences. It seemed so genuine, triumphant, and momentous in their own lives as if they were gods.

The two of us sat on the bench together as I chime in, "The way you and Dante talk about each other...I don't understand why you two don't just go out on a date or something." Michael rolls his eyes before answering with a hint of sarcasm, "Haha, very funny. But, seriously, I know it's hard for you to believe, but Dante was more like me when he was younger. Sophisticated, a bit more glorious in his stature while the Dante you know was more of me when I was younger."

I frown to myself as I asked while looking down at my hands, "You know, can I ask you something about Dante?" Michael answers, "Yes, he watches Martha Stewart on the weekends." I burst out laughing as Michael waves his hands in the air defensively, "Don't tell him I said that."

"Michael...No, but seriously, I know the whole hospital is probably talking about him and I and lunch earlier..."

I promised Dante I wouldn't talk about his daughter to Michael....let me not. But...I'm so concerned about how Dante is feeling....and Michael knows him so well...

Michael answers once more, "If you're asking me for my opinion on you two, then Cleo, I think being Dante will have its challenges immensely, but who knows? It might become something great, something bigger than the world thought. Is it surprising? Eh, in its sense. Don't let the hospital's quarrel disrupts you and what you seek. I'm your mentor for the time being so as long as you're not with me, you're fine. Dante doesn't evaluate you, I do. I know Lisa and I are having trouble, but when I was living my turmoil as a resident, she was there and you wouldn't believe how different we are. I didn't think I could have things in common with her as she was a nurse, but somehow she just fit into my whole dynamic. She changed my life for the better, and Dante, it's been years since he's had something great like what I have with Lisa. If you're asking me if I think you should go for it, then you have my answer."

I smile to myself before admitting, "It's not that either. I just...when I think of him, I don't know something changed. I feel warm inside at the idea. All-day I've just been questioning where the hell they came from."

He chuckles at my description, "You deeply care about him, maybe even love him, and I'm sure he cares about you as well. I heard about you becoming a living spaghetti canvas at lunch. Dante has a sense of taste and you are what he sees fit, just take it as a sign of jealousy."

"And a part of me hates it."

Michael and I turned around to see Dante walking over to us. I exhale slowly as I rest my hand on my chest, praying that Dante didn't hear our whole conversation. Michael gazed at him, "What are you doing here?"

Dante smirks mischievously, "Here to shove a dildo up your ass. It's 6:03, and I promise to take Cleo to dinner, and somehow you exist to ruin just that!"

Michael mocks, "And the world seems to move along with or without your presence. I was just telling Cleo the world of our glorious hospital drama." Dante whimpers playfully, "And they all lived HAPPILY ever AFTER! Goodnight, grandpa. Nice bedtime story. C'mon Cleo."

I gasp slightly as Dante grabs my hand with slight force, which allowed me to stand from the bench effortlessly. Michael squints, "We were waiting on a kidney from a kidney donor."

I look up at Dante before smiling, "Yeah, um, we can try again tomorrow if you like?" Dante exhales slowly, "I can't. I'm going to this committee meeting tomorrow, hosted by yours truly."

I smuggle a small chuckle as Dante gave Michael a quick death glare.

Michael interjects brazenly, "It's fine, Cleo. Go ahead. We don't perform the surgery anyway, it's the transplant team that does. Go have fun."

"Thanks," I answered as Dante walks me over to the door that led to the staircase of stairs that Michael and I previously used to get up here.

As we walk down the many sets of stairs, there was an awkward silence mixed with the footstep noises along the iron stairs. Eventually, Dante asked, "You seem quiet, are you okay? I mean if you want to go see that kidney transplant, I'm okay with that Cleo." I look up at him before shaking my head, "No, no, I've just been thinking."

"About?"

"What you told me earlier, about your daughter. I just hate knowing that you're so unhappy about it all. That you don't seem to have a sense of closure," I admitted.

His expression filled with a sense of empathy before resting his hand on my shoulder, "You don't need to let this ponder your mind. There's a lot of things in life and that just seems to hang on without its ending chapter."

My head turned away in guilt as I thought about my never-ending chapter of my father's death and the missing answers.

Dante leans closer to me and whispers, "Did I make you think of something?"

My head slowly turns towards him as our faces were bare inches from one another as I answer honestly, "My father. He was killed when I was sixteen, and there's just so many missing pieces to the puzzle."

Dante frowns before shaking his head disappointingly. "I'm sorry that happened to you, Cleo. I could see why you value me mending this vortex with my own "family," but being here, at Jasmine County. You guys are my family. I chuckle as we continue to walk down the rest of the stairs.

"What a dysfunctional family you have then."

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A/N: omg I've been gone for weeks and this book is at 1K reads? ASTRONOMICAL. Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading, passing comments, theories, and enjoying this book! I have finals next week so sorry for the lack of updates so far. Anyways, happy reading! :D