26. Promising

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Dr. Allen and I scrub in, greeted by the bright lights of the OR. Once we're suited up we take our positions at the table, and I look across to see Mateo's dark eyes sparkling at me. I give him a smile under my mask before squinting up at the gallery. It's hard to see with the glare against the glass, but as soon as Dr. Allen instructs to dim the lights I'm able to see clearly.

Ashlee sits next to Patrick in the center of the front row, the cousins both flashing me enthusiastic smiles and thumbs ups, and I only have to look a few feet over to lock eyes with Brad. He sits right against the glass on the edge of his seat, elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together, pressed against his mouth in anticipation. His dark eyes soften when they meet mine, his posture relaxing as he sits up straight, flashing me a small, encouraging smile.

I mean to smile back, even though he can't necessarily see it behind my mask, but the figure sitting behind him catches my eye when they also sit up straighter. I look just above Brad's dark head to see Dr. Larson's large frame sitting in the back row of the packed gallery, intently observing.  I swallow thickly, feeling more nervous than I was before.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Dr. Allen announces to the OR, pulling my gaze away from Dr. Larson.

Mateo hands Dr. Allen the scalpel and the surgery begins.

*

Over nine hours later, I'm relieved to scrub out and move around on my aching feet. The surgery seems promising. I think Dr. Allen was able to cut out all of the tumor without nicking the spinal cord, but we won't know anything until Mrs. Adams wakes up tomorrow.

"Nice work today, Dr. Harper," Dr. Allen comments, removing his mask and scrub cap, running a tired hand through his short, dark hair that's beginning to streak with some gray strands.

I laugh. "You did all of the work," I confess. He let me cut some of the easy parts of the tumor out, but he cut all of the tricky, risky parts.

He gives me a small smile. "Not exactly. It was nice to have a few breaks from cutting every now and then. You show real potential, Dr. Harper."

Now it's my turn to smile. "Thank you, Dr. Allen."

He gives a gentle pat to my shoulder as he walks away. "Now go home and get some well-deserved rest."

"Right back at ya," I call, giving him a pointed look. Like I said, he did a lot more strenuous work, but I know he's probably not going to go home anytime soon or get much rest.

He gives me a guilty smile that confirms my suspicions—that he's probably not going to get much sleep tonight. Not until he knows Mrs. Adams's condition, anyway. "Goodnight, Dr. Harper."

"Goodnight."

When I'm done scrubbing out, I walk out into the hallway to find Brad leaning against the wall, waiting. He looks up when I exit the OR and meets me halfway.

"Hey," he says, reaching out and massaging one of my shoulders. My eyes flutter closed, realizing just how tired and sore I am after being on my feet in the same place for the whole day. It takes everything inside of me to resist the urge to step forward and wrap my arms around him and lean into his chest. "How did the surgery go?"

"Good," I say, hopeful. "I think it went really well. Dr. Allen removed all of the tumor, but only time will tell."

Brad nods, and his fingers stop kneading my shoulder to run down my back. He pulls me closer until our bodies are pressed against each other. I give in and rest my head against his chest as his hand runs up and down my back. I allow myself to close my eyes for a minute and Brad obliges, hand still running up and down my back soothingly, and I nearly combust when his hand slips under my scrub top and makes skin to skin contact. His hand is so soft and warm running up and down the span of my back, I think I would live in this moment forever if I could.

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