At the hospital, a cluster of pedle blocked the corridor, anger radialing from them in waves.
‘You promised a specialist who guaranteed results! A man jabbed his finger at a retreating nurse. If he doesn’t make it, we’ll con this place into the ground!
Behind the angry group, a woman sat alone, tears streaming silently town her face.
Irene slipped around the corner, taking the long way to the changing rooms. Minutes later, she entered the emergency room, the consummate professional once more.
The medical team visibly relaxed at her arrival, creating space at the bedside. With quick movements, Irene examined the patient, tuning out the muffled shouting from the hallway.
“Post–surgical complication,” she determined after a thorough check Caught early. He’ll need monitoring for two days, but his outlook is good.”
The team moved with renewed purpose under her quiet commands, the chaos outside irrelevant in the face of her steady focus.
By midday, the crisis had stabilized. Irene and Matthew exited the patient’s room, both relieved.
Matthew noticed her furrowed brow hadn’t relaxed. He nudged her shoulder. “Pretty standard complication. What’s up, Joy? Getting soft on me?” His teasing aimed to lighten her mood.
Irene shook her head. “This case needs special attention. His treatment plan needs adjusting.”
While some doctors might worry about the family’s threats, Irene focused solely on the patient’s welfare. She knew too well how fragile life was, hanging by threads she could sometimes mend, sometimes not.
“This patient needs constant eyes,” she said decisively. “We should take shifts. I don’t trust anyone else to catch the warning signs in
time.”
Matthew hesitated. “What about your kids? You can’t pull another lone wolf routine.”
“It’s different now. Grandpa’s home. The kids won’t be alone.”
Matthew nodded. “Fine, but you take days, I’ll cover nights. That way you’re home when they go to bed.”
“Deal,” she agreed.
In the office, Irene called home to explain, putting the phone on speaker as she sorted patient files.
The triplets‘ voices tumbled through immediately, falling over each other.
“Mom, don’t work too hard!” Lily pleaded.
“Health first!” Lucas chimed in. “You can’t help patients if you’re burned out.”
“We’re being super goed,” Alex assured her, then added casually, “Oh Uncle Adam’s having lunch with us!”
Irene’s fingers froze mid–motion. Her mind flashed to fragments of last night.
He’s… there now?” Her voice tightened.
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Chapter 192
“Yep!” Alex replied, excitement clear. “Wanna talk to him?
Before she could respond, the phone changed hands.
“Doctor.” Adam’s deep voice sent an unexpected ripple through her. Heard about your emergency case
A strange nervousness gripped het. “Yes… thanks for watching the kids.”
Silence stretched between them, filled only by breathing from both ends.
Finally, Adam spoke softly: “About last night… feeling better? The kids said you had a headache.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I’m fine, just a little… I should apologize for
“Don’t.” His interruption was gentle but firm. “That wine hits like a thick after a delay. Everyone understands.
Their conversation remained brief before Irene found an excuse to hang up. She leaned back, surprised to find her palms actually sweating.
The jacket waiting at home represented more than just an item to return–it symbolized something shifting between them, something neither had acknowledged.
She couldn’t deny the comfort she’d felt hearing his voice, or the flutter of anticipation at seeing him again. Professional boundaries were blurring despite her best efforts.
Irene redirected her focus to the patient files. The jacket problem could wait. For now, work offered the clarity she craved–though Adam’s voice lingered like a melody she couldn’t shake from her mind.
elody she
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