"It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." — Bilbo Baggins
I Almost Do (Part 3) - Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader
Summary: Things were complicated after Robby returned. Too complicated. With a job offer on the table and a boyfriend, you still find it hard to stop thinking about Robby. To stop thinking about the what-ifs.
Notes: hiiii, so sorry that this took forever. i've been enjoying time with my family and friends, and have gotten back into reading, so writing took a backseat. this also ended up being so long that it took me forever to finish. also, this is the final part of this series. i hope you enjoy!!
Part 1 Part 2
It was a rare, slow afternoon. Not entirely quiet, it never was, but slow enough that people were leaning against walls and counters instead of rushing, laughing with each other for longer than they should, and sipping on coffee instead of chugging it down. No one said anything about it in fear of invoking the dreaded hospital curse. If someone mentioned anything, the rare peace would dissipate.
You were at the nurses’ station, logged into a computer and doing some much-needed catching up on your charting, half-listening to Donnie and Mateo argue about some football game.
You felt his presence before he said anything. It was strange, almost like you were hard-wired with a sixth sense for him.
He stopped in front of you, a hand tapping on the counter next to you.
“Robby,” you said, acknowledging him without looking up from your screen.
He said your name in return, and you sensed the smile on his face. “I need a second opinion.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Wow,” he said. “Didn’t even ask what it’s about.”
You finally glanced up, no longer fighting the urge to see his charming smile, and raised one brow. “Is it for a diagnosis?”
“No.”
“Alright, then it’s regarding either a bad idea or a worse one.”
You heard Donnie snicker quietly behind you.
Robby pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m offended.”
“You’ll survive,” you said, turning back to your screen, a smile on your face.
“Debatable,” he muttered, then leaned his forearms on the counter across from you. “Are you gonna help me or not?”
You sighed in fake annoyance and looked at him again. His smile was still on his face, the corners of his brown eyes crinkled, and you fought the urge to look away when your heartbeat increased. “Alright, lay it on me, Robinavitch.”
He studied you for a second, long enough that it made something inside of you jolt.
“If someone brings in donuts,” he said, “but doesn’t explicitly say they’re for everyone, is it morally acceptable to take one?”
You blinked, stunned into silence for a moment.
“…That’s your crisis?”
“It’s an ethical gray area,” he insisted, and the incredulous laughter escaped you before you could stop it.
“You’re asking me,” you said slowly, “if you’re allowed to take a donut.”
“Will I be judged for it?”
“Oh, absolutely. Especially by me,” you said immediately, the smile lingering on your face.
“Wow.” He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
You finally closed out the chart, giving him your full attention. “Just take one, Robby. If they didn’t want people to take them, they shouldn’t have left them there.”
“And risk ruining my reputation?”
“You don’t have one,” you shot back.
He grinned wide and unguarded at that, and a part of you marvelled at just how easy it was between the two of you.
“Okay,” he said. “Hypothetical follow-up. If I take one,” he continued, leaning in slightly, voice dropping like this was suddenly serious, “and bring you one, does that improve my standing?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you trying to bribe me?”
“Is it working?”
You held his gaze a second too long. There was something lingering in it, playful, but also intentional and focused in a way that felt different than how he was with everyone else. Your pulse skipped in your chest at the fact that you noticed, that he made it easy for you to notice. You looked away first.
“Depends on the donut.” You were trying hard to be nonchalant, and you wondered if he could tell.
He straightened, triumphant. “So that’s a yes.”
“That’s a maybe.”
“Good enough.”
He pushed off the counter and headed toward the break room. You told yourself to go back to charting; you were backlogged four patients from the morning rush, and you didn’t want to stay after your shift to catch up. You didn’t, though. You watched him instead, the way he joked with Dana in passing as he made his way into the break room. He grabbed and opened the bright pink box of donuts like he was fully aware he was committing a minor crime, and you bit your lip to hold in your giggle. He glanced back over his shoulder and caught your eye, winking at you.
You quickly dropped your gaze, heat creeping up your neck.
When he returned, he set a napkin down in front of you. You glanced down. It was your favorite…of course it was.
“You look like a chocolate frosting person,” he said.
You frowned slightly. “That was a bold assumption.”
“I’m a bold guy,” he replied.
You picked it up anyway, taking a bite just to prove a point. He was watching you, a knowing glimmer in his eye, almost as if he knew that he was right.
You sighed in mock resignation. “It’s acceptable.”
He grinned. “Oh, come on. Everyone’s a chocolate frosting kind of person.”
You finally let out the laugh you’d been holding in, taking another bite of the dessert, and he kept his eyes on you. You felt a bit embarrassed, but a part of you bristled at the attention. It felt good to have his eyes on you.
“You do this with everyone?” you asked after a pause, gesturing between the two of you.
“What, risk my professional integrity for baked goods?”
“No,” you said. “This.”
His expression shifted slightly. It softened, the mischievous glint going away, but his focused gaze remained firmly on you.
“No,” he said. The answer landed differently than you expected. Your stomach flipped and your breath caught in your chest at the sudden realization that hit you.
“Oh,” you said before you could stop yourself.
He tilted his head. “Oh?”
You shook your head quickly, looking back down at the screen you were definitely not working on anymore. “Nothing.”
But it was not nothing. Because something clicked into place. An overwhelming realization that you should have seen coming, because it felt so certain and obvious.
You liked him. More than you should. More than a resident should like their attending. The sudden clarity left you slightly disoriented, and you realized that it might be a problem…a big one. But a part of you didn't entirely mind.
Things used to be so easy. The flirty banter was almost second nature for you and Robby, and you looked forward to his quips every day. You used to wake up excited for the day ahead. But now, dread settled into your gut every morning since he returned, knowing you had to go into work and see him. You knew you shouldn’t. You slept next to your boyfriend–sweet, kind, and undeniably hot Evan. But your first thoughts when you woke up were not of him. They were of soft, doe brown eyes, a raspy voice, and the self-depricating man they belonged to.
It was almost like Robby was haunting you.
You walked into the hospital, the blast of air-conditioning greeting you, and you found it funny that the entrance, the busy waiting room full of sick, pissed-off people, was the only part of the building you ever felt calm in these days. The rest of it–the nurses’ station, the break room, the hub and ambulance bay–it all felt as much of a prison as your own thoughts.
And he was there, in the center of it, his eyes already on you like you were a siren calling to him.
It had been a week since he spoke with you in the breakroom. A week since your thoughts could not stop swirling with his words and the implications behind them.
There were things I should’ve said before I left.
A hand found itself on the small of your back, and you glanced behind you, guilt overwhelming you at the sight of Evan’s smile. The smile that you should be thinking of.
“Gotta head up, now. Have a good day, babe.”
“Yeah, you, too,” you said, forcing a smile on your face.
He nodded, the easy smile still on his face, but his eyes flickered behind you to where Robby was standing. He looked back at you and nodded before turning and heading towards the elevators. You knew he could sense something, a shift that happened to you whenever Robby was around, but he had not said anything, not even the night he saw the two of you in the break room.
You made your way to the hub, your feet dragging beneath you like you had cinderblocks attached to them, and you ignored the pit in your stomach the closer you got to him.
“Morning,” he said, initiating the conversation like he had every day since he came back.
You looked up to the med board, trying to distract yourself with the list of patients.
“Hi,” you said, not sparing him a glance even though every cell in your body was screaming at you to just look at him.
You felt his gaze on you, steady and unrelenting, and a part of you was growing used to the feeling of him watching you. It was familiar and oddly comforting. You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t mean anything. But you felt his eyes linger on you every day since he came back, the soft look in his gaze feeling heavier and more momentous since he almost said what he felt for you.
There was no denying it. You ran through that conversation in your head again and again, trying to find some other meaning to the words that he said, but you couldn’t. There were things you should’ve said before he left, too–things you were going to say, but things were so different now. So much more complicated.
“Hey,” he said, dragging your attention back to the present moment as he slid closer to you. “You okay?”
Your stomach tightened at his proximity, and your fists clenched at your side. Evan. His name was on repeat in your brain for the last week, an effort to remind yourself of the sweet man and to stop yourself from reaching towards what you shouldn’t have. What you couldn’t have.
“Yeah,” you answered quickly, your eyes finally shifting towards him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged, hands stuffed casually into his pockets, but his voice lowered slightly when he spoke again. “You seem quiet.”
“Just getting my day started,” you said, and you cursed the defensive tone that bled into your words.
He raised a brow. “Right. Sure.” He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed loosely, and he didn’t seem convinced. “It just seems like since I came back, things are different. I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you.” He wasn’t intense or confrontational. It seemed like a genuine effort to make things less awkward between the two of you. You supposed it was part of his job as the head attending to make sure that there was no friction between the two of you.
You swallowed the knot at the back of your throat and nodded. “I know.”
You were hyper aware of him and the space between the two of you, or lack thereof. He was so close that his warmth was emanating on you. Your eyes strayed to him for a second too long, and your gazes met. For a moment, the rest of the hospital faded. The loud ambulance sirens weakened to a quiet hum. The loud conversations and movements slowed to a blur.
Your brain scrambled itself, trying to think of something to say, but thankfully, you didn’t need to. Paramedics came rushing in from the ambulance bay, wheeling in a middle-aged man on a stretcher. And then the two of you rushed into action, moving towards your first patient of the day.
It was twenty-five minutes later when the two of you emerged from Trauma One. You breathed a sigh of relief. You managed to stabilize the patient, although he was still symptomatic. A part of you was also glad that, despite your personal situation with Robby, the two of you worked as well together as you always had. Like true partners, a perfect fit that worked efficiently.
You cleared your throat.
“You were awesome in there,” you said. Robby looked at you, a shine in his eyes, and he smiled. A true smile–one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made his cheekbones rise.
“High praise,” he teased.
Your lips twitched slightly. “Don’t let it get to your head. Your ego is huge enough already.”
He chuckled. “Too late.”
You playfully rolled your eyes and, for a moment, it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed.
“You think I was right to page cardio?” you asked, second-guessing yourself. “He's stable now; maybe it’s unnecessary.”
He shook his head. “It was the right choice. He’s still symptomatic.”
You nodded and smiled at him. It was a small, hesitant smile, but the shift in him was obvious immediately. He seemed brighter, almost happier, although he tried to contain it. He nodded at you before he was pulled in a different direction, and you grabbed another patient, a calm settling within you. Maybe the rest of the day wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe things didn’t have to stay as awkward as they had been.
But that was all wishful thinking.
You were reviewing labs, double-checking orders for your new patient. You had been almost positive it was a routine UTI, but the labs just confirmed it. Perlah was next to you, and both of you started to make your way to the patient’s room when a sharp, impatient voice cut through the floor.
“Who put in this consult? For Justin Ketos?”
You looked up at the sound of your patient’s name.
Dr. Kane stood at the counter, chart in hand, irritation written into every line of his face. He was known for this. He was a brilliant cardiologist, one of the best, but his moods were unpredictable.
You cleared your throat, and his eyes snapped to you.
“That was me,” you said, keeping your tone even as you stepped forward. Perlah stiffened behind you, and her hand tightened around your wrist before quickly letting go.
He flipped a page, scoffing. “Why would you page me for this?”
You blinked. Maybe you were right to second-guess yourself earlier. You quickly glanced around, trying to spot Robby, but you couldn’t see him. “His troponins were elevated, and—”
“They’re borderline,” he cut in, louder. Heads started to turn in your direction, and you felt heat creep up the back of your neck in embarrassment. “This doesn’t warrant a stat consult.”
Your stomach tightened, but you held your ground. “His EKG changed from baseline, and he’s still symptomatic. I followed protocol.”
“Protocol,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. “Or panic?”
You took a steadying breath. “I made a clinical decision based on his presentation.”
“And you’ve wasted my time. Great job,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how many unnecessary consults like this I get in a day?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but his harsh words didn’t relent.
“This is exactly the problem,” he said, gesturing with the chart. “People who don’t fully understand what they’re looking at overreact and escalate things they shouldn’t.”
The words landed harder than they should. You knew you were right. You knew it. Robby had confirmed it. But someone speaking to you like that, humiliating you in front of everyone, made something in your chest twist, and you felt burning in your eyes.
“I didn’t overreact,” you said, quieter but firm. “I did my job.”
He laughed, short and dismissive. “If this is your idea of doing your job, maybe you need to—”
“Hey.” It wasn’t loud, but the raspy voice cut through the tension. Robby.
He stepped in beside you, his presence immediately grounding. He was close enough that his arm brushed against yours, and you bit your tongue, because a part of you felt like you were about to burst into tears.
Dr. Kane turned his attention to the older man, already irritated. “What?”
Robby’s expression was calm and controlled.
“Do not speak to my resident like that,” he said, solid and steady. You knew him well enough to sense the simmering anger beneath the surface. His hands clenched at his side, his mouth twitched, and his head tilted to the side.
Kane scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Robby replied evenly. “If you have a concern about the consult, we can discuss it professionally. But you don’t get to come in here and talk down to one of my best doctors.”
A beat passed in silence, and your heart swelled in your chest at not only his praise but his support.
Kane’s eyes narrowed, glancing at you before moving back to Robby. “I’m addressing a mistake, Robinavitch.”
“No,” Robby said, sharper now. “You’re making assumptions.”
Silence filled the space around you, and you could sense more than a few eyes on the three of you.
Robby gestured toward the chart. “EKG changes, elevated troponins, ongoing symptoms—that’s a valid consult. She followed protocol and made the right call.”
Kane pressed his lips together in annoyance, clearly not expecting pushback. He didn’t expect Robby to defend one of his residents, even though that’s exactly the thing Robby would do for anyone who needed it.
“This could’ve waited,” he muttered.
“Or it could’ve been something serious that got missed,” Robby countered. “That’s the point of getting you down here.”
Kessler exhaled through his nose, irritation still lingering there but dulled. “Fine,” he said shortly. “I’ll take a look.”
He didn’t apologize, but he also didn’t argue further. He turned, ignoring you, eyes scanning the chart as he walked off.
“Alright, people, back to work,” you heard Dana say from somewhere behind you, but her voice sounded far away and drowned out, like it was underwater.
The space around you slowly came back to life. Quiet chatter picked up again, and you felt gazes shift away from you. But your feet remained rooted in their spot. You still felt the sting of embarrassment and humiliation from being called out in front of your colleagues, in front of patients. You felt shame and panic building and knew the frustrated tears weren’t far behind.
Your hands trembled as you heaved a breath and took the opportunity that everyone’s attention had shifted from you to rush away, tumbling through the double doors and into the stairwell.
The door opened behind you and you knew it was him before even having to look back.
“I’m okay,” you said, slightly out of breath. His presence lingered behind you and he murmured your name. You swallowed the lump in your throat and squeezed your eyes shut, urging the burning feeling behind them to go away.
When you felt you finally got a hold on your emotions, you turned. His expression had shifted, the iciness he had held for Kane completely gone, and he was staring at you with softness and warmth and understanding. You felt a new knot form at the back of your throat.
“I’m okay,” you repeated, forcing the words out, and although you tried sounding confident, your words were quieter that time.
“You sure?” he asked, leaning his head down to get a closer look at your face.
You were silent for a moment and decided it was better not to answer that question, because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to keep lying. Not to him.
“Thanks,” you said, changing the subject. “For standing up for me.”
He shrugged, but didn’t look away. “You don’t have to thank me for that. He was out of line.”
His mouth tightened into a thin line and his eyes shifted before returning to yours. You could sense the anger that still lingered.
“I could’ve dealt with Kane. I don’t want to cause any trouble. You didn’t have to step in like that.”
He looked at you, disbelief etching into the lines of his face.
“Yes, I did. You shouldn’t have to deal with Kane. You did everything you were supposed to; he had no right talking to you like that.”
He took a step towards you, the air growing thick and your heart beat faster beneath your ribs. You felt on edge again for an entirely different reason.
“I’ll always step in for you.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just nodded.
He stared at you for a moment longer.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” His voice was low, gravelly and deep, and you took a shaky breath in before being able to respond.
“Yes,” you said. He tilted his head, taking another step towards you, his eyes showing doubt. “I promise.”
Your voice came out low and breathy, and you clenched your hands at your sides, desperately trying to hold back the urge to reach out and touch him. He was so close you could smell the mint on his breath. His breathing picked up, you noticed, and his eyes glanced down the span of your face and settled on your lips for a second before darting back to your eyes. He opened his mouth, and for a moment you thought he would say something, but he didn’t. He sighed, taking a step back from you, though his eyes still lingered on your face.
“I meant it,” he said quietly. “What I said back there.”
“What?”
His jaw tightened slightly. “That you’re one of my best doctors.”
A swell of pride rose in you and you smiled at him. Something deeper lingered under the words, you both knew it, but neither of you moved.
The doors slammed open, making you jump back from Robby. You looked behind him at Evan, who had just stepped into the stairwell.
“Evan,” you said, breathy, and Robby took another step away from you. Guilt started eating away at you. You had stood there, entirely too close to Robby, and not a single thought of Evan had crossed your mind.
He stood at the doors for a moment, glancing between you and Robby, before taking a step towards you.
“I heard about what happened.”
Robby cleared his throat. “I have to get back.” He glanced at you before speaking again. “I’ll see you in there.”
A heavy silence lingered after the door closed behind him. You looked at Evan and the indiscernible look in his blue eyes and you didn’t trust yourself to say anything first.
He glanced back at the doors before looking back at you.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded. “Word travels fast around here,” you muttered.
“Dana told me what happened…Nice of Robby to defend you like that.”
You cleared your throat. “Well, he’s my boss.”
He gave you a pointed look. “I think we both know that’s not the whole truth.”
Your hands shook and you felt nervous. You knew that you had not done anything wrong. You and Robby hadn’t even touched, but you knew that your heart wasn’t in the right place right then. And that just made you feel like shit. You looked down at your shoes, shame filling every part of you.
“Look, I have patients I have to see. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Let’s talk tonight, alright?”
A part of you shriveled inside at his calm tone, the kindness that still swirled in his blue gaze. He approached you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He gently grabbed your shoulders, making you look up at him, and he smiled, almost resigned.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll talk later.” He pressed another kiss to your head and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the stairway.
The day was long, as were most days. There was a brief lull in the mid-afternoon, and you took the chance to catch up on as much of your charting as you could. A part of you resented it–patients kept you busy, and if you were busy, you could keep your mind off of how much of a shit show your personal life was. The entire situation with Robby, the tension that you knew Evan felt, the impending, impossible decision you had to make about that offer letter from Presby…it all felt like too much that day. And sitting your ass down to do something as mundane as charting just made too many thoughts swirl in your head.
A presence slid in beside you. You glanced up at Trinity, who looked to be about done with everything and everyone as she dropped her tablet onto the counter in front of her.
“Remind me again why we thought this job was a good idea,” she huffed out.
You chuckled. “Because we were young and optimistic and maybe a little stupid.”
“Tragic,” she said and rolled her eyes.
She glanced at you, contemplative.
“So,” she said casually, “have you made up your mind yet?”
You didn’t look up from the computer screen. “About what?”
She gave you a pointed look. “Presby…”
You bit your lip and lowered your voice slightly. “I don’t know yet.”
“It’s a good offer,” she said. “Better hours, better pay…”
“Wow, Trin, you’re really selling it. If you want me gone, just say it.”
Her sharp eyes stared at you and she raised an eyebrow.
“I’m just saying, if I had that option, I’d take it. I wonder what’s keeping you here,” she said, and though the question was rhetorical, she had a knowing look in her eye.
“Well, Evan thinks I should take it.”
She huffed out a cynical laugh. “Oh, please, we both know it’s not him.”
“Trinity,” you said, and she threw her hands up in mock surrender.
“I didn’t say names,” she said. “All I’m saying is that you should decide soon. They won’t wait forever.”
You knew she was talking about Presby, but her words hit harder and deeper than they were meant to. They won’t wait forever.
“I know.”
“Are you seriously considering the offer, though?”
“Yes, I am. I think it might be the right choice. But, maybe it’s not…I don’t know.”
Before she could respond, Dana’s voice cut in from behind you.
“Wait, what offer?”
You turned to find her a few feet away, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. Your stomach dropped, and Trin winced from beside you.
“Oops…that’s my cue to go.” You shot her a look as she got up and walked away.
You turned back towards Dana. You hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Um, I got an attending offer for next year…From Presby.”
She stepped closer. “And you were planning on mentioning this when?”
“I haven’t told that many people. Just Evan and Santos,” you said quickly. “I just haven’t decided anything yet. It’s the only offer I’ve gotten so far. I was waiting to see…”
She studied you for a moment. “You’re seriously considering leaving?”
The question landed heavier than you expected. “Yes, maybe…I don’t know. I’m not really sure yet. They want an answer pretty soon, though.”
Dana nodded slowly, processing your words, but something in her gaze sharpened, like she was connecting dots in her mind. You always knew her to be observant, and a part of you knew that she knew more about the situation than she led on.
“Well,” she said after a moment, her tone lighter, “that’s one way to shake things up around here.”
You smiled back at her, but it was forced, and you knew from the sad look in her eye that she knew it was, too.
Robby leaned against the nurses’ station, tablet in hand, and glasses perched on his nose. It was rare that he was fully caught up with patients, and a part of him felt restless, so he had found himself overthinking. About the overdue cleaning his home needed, then about the staffing needs for the following year, and that road always led him back to you.
Maybe it was selfish of him to want to keep you with him. But you were his best resident, his feelings for you aside. It only made sense to offer you that attending position.
Dana was beside him, typing something up, and his eyes flickered over to her.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“Oh, no,” she said, tone dry and she didn’t even bother looking up from what she was doing. He ignored the quip.
“About next year. Staffing.”
That certainly got her attention. She looked up, her hazel eyes locking with his. “Okay…”
“We’re going to need another attending,” he continued. “Someone who already knows the system, the pace. Someone who can handle the pressure.”
Dana watched him now, more carefully. “Who’d you have in mind?”
“I was thinking about offering it to her,” he said. He didn’t say your name, but he didn’t need to.
Dana’s brow lifted slightly. “That so?”
“She’s ready,” Robby added, more firmly. “More than ready. She’s one of the best to come around here.”
“I’m not arguing that,” Dana said, and then paused for a beat. He sensed that she had more to say, but she stayed quiet. His jaw tightened.
“But?...”
“But,” she added, turning fully towards him. “She got another offer.”
He stilled, almost reeling back from the shock of it. Thinking about it, he shouldn’t be shocked. He wouldn’t be surprised if you got a million other offers. But a part of him felt like he already had you, already had some sort of claim on you. But that didn’t stop the words from landing like a punch in the gut.
“From who?”
“Presby,” Dana said, watching him carefully.
“She’s… leaving?” he asked, his voice quieter.
“She hasn’t decided,” Dana clarified. “But it’s not hypothetical.”
Robby looked down at the tablet in his hands, the dark screen reflecting his face back at him. His brows were furrowed, and something similar to horror reflected back at him through his eyes. You might be leaving PTMC. You might be leaving him. And you hadn’t even mentioned anything.
“I was going to ask her to stay.” His voice was quiet and honest, and Dana’s expression softened, something akin to pity lining her features.
“You might want to do that soon,” she said.
Robby nodded slowly. It was a good opportunity. A smart choice; he knew that. But he felt himself start to spiral with images of you, of the distance between you, of you and Evan, and the emotional walls you both had built since he left. What was the phrase…right person, wrong time? He had debated coming back at all, but he did. The only thing he thought of during his sabbatical was you, the only reason he came back was you, but it still felt like he lost you.
He knew he was running out of time.
He didn’t confront you right away. Back-to-back traumas and the nonstop pace of the ED kept you both busy, and he wasn’t able to find a moment alone with you. The conversation would not be an easy one; he knew he had to get you alone, away from prying eyes and ears, if he hoped for any kind of raw honesty.
For you, the day felt like too much. Not only had you been completely humiliated in front of your coworkers, on top of dealing with your complicated feelings for Robby and the guilt over Evan, but you had a code.
The silence rang loud in your head, and you felt the weight of it, heavy and hollow, long after the monitors had flatlined. You had tried everything–you really had. The family’s faces flashed like echoes in your brain and every time you remembered them or the young girl on that hospital bed, your hands would shake and you wanted to vomit.
You sat in an empty consult room, the door shut, staring blankly at the wall. You tried to breathe through the tightness in your chest, your hands gripping tightly to the edge of the bed. You should be out there, working, charting, doing anything else. Maybe that would keep your mind off what had just happened, but your legs felt like lead and you stayed rooted in that spot.
You heard the door open behind you.
“I’m fine,” you said automatically, not turning back to see who had come to check on you. The door clicked shut and you swallowed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Your stomach dropped.
Robby.
You closed your eyes tightly, willing the burning in them to go away, before you turned to face him. His expression was tight, controlled in a way that told you he had been holding whatever it was in for a while.
“Told you what?”
“The offer. You leaving.”
Of course, he knew. You exhaled, slowly and controlled, trying to keep your emotions in check. You were already in a bad mental state; you didn’t need it to get worse, and you knew this conversation was not headed in a good direction.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you said, measuring your words.
“But you’ve been thinking about it,” he pressed.
You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’m heavily considering it.”
You could see the words land. It was subtle, but you knew Robby enough to see it. His head tilted slightly to the right, and his mouth tightened. His face twitched for a moment, his nose and eyes scrunching up before he ran a hand through his hair.
His eyes turned to steel and his jaw tightened. “Why?”
You breathed deeply. Control yourself. “It’s a great opportunity,” you said, nodding. “Better hours, better pay.”
He huffed out a cynical, disbelieving laugh and gave you a look, his eyebrows raised. He wasn’t buying it. Not even a little. Your chest tightened. You knew it wouldn’t be enough to convince him. You knew you were trying to convince yourself.
You shrugged, eyes shifting to the closed door behind him, needing to look away from his stare.
You knew he’d take it personally because it was personal. Fuck it.
“Come on, Robby,” you said, your voice thick now and you looked back at him. “We both know why.”
There was silence from him.
“It’s hard for me to be around you,” you finally admitted. The words were raw and unfiltered, and once you said them, the floodgates opened, and you let out everything you had been holding onto with an iron grip. “I have feelings for you. I’m sure you already figured that out.”
His eyes softened, and he shuffled a step closer to you, but you took a step back from him. He stopped short, gaze heavy on you.
“I don’t want to feel like this. I’m with Evan, and you were with Noelle, and you’re my boss. Everything is complicated. I don’t want to resent you, Robby. And I don’t want you to resent me. So I think the best thing for me to do is leave.” You took a deep breath, embarrassment and shame starting to fill you, and you looked away from his pleading eyes. “It’s what makes sense.”
The room felt too small. His presence loomed over you, filling the space with a heavy silence that roared loudly in your ears. You looked back at him, his eyes still glued to you.
Robby stared at you for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes.
“So you’re running away,” he finally said.
You didn’t know what you expected. Maybe he would have confessed his own feelings, maybe reassured you that things wouldn’t be complicated, comforted you over the rough day you were having. You would have broken up with Evan, and the two of you would be happy moving forward together. But he didn’t. He said you were running away, he was calling you a coward. The words hit a nerve you hadn’t realized was as exposed as it was.
Your head snapped up, anger filling you. “Yeah,” you fired back. “You’d know all about that.”
The second it left your mouth, you regretted it. He reeled back, eyes looking at you like he had never seen you before. But you didn’t take the words back. You didn’t apologize.
“What?”
“You leaving on your sabbatical, pretending you were okay. We all saw right through you, Robby. You couldn’t handle things, so you ran away like a coward.” The word vomit was hard to stop, and after every word, every syllable, you pleaded with yourself to shut up. But all the repressed feelings, all the heartbreak, were bubbling to the surface and overflowing.
“How fucking dare you?” He took a massive step towards you, his face so close to yours that you were breathing the same air. “That’s different, and you know it.”
“How?” you spat out.
Robby exhaled sharply. “I needed time away. I thought I was making the right choice.”
“I think I’m making the right choice, too. Maybe I need to be away from here, too. Away from you.”
“Why didn’t you say anything that night before I left?” he demanded. “If you felt like this, why didn’t you just say it?”
Your chest tightened painfully. He knew what you were going to say that night. The realization hit you hard in the gut, and you tried your best not to let it show on your face.
“I was going to. Until I saw you with Noelle.”
Robby’s brow furrowed. “That was nothing.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “Right.”
“It was,” he insisted. “You could’ve said something before that.”
“Oh, please,” you snapped, the frustration spilling over now, clear as day on your face as you snarled at him. “She was your three-month fix. Everyone knows your pattern. When exactly was I supposed to say anything? During Patricia? Rebecca?”
His expression hardened. “I get it.”
“When I saw Noelle, I realized things wouldn’t change. I didn’t want to be the next in line,” you finished.
Silence crashed down between you.
“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice low.
“Isn’t it?” you challenged. “You bounce from person to person, and I’m supposed to believe I’d be different? That if I made myself vulnerable for you, that you would change overnight into someone who wanted to commit?”
“I don’t do that anymore,” he said, his voice louder now. “And the only reason I ever did—” He cut himself off, and sighed, hands rising to rub the back of his neck in agitation. “The only reason I did is because I was afraid of what I felt for you.”
Your breath caught in your lungs.
“You wouldn’t have been a fix,” he added, quieter now. “It would’ve never been like that with you.”
You shook your head, stepping back slightly. “That’s easy to say now.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Maybe a part of me believed that before. Maybe that’s why I decided I was going tell you that night. But not anymore. You don’t get to decide that after the fact,” you said, voice cracking. “You don’t get to rewrite it because it’s convenient.”
“I’m not rewriting anything,” he snapped. “I’m telling you what I felt.”
“And what does that change?” you asked, tears burning in your eyes now. “You still left.”
“I didn’t know! And you’re the one running away now,” he fired back.
The words hit harder than they should have, because he was right. He practically admitted he had feelings for you, and you were still leaving. Maybe it could be easy, but the words echoed in your head. I’m telling you what I felt. Felt. You never had him, and you never would.
You both fell silent for a moment. Your breathing was uneven, and a tear finally escaped. You saw his hand twitch, almost as if he was going to wipe it away, but he didn’t.
“I thought…” you started, then stopped, swallowing hard. “I thought if you felt the same way, you would’ve said something first. That you wouldn’t fall into someone else’s bed so easily.”
He was silent, and your chest ached painfully. The distance felt impossibly large now; a chasm wedged deeply between the two of you.
“I can’t keep doing this,” you said, voice breaking, and the tears kept falling. “I can’t keep standing here wondering what this is, what it could’ve been, what we missed.”
Robby’s expression softened, and he whispered your name, but it was too late. The damage was already there.
“I’m trying to do what’s best for me,” you continued.
“And leaving is the only option?” he asked, and he sounded almost as broken as you felt inside.
“I can’t be around you,” you said. “It hurts too much. It’s the only option that makes sense.”
It was the only option that made sense. Even if it made everything inside of you scream with agony. Even if it felt like you were giving up. You had called him a coward, but maybe you were just projecting. And still–it was the only option that made sense.
Silence settled again, heavy and final.
Robby nodded slowly, forcing himself to accept something he didn’t agree with.
“Okay,” he said. The words felt wrong–too easy, too empty and you hated it. You hated that you hurt him. You hated that he hurt you too. You hated that you desperately wished that he would fight harder for you. But you were too tired, too burned out, and your heart too raw to even try.
“Okay,” you echoed, even though it wasn’t okay at all.
He lingered for a second longer, like he had more to say, like he couldn’t look away from you because it would be too hard. But he didn’t say anything. He never did.
He turned and walked out, the door closing behind him with a devastating finality. And you were left standing there, chest tight, eyes swollen and teary, the weight of everything pressing down at once.
The humiliation from earlier. The tension with Evan. The patient. The fight. Robby.
By the time you finally moved, it was only because you had to, not because anything was resolved. Nothing ever was with him.
It seemed that whenever your life went bad, the universe decided to make it even worse.
Your apartment was quiet that night. Evan sat in front of you at the dinner table, but your eyes remained glued to the plate in front of you. You had barely touched it, your appetite completely gone. It was barely eight, and at this time, you would normally be found yapping away about your day, smiling and giggling at your boyfriend. But not that night.
Evan watched you for a long moment, like he was building up the courage to say something. When he finally did, a part of you wanted to shrivel up and die, for the earth beneath you to open up and swallow you whole.
“You love him,” he said. There was no anger in his voice, no accusation being levied against you. He was simply stating a fact, something he knew to be true without anyone having to say anything. He noticed the way your energy shifted when Robby’s name came up. The way your eyes followed him without meaning to. The way you went quiet after interacting with him, like you were holding something fragile inside your chest.
It made your heart drop lower than it already was.
You shook your head instinctively, tears of shame coming too easily. “Evan—“. You stopped yourself, unsure of what to say and your breath heaved.
“Hey,” he said, rising from his seat and approaching you gently. He kneeled in front of you, his hands reaching forward to hold yours, and he squeezed them in a gentle assurance. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie to spare me.”
The tears escaped, and your heart was beating way too hard, making it difficult to breathe properly. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“I know,” he said softly. One of his hands went to the back of your head, gently running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to calm you down, but it only made you feel worse. “I know you wanted to make this work.”
Your throat was tight, too tight to force any words out, so you just nodded through the tears.
“I think that if he wasn’t in the picture, it might have.” That statement hurt you more than anything. You sobbed louder, raising your hands to cover your face in shame, but you didn’t deny it. His hand ran down your spine in comfort.
“You look at him differently,” he said. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked at me that way. And I need someone who’s all in. And so do you.” He was being gentle with you and the shame you felt was nearly overwhelming you. He was the one getting hurt, the one whose trust you betrayed, and yet he was the one comforting you.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” you sobbed out, face hiding in your hands.
“Dragging this out would hurt me more,” he said gently.
“I’m so sorry,” you said and you knew you were hyperventilating. He gently ran his hand down your back and helped you focus on his breathing, trying to calm you down. It was a few minutes of that, of you calming down enough to be able to breathe properly. Your face felt swollen and you knew your eyes were probably red and puffy.
“You deserve so much better,” you said, shaking your head. Disappointed in yourself. You thought he was right. If Robby hadn’t been in the picture, you would’ve so easily fallen in love with him.
He shook his head. “We both deserve someone who loves us fully.” You sat in silence at that, the words seeping into your brain.
“I guess there’s nothing holding me back here,” you finally said.
“Isn’t there?”
You shook your head.
“I don’t think there’s a chance there. Not anymore. And I might be leaving. Things just got so complicated,” you sighed. Evan squeezed your hand and you looked into his calm, blue eyes.
“I think you know where your heart is,” he said. You closed your eyes briefly, the truth settling into your chest like a ton of lead, heavy and inevitable. “I don’t think the decision is as hard as you think it might be. But you need to figure it out. You need to make your choice.”
And just like that, he let you go with a grace you didn’t deserve. He left after that, leaving you in a silent apartment. The air conditioning hummed, the only sound that filled your ears as you sat on your couch, your mind moving a million miles a minute.
When had you lost control of every aspect of your life? Today was a bad day–the worst one in a long time. One where everything that could go wrong, had gone wrong. Robby and you started speaking again, tentatively and carefully, he had even defended you. But then he found out about you potentially leaving. You got in a fight. Evan left you. It was a shitshow.
It was the most alone you felt. The knot at the back of your throat grew again, the tears slipping past your blurred vision and you didn’t think before you got up, grabbing your keys, and made your way to the bar three blocks down.
The soft, jukebox music was nearly drowned out by the loud chatter from the pool tables. You sat at the corner of the bar, alone and surely a sad sight for anyone that looked over. Your eyes were fixated on the glass of whisky in front of you. You had taken a sip, the alcohol burning down your throat and grimaced, wondering why in the fuck you had ordered whisky when you didn’t even like it. Maybe it was from some masochistic need to make yourself suffer as much physically as you were mentally. Maybe it was because a subconscious part of you knew it was Robby’s drink of choice.
You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut and hanging your head at the thought of him.
How did everything get so fucked? You had everything lined up perfectly. A new job with great pay was presented to you on a silver platter. You had an incredible, attractive, kind boyfriend. And yet…you loved working at PTMC. You loved the chaos and thrived on the adrenaline. You loved the people. You loved Robby. And no matter how attentive or sweet or perfect Evan was, he just wasn’t him.
The seat next to you filled, a shadow slipping over you and you sighed. All you wanted right then was to be left alone. You didn’t want to deal with some drunk reveler who would find it difficult to take no for an answer. You turned, ready to tell the stranger to fuck off, but the person sitting there, smiling gently at you was a shock to your system.
Noelle.
She looked beautiful, as she always did and a small part of you felt even worse at that. A short black dress hugged her figure like it was made for her and her hair was perfectly curled. You shifted, suddenly conscious of your day-old scrubs, probably covered in bodily fluids, and the messy bun on top of your head. You felt exhausted and you were sure your face showed it.
“Oh, hi, Noelle,” you said.
“I thought it was you,” she answered, smiling gently. The bartender approached the two of you and she smiled at him, ordering a cosmo for herself.
You couldn’t think of anything to say, and found yourself blurting the first thing that came to your mind. “Come here often?”
She laughed slightly and looked back at you.
“I’m here with a few friends. Figured I’d come say hi.” She peered closer at you, her eyes examining you in a way that made you feel like she could read every thought in your mind.
“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you, it just gets so busy at the hospital. I’m glad I ran into you here,” she said. “Happy coincidence.”
Happy coincidence–yeah, right. Your stomach tightened and you wanted the earth to open up and sink you down to the core. You wanted to disappear off the face of the planet. Maybe you would try applying to a hospital far, far away. California was nice, you heard. Maybe even Alaska. Wasn’t there some kind of tax benefit for living there?
You cleared your throat, willing your straying thoughts away. “About what?” you asked, hesitant.
The bartender placed the drink in front of her and she took a sip before looking back at you. “About Robby.”
You froze, your fingers tightening around the hard glass of the drink in front of you just to have something to occupy your shaking hands.
“I’m not sure what happened there, Noelle,” you said honestly. “But I’m sorry if I–”
She cut you off, waving a hand out. “That’s not what this is.”
You blinked, thrown for a loop and confusion settled deep. You didn’t know what to say, so you waited for her to continue.
She sighed, breaking eye contact and took another, larger sip of her drink.
“I saw that breakup coming from a mile away.”
The three-month fix. It was an unspoken rumor at the hospital, one that you were sure the woman sitting next to you had heard about and possibly been warned about in the past.
“What does that have to do with me?”
She looked at you, an eyebrow raised. “Come on, doc. We both know the answer to that. The way he looks at you? I never noticed until I walked in on the two of you the night he left. I knew nothing happened, but I felt so angry. So inadequate. I gave him shit for it and he denied it, but I know what I saw. I realized then why he could never give himself over to me emotionally–not the way I wanted or needed him to. He looks at you like he loves you.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest, anxiety swirling in your gut at her words. You hadn’t imagined it, then. Everything leading up to that moment in the breakroom, right before your heart shattered in your chest–the soft glances and shy smiles and quiet moments of closeness were not one-sided. His words from earlier echoed in your mind, like a rewinding tape. “I was afraid of what I felt for you.” He was being honest with you, he was opening up to you then and you shut him out.
“I’m sorry,” you said, not knowing what else you could tell her to make her feel better. “I never meant to hurt you.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault. Feelings are complicated.” She took another sip from her cosmo while your whisky sat untouched on the wooden counter in front of you. She looked at you, her brown eyes shining in the dim, twinkling lights of the bar and her expression was serious and earnest.
She said your name before continuing. “I don’t blame you for what happened with me and Robby. I don’t think it was anyone’s fault. Except maybe his.” You both chuckled quietly at that. “I ended up resenting him by the end, until I finally accepted that I wasn’t the one he really wanted. Don’t do what we did. Don’t wait until it’s over to be honest with each other.”
You sighed, thinking back to the argument you had with Robby.
“I think it may be too late for that. I don’t think there’s a chance there anymore.” Your gaze shifted back to the full glass and you sighed in resignation.
She placed her hand gently on your shoulder and you looked back at her. “If I’m right–and I usually am–that man is crazy about you. I think there’s more of a chance there than you think.”
She stood, grabbing her drink. “Go home,” she said, placing a twenty in front of your drink and gesturing to the bartender. “You look like you’re about to pass out from exhaustion. And just…think about what I said, okay?”
You nodded, and her answering smile was almost sad, before you turned and walked back to her group of friends.
You sat there for a moment, thoughts racing in your head and heart thumping hard in your chest, before you stood and headed back to your apartment.
Dawn came quickly after a short night of restless sleep and you woke up to the shrill sound of your phone alarm blaring in your ear. You instantly regretted going out the previous night. The late night coupled with the emotional turmoil you felt made the exhaustion so heavy in your bones that you heavily considered calling out, which you had never done unless you had been seriously ill.
You laid in the comforting warmth of your bed for a moment, staring at the oscillating fan on your ceiling. You counted to five slowly before forcing yourself up and going through the motions of getting ready for the day.
You started to make yourself a coffee, black and strong, knowing that it would be a heavily caffeinated day, but stopped short when you grabbed the mug from your cabinet. It wasn’t anything special, just a mug–white, with the phrase “residency sucks” printed on it–but Robby had given it to you. He had gotten you for Secret Santa the previous December, and there had been several gag gifts leading up to the actual gift exchange, including the mug. It was stupid and silly, and it would have normally lived in the back of your cabinet until you forgot about it completely, but Robby had gifted it to you. It felt special. It was the mug you found yourself reaching for nearly every morning, a small part of you feeling closer to the man who seemed further away than ever before.
Your thoughts drifted to him–his gentle, sad brown eyes and how upset he had been at the thought of you leaving. And despite your hurt pride, you realized that he was right. You were running away. And it wouldn’t fix anything. In fact, it would probably make the both of you more miserable.
You sighed, chugging the dark drink quickly and made your way out of your apartment. Your thoughts kept drifting to him on your walk to the hospital, and you knew that Evan was right. You had to make your choice. There could be no more waiting or procrastinating. You were either going to risk it all, forgive him for the past two months and build something new with him, or you were going to leave. Both choices scared the shit out of you, but only one made your heart leap with unbridled hope. Only one choice was the right one in your heart.
You walked in through the ambulance bay, avoiding the building crowd in the waiting room, and your eyes immediately drifted to him. He was standing at a computer, glasses perched on his nose, and you found him already looking at you. The space between your gazes was charged, unspoken words lingering between the two of you.
A part of you wanted to cower away, but you didn’t and neither did he. You stared at him and decided then and there. No more almosts. You needed closure. Whether it completely ended whatever this thing was between the two of you and you could finally move on, or whether you got everything you could selfishly wish for. Time had run out and you were not about to make a coward’s choice.
You took a deep breath, approaching him. The scent of his cologne invaded your senses and you almost purred at the comfort that being this close to him brought you.
“I need to talk to you.”
He swallowed and nodded. “Is it about a patient or work related?”
You tilted your head, your remaining fixed on him. “No.”
He sighed, resigned, and then nodded. “Fine, we can talk later tonight. Let’s try to focus on work for now.”
You sighed, but relented, knowing he was right. “Okay, we’ll talk later.”
He was avoiding you. He knew that you could tell, if the looks you were shooting at him all day were any indication, but if he was honest with himself, he was terrified to speak with you. He had no idea what intentions you had, whether you were going to tell him you were never coming back and never wanted to see him again, or…
He stopped his thoughts short, unwilling to even think about the other possibility. The thought of that–of him having you, loving you–was nothing but a fantasy he dreamed up every night and he refused to give himself any false hope.
He knew he needed to apologize for his reaction yesterday, knew that you were conflicted and scared and hurt and the things he had said didn’t make anything better. But he was a coward, foolishly in love with one of his residents, and so he was avoiding you.
You were in a patient’s room and he finally sighed with relief, making his way to the nurses’ station to finally catch up on his charting while he had the chance. Dana was there, looking over some paperwork and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Any updates on our girl leaving?”
He sighed at the reminder and shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Hm, I thought there might’ve been since you’ve been avoiding her all day.”
Robby looked at Dana then, an incredulous expression on his face. “What? I’m not avoiding her.”
She barked out a laugh. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”
He looked back down to the screen in front of him, trying to focus, but his thoughts were too jumbled. He sighed in frustration and ran both hands through his hair.
“I don’t know what the fuck to do.”
“Yeah, I think you do, you’re just too scared to do it.”
“Dana–” he started, but she cut him off and fixed him with hard look.
“If you let her leave without being honest with her, you’re an idiot. But you already know that. You’re in love with that girl and she’s in love with you. And whatever bullshit is going on right now between the two of you is just that–bullshit. You’re making each other miserable when you can just be honest with each other.”
He sighed, knowing his friend was right, but a part of him still hesitated. It wasn’t that simple. The offer was still in the way, the possibility of you leaving lingered in the air, and then there was the fact that you were dating Evan.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, or whatever the fuck the expression was. He stood in the patient room with Dr. Evan Greene as he was finishing up a consult. He tried to focus, and he caught the important information, like the tests that Dr. Greene needed to be done for the patient and all that, but his thoughts kept drifting to you and the man in front of him.
Evan Greene was a good man; Robby didn’t doubt that. He had always been kind and respectful of him and the residents and enjoyed teaching them. He never reprimanded them when they got something wrong and had the patience of a saint. He was young and handsome, if the way the nurses drooled after him was any indication. He tried to be happy for you. He really did. But the bitter taste of jealousy and envy threatened to devour him from the inside out every time he looked at the man.
Both men walked out together and Robby caught a glimpse of you as you spoke to Whitaker. You looked as beautiful as you always did, but the dark circles under your eyes were more prominent than usual and he didn’t fail to notice that you had drank two cups of coffee and were halfway through an energy drink and it was barely three in the afternoon.
“Greene,” he said and the man turned his blue gaze to him. Robby tilted his head towards you. “You should take her out for a break. She looks exhausted.”
Evan’s eyes widened and a blush creped up his cheeks. He looked almost awkward, the most uncomfortable he had ever seen the man, and Robby paused at the expression. Had something happened?
Evan shook his head, tearing his eyes away from you and looking back at Robby. “Um, we broke up last night.”
Robby’s head snapped towards the younger man in shock. “What?” He hadn’t been expecting that.
“Yeah, it was kind of a mutual thing. I just realized she could never give herself fully to me.” He paused for a moment, hesitating before continuing. “Because of you.”
Robby’s spine straightened. “Excuse me?”
“She’s in love with you. Has been for a while. And after you left, I felt like I finally had a chance. She asked me out, and how could I say no? She’s gorgeous, and smart, and funny. But when you came back, I realized the truth. I never had a chance.”
Robby stayed silent, thoughts racing in every direction.
“She’s a gem,” Evan continued. “And you’re one lucky son of a bitch. Don’t fuck it up with her.”
He walked away then, leaving Robby stewing in his thoughts. Something dropped heavily in his chest, like a rock being thrown into a pond, and he felt something click in his mind, then. Nothing was standing in the way of you and him now. That offer letter was still on the table, but you hadn’t officially accepted anything and he wasn’t about to be the reason you left. The hesitation and anguish that clouded every thought of you for the past few weeks cleared away, a sudden clarity opening the path forward. A path he hadn’t allowed himself to think about. A path where he chose his happiness, where he chose you.
He would speak with you that night and he was going to make sure you knew exactly where he stood with you. What he wanted with you and what you meant to him. He would tell you exactly how much the past few months had been torture because he loved you so much but felt like he couldn’t have you. But now–he was going to let himself have you. He was going to let himself open that door if that was what you wanted, too.
He watched as you walked away from Whitaker. Almost as if you had sensed him, you glanced back, your eyes meeting his. They looked sad and tired, but determined. He wasn’t quite sure what you saw in his, but your back straightened and your mouth opened slightly, like you were going to say something, but didn’t. He smiled at you, and you blinked, quickly looking away and headed towards a computer to chart.
He didn’t look away and as you sat, you looked back at him once more, quickly turning away when you caught him. He smiled again to himself and turned, walking towards a patient room. Tonight. He would speak to you tonight.
A part of you was unnerved and another was confused. He was looking at you again. Staring, more like it and the look in his eyes didn’t scream scared or sad. His expression was calm and deep and open. Your heart thundered in your chest, wondering what happened, what changed in the past few hours, why he was looking at you like that.
Not that you minded. Everytime your gazes met, he would smile, giving you a look that made butterflies erupt low in your belly and your heart fill with more hope than you knew what to do with.
You imagined it would always be hard with him. But this–this ease that seemed to seep into the both of you with barely a word spoken between the two of you was unexpected. You liked it a lot.
The day passed quicker than usual, and you were thankful. Only the adrenaline of the impending conversation kept you upright. You saw Abbot come in and glanced around, looking for Robby.
A throat cleared behind you and you turned, your heart jumping in your chest.
“Hi,” you said.
He smiled. And, god, you felt like melting. He had such a beautiful smile. “Hey.”
The two of you stared at each other in silence for a paused moment.
“Let me debrief with Abbot, then we can talk, okay? Meet me on the roof?”
You nodded, and as he walked past you his hand brushed softly against yours. You glanced at him, unsure if it had been an accident, but he was already staring at you, the corners of his mouth lifted.
You swallowed before speaking. “See you there.”
You made it to the roof, the cold breeze brushing past your face. Winter was approaching and even the smell of the crisp air was changing. You huffed a breath out, steeling yourself for what was about to come. Closure. For better or worse, this was it. No more beating around the bush, no more avoidance. Just you and Robby.
The heavy metal door opened and then slammed shut. His footsteps echoed as he approached you and you took your eyes off the skyline and turned to face him. The setting sun set everything alight in golden hues and as he got closer, his eyes shined like molten gold. You almost sighed at the dreamy sight.
You stood staring at each other for a moment before he spoke.
“This isn’t going to go like last time. Not again,” he said, gesturing between the two of you.
You nodded. “Agreed. All I want is for us to finally be honest with each other.”
“Me, too.”
You took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“Well, that’s not all I want,” he said and took a step closer. You swallowed, nervous, but a spark of anticipation lit within you at his boldness.
You huffed out a laugh and smirked at him. “We’ll see.”
He chuckled, looking down and shaking his head before looking back at you.
He turned serious and he spoke again, his voice raspy. “I can’t let you go without saying this. You almost did before, and I knew what you were going to say then because I felt it, too. I’ve gone over that conversation a million times, because I know there was so much that was left unsaid and it kills me to know that. I was a coward. I was scared that if I’d reach for you, I’d ruin you. Or myself. Or both of us. So I looked for something that could make me feel something anywhere else, with women I could never see a future with because every time I tried to picture it, all I could ever see was your face.”
You swallowed, burning behind your eyes, but didn’t dare speak since he looked like he had more to say. You took a step closer, close enough that you could smell his faded cologne and feel his soft breath on your skin and the warmth emanating from him.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he continued, his voice rougher and deeper, like he was trying to hold back tears.
“I don’t want to leave either,” you finally said, your voice low and quiet.
His chest rose a little faster at that and his eyes stayed glued to yours, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he even blinked. The air shifted again between the two of you. There was no interruption waiting behind the break room door. No argument or anger or resentment brewing in an empty patient room. No excuses left for either one of you.
Just you and him and the setting sun behind the Pittsburgh skyline.
“I love you,” he said and you let out a shaky breath. His eyes shone with unshed tears as he continued. “I should’ve told you a long time ago, but things were complicated. I couldn’t let myself admit it to you or to myself. I made myself think it was nothing, but I was wrong. Because it’s not nothing. It’s everything. You’re everything. You matter more to me than anyone.”
His voice broke, a tear finally escaping his eye, and he hastily wiped it away. The burning sensation intensified in your eyes and you know he saw the tears waiting there.
“I wish I had been as brave as you,” he said. “The night I left. You were going to tell me and I fucked it up like I fuck up most things. I got scared and I ran away. You were right in calling me a coward.”
You shook your head, hand reaching out to grab his and he let you.
“No, Robby, I wasn’t. I’m so sorry. I never should’ve said the things that I did. I was hurt and I lashed out at you. You never owed me anything.”
His answering chuckle was shaky and watery. He pulled your hand up and pressed a kiss against the dry skin of your knuckles.
“I think we both did things that hurt the other. Because we were cowards, afraid of what this thing between us could be. Because we felt like the timing was never right. But right now, there’s nothing holding me back from you. Is there something holding you back from me?”
The words landed between the two of you, undeniable, and your breath caught at the unbridled hope in his eyes. You took another step closer, so close that your chests almost pressed against each other, and felt another tear stream down your face. His other hand, large and rough, raised up and gently wiped the tear away, his fingers caressing the soft skin of your face. You shuttered a breath at the feel of him so close. Close enough that you could see every detail of his handsome face–the smile lines, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the hope and uncertainty and love in his eyes.
“No,” you said. “Nothing. I don’t want any more what-ifs. I choose you, Robby.”
His breath shuttered and he closed his eyes in relief. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his nose gently brushing against yours and you smiled. His entire face softened–relief, disbelief, and something akin to wonder shining through the planes of his face.
“I choose you, too. You’re all I want.”
A moment passed in silence, a beat of respite and acceptance.
“Stay. Please. The attending position is yours if you want it.”
You snickered in amusement. “Perks of being with the boss?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Please; that position has been yours for years. Dana and Abbot will have my ass if I let you leave.”
You giggled, hands raising to rest gently on his shoulders. His hands grasped the curve of your waist, pulling you closer and warming you from the chilly air.
“Okay,” you said. “Only because you begged a little.”
“Brat,” he gritted out and you both laughed.
“I guess you better start getting used to it,” you said.
He smiled, eyes shining in true happiness and you didn’t think you’d ever seen him so openly blissful.
“Happily.”
His hand lifted, hesitating just slightly, like he was still giving you enough space to pull away. You didn’t. The thought was unfathomable in your mind.
Instead, you closed the remaining distance between the two of you. You leaned up, pressing your lips to his, and his large hand settled against your cheek, warm and steady. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was firm and real and soft, and made your heart explode in your chest. He kissed you like he was savoring you, and you felt your knees grow weak. You broke apart for a second, panting breaths mingling and smiles stretching across both of your faces, and then he leaned down again, his fingers sliding down your jaw and to your neck, and you relished in the feeling of finally being in his arms. Of finally being his.
I Almost Do (Part 3) - Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader
Summary: Things were complicated after Robby returned. Too complicated. With a job offer on the table and a boyfriend, you still find it hard to stop thinking about Robby. To stop thinking about the what-ifs.
Notes: hiiii, so sorry that this took forever. i've been enjoying time with my family and friends, and have gotten back into reading, so writing took a backseat. this also ended up being so long that it took me forever to finish. also, this is the final part of this series. i hope you enjoy!!
Part 1 Part 2
It was a rare, slow afternoon. Not entirely quiet, it never was, but slow enough that people were leaning against walls and counters instead of rushing, laughing with each other for longer than they should, and sipping on coffee instead of chugging it down. No one said anything about it in fear of invoking the dreaded hospital curse. If someone mentioned anything, the rare peace would dissipate.
You were at the nurses’ station, logged into a computer and doing some much-needed catching up on your charting, half-listening to Donnie and Mateo argue about some football game.
You felt his presence before he said anything. It was strange, almost like you were hard-wired with a sixth sense for him.
He stopped in front of you, a hand tapping on the counter next to you.
“Robby,” you said, acknowledging him without looking up from your screen.
He said your name in return, and you sensed the smile on his face. “I need a second opinion.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Wow,” he said. “Didn’t even ask what it’s about.”
You finally glanced up, no longer fighting the urge to see his charming smile, and raised one brow. “Is it for a diagnosis?”
“No.”
“Alright, then it’s regarding either a bad idea or a worse one.”
You heard Donnie snicker quietly behind you.
Robby pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m offended.”
“You’ll survive,” you said, turning back to your screen, a smile on your face.
“Debatable,” he muttered, then leaned his forearms on the counter across from you. “Are you gonna help me or not?”
You sighed in fake annoyance and looked at him again. His smile was still on his face, the corners of his brown eyes crinkled, and you fought the urge to look away when your heartbeat increased. “Alright, lay it on me, Robinavitch.”
He studied you for a second, long enough that it made something inside of you jolt.
“If someone brings in donuts,” he said, “but doesn’t explicitly say they’re for everyone, is it morally acceptable to take one?”
You blinked, stunned into silence for a moment.
“…That’s your crisis?”
“It’s an ethical gray area,” he insisted, and the incredulous laughter escaped you before you could stop it.
“You’re asking me,” you said slowly, “if you’re allowed to take a donut.”
“Will I be judged for it?”
“Oh, absolutely. Especially by me,” you said immediately, the smile lingering on your face.
“Wow.” He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
You finally closed out the chart, giving him your full attention. “Just take one, Robby. If they didn’t want people to take them, they shouldn’t have left them there.”
“And risk ruining my reputation?”
“You don’t have one,” you shot back.
He grinned wide and unguarded at that, and a part of you marvelled at just how easy it was between the two of you.
“Okay,” he said. “Hypothetical follow-up. If I take one,” he continued, leaning in slightly, voice dropping like this was suddenly serious, “and bring you one, does that improve my standing?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you trying to bribe me?”
“Is it working?”
You held his gaze a second too long. There was something lingering in it, playful, but also intentional and focused in a way that felt different than how he was with everyone else. Your pulse skipped in your chest at the fact that you noticed, that he made it easy for you to notice. You looked away first.
“Depends on the donut.” You were trying hard to be nonchalant, and you wondered if he could tell.
He straightened, triumphant. “So that’s a yes.”
“That’s a maybe.”
“Good enough.”
He pushed off the counter and headed toward the break room. You told yourself to go back to charting; you were backlogged four patients from the morning rush, and you didn’t want to stay after your shift to catch up. You didn’t, though. You watched him instead, the way he joked with Dana in passing as he made his way into the break room. He grabbed and opened the bright pink box of donuts like he was fully aware he was committing a minor crime, and you bit your lip to hold in your giggle. He glanced back over his shoulder and caught your eye, winking at you.
You quickly dropped your gaze, heat creeping up your neck.
When he returned, he set a napkin down in front of you. You glanced down. It was your favorite…of course it was.
“You look like a chocolate frosting person,” he said.
You frowned slightly. “That was a bold assumption.”
“I’m a bold guy,” he replied.
You picked it up anyway, taking a bite just to prove a point. He was watching you, a knowing glimmer in his eye, almost as if he knew that he was right.
You sighed in mock resignation. “It’s acceptable.”
He grinned. “Oh, come on. Everyone’s a chocolate frosting kind of person.”
You finally let out the laugh you’d been holding in, taking another bite of the dessert, and he kept his eyes on you. You felt a bit embarrassed, but a part of you bristled at the attention. It felt good to have his eyes on you.
“You do this with everyone?” you asked after a pause, gesturing between the two of you.
“What, risk my professional integrity for baked goods?”
“No,” you said. “This.”
His expression shifted slightly. It softened, the mischievous glint going away, but his focused gaze remained firmly on you.
“No,” he said. The answer landed differently than you expected. Your stomach flipped and your breath caught in your chest at the sudden realization that hit you.
“Oh,” you said before you could stop yourself.
He tilted his head. “Oh?”
You shook your head quickly, looking back down at the screen you were definitely not working on anymore. “Nothing.”
But it was not nothing. Because something clicked into place. An overwhelming realization that you should have seen coming, because it felt so certain and obvious.
You liked him. More than you should. More than a resident should like their attending. The sudden clarity left you slightly disoriented, and you realized that it might be a problem…a big one. But a part of you didn't entirely mind.
Things used to be so easy. The flirty banter was almost second nature for you and Robby, and you looked forward to his quips every day. You used to wake up excited for the day ahead. But now, dread settled into your gut every morning since he returned, knowing you had to go into work and see him. You knew you shouldn’t. You slept next to your boyfriend–sweet, kind, and undeniably hot Evan. But your first thoughts when you woke up were not of him. They were of soft, doe brown eyes, a raspy voice, and the self-depricating man they belonged to.
It was almost like Robby was haunting you.
You walked into the hospital, the blast of air-conditioning greeting you, and you found it funny that the entrance, the busy waiting room full of sick, pissed-off people, was the only part of the building you ever felt calm in these days. The rest of it–the nurses’ station, the break room, the hub and ambulance bay–it all felt as much of a prison as your own thoughts.
And he was there, in the center of it, his eyes already on you like you were a siren calling to him.
It had been a week since he spoke with you in the breakroom. A week since your thoughts could not stop swirling with his words and the implications behind them.
There were things I should’ve said before I left.
A hand found itself on the small of your back, and you glanced behind you, guilt overwhelming you at the sight of Evan’s smile. The smile that you should be thinking of.
“Gotta head up, now. Have a good day, babe.”
“Yeah, you, too,” you said, forcing a smile on your face.
He nodded, the easy smile still on his face, but his eyes flickered behind you to where Robby was standing. He looked back at you and nodded before turning and heading towards the elevators. You knew he could sense something, a shift that happened to you whenever Robby was around, but he had not said anything, not even the night he saw the two of you in the break room.
You made your way to the hub, your feet dragging beneath you like you had cinderblocks attached to them, and you ignored the pit in your stomach the closer you got to him.
“Morning,” he said, initiating the conversation like he had every day since he came back.
You looked up to the med board, trying to distract yourself with the list of patients.
“Hi,” you said, not sparing him a glance even though every cell in your body was screaming at you to just look at him.
You felt his gaze on you, steady and unrelenting, and a part of you was growing used to the feeling of him watching you. It was familiar and oddly comforting. You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t mean anything. But you felt his eyes linger on you every day since he came back, the soft look in his gaze feeling heavier and more momentous since he almost said what he felt for you.
There was no denying it. You ran through that conversation in your head again and again, trying to find some other meaning to the words that he said, but you couldn’t. There were things you should’ve said before he left, too–things you were going to say, but things were so different now. So much more complicated.
“Hey,” he said, dragging your attention back to the present moment as he slid closer to you. “You okay?”
Your stomach tightened at his proximity, and your fists clenched at your side. Evan. His name was on repeat in your brain for the last week, an effort to remind yourself of the sweet man and to stop yourself from reaching towards what you shouldn’t have. What you couldn’t have.
“Yeah,” you answered quickly, your eyes finally shifting towards him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged, hands stuffed casually into his pockets, but his voice lowered slightly when he spoke again. “You seem quiet.”
“Just getting my day started,” you said, and you cursed the defensive tone that bled into your words.
He raised a brow. “Right. Sure.” He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed loosely, and he didn’t seem convinced. “It just seems like since I came back, things are different. I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you.” He wasn’t intense or confrontational. It seemed like a genuine effort to make things less awkward between the two of you. You supposed it was part of his job as the head attending to make sure that there was no friction between the two of you.
You swallowed the knot at the back of your throat and nodded. “I know.”
You were hyper aware of him and the space between the two of you, or lack thereof. He was so close that his warmth was emanating on you. Your eyes strayed to him for a second too long, and your gazes met. For a moment, the rest of the hospital faded. The loud ambulance sirens weakened to a quiet hum. The loud conversations and movements slowed to a blur.
Your brain scrambled itself, trying to think of something to say, but thankfully, you didn’t need to. Paramedics came rushing in from the ambulance bay, wheeling in a middle-aged man on a stretcher. And then the two of you rushed into action, moving towards your first patient of the day.
It was twenty-five minutes later when the two of you emerged from Trauma One. You breathed a sigh of relief. You managed to stabilize the patient, although he was still symptomatic. A part of you was also glad that, despite your personal situation with Robby, the two of you worked as well together as you always had. Like true partners, a perfect fit that worked efficiently.
You cleared your throat.
“You were awesome in there,” you said. Robby looked at you, a shine in his eyes, and he smiled. A true smile–one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made his cheekbones rise.
“High praise,” he teased.
Your lips twitched slightly. “Don’t let it get to your head. Your ego is huge enough already.”
He chuckled. “Too late.”
You playfully rolled your eyes and, for a moment, it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed.
“You think I was right to page cardio?” you asked, second-guessing yourself. “He's stable now; maybe it’s unnecessary.”
He shook his head. “It was the right choice. He’s still symptomatic.”
You nodded and smiled at him. It was a small, hesitant smile, but the shift in him was obvious immediately. He seemed brighter, almost happier, although he tried to contain it. He nodded at you before he was pulled in a different direction, and you grabbed another patient, a calm settling within you. Maybe the rest of the day wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe things didn’t have to stay as awkward as they had been.
But that was all wishful thinking.
You were reviewing labs, double-checking orders for your new patient. You had been almost positive it was a routine UTI, but the labs just confirmed it. Perlah was next to you, and both of you started to make your way to the patient’s room when a sharp, impatient voice cut through the floor.
“Who put in this consult? For Justin Ketos?”
You looked up at the sound of your patient’s name.
Dr. Kane stood at the counter, chart in hand, irritation written into every line of his face. He was known for this. He was a brilliant cardiologist, one of the best, but his moods were unpredictable.
You cleared your throat, and his eyes snapped to you.
“That was me,” you said, keeping your tone even as you stepped forward. Perlah stiffened behind you, and her hand tightened around your wrist before quickly letting go.
He flipped a page, scoffing. “Why would you page me for this?”
You blinked. Maybe you were right to second-guess yourself earlier. You quickly glanced around, trying to spot Robby, but you couldn’t see him. “His troponins were elevated, and—”
“They’re borderline,” he cut in, louder. Heads started to turn in your direction, and you felt heat creep up the back of your neck in embarrassment. “This doesn’t warrant a stat consult.”
Your stomach tightened, but you held your ground. “His EKG changed from baseline, and he’s still symptomatic. I followed protocol.”
“Protocol,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. “Or panic?”
You took a steadying breath. “I made a clinical decision based on his presentation.”
“And you’ve wasted my time. Great job,” he snapped. “Do you have any idea how many unnecessary consults like this I get in a day?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but his harsh words didn’t relent.
“This is exactly the problem,” he said, gesturing with the chart. “People who don’t fully understand what they’re looking at overreact and escalate things they shouldn’t.”
The words landed harder than they should. You knew you were right. You knew it. Robby had confirmed it. But someone speaking to you like that, humiliating you in front of everyone, made something in your chest twist, and you felt burning in your eyes.
“I didn’t overreact,” you said, quieter but firm. “I did my job.”
He laughed, short and dismissive. “If this is your idea of doing your job, maybe you need to—”
“Hey.” It wasn’t loud, but the raspy voice cut through the tension. Robby.
He stepped in beside you, his presence immediately grounding. He was close enough that his arm brushed against yours, and you bit your tongue, because a part of you felt like you were about to burst into tears.
Dr. Kane turned his attention to the older man, already irritated. “What?”
Robby’s expression was calm and controlled.
“Do not speak to my resident like that,” he said, solid and steady. You knew him well enough to sense the simmering anger beneath the surface. His hands clenched at his side, his mouth twitched, and his head tilted to the side.
Kane scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Robby replied evenly. “If you have a concern about the consult, we can discuss it professionally. But you don’t get to come in here and talk down to one of my best doctors.”
A beat passed in silence, and your heart swelled in your chest at not only his praise but his support.
Kane’s eyes narrowed, glancing at you before moving back to Robby. “I’m addressing a mistake, Robinavitch.”
“No,” Robby said, sharper now. “You’re making assumptions.”
Silence filled the space around you, and you could sense more than a few eyes on the three of you.
Robby gestured toward the chart. “EKG changes, elevated troponins, ongoing symptoms—that’s a valid consult. She followed protocol and made the right call.”
Kane pressed his lips together in annoyance, clearly not expecting pushback. He didn’t expect Robby to defend one of his residents, even though that’s exactly the thing Robby would do for anyone who needed it.
“This could’ve waited,” he muttered.
“Or it could’ve been something serious that got missed,” Robby countered. “That’s the point of getting you down here.”
Kessler exhaled through his nose, irritation still lingering there but dulled. “Fine,” he said shortly. “I’ll take a look.”
He didn’t apologize, but he also didn’t argue further. He turned, ignoring you, eyes scanning the chart as he walked off.
“Alright, people, back to work,” you heard Dana say from somewhere behind you, but her voice sounded far away and drowned out, like it was underwater.
The space around you slowly came back to life. Quiet chatter picked up again, and you felt gazes shift away from you. But your feet remained rooted in their spot. You still felt the sting of embarrassment and humiliation from being called out in front of your colleagues, in front of patients. You felt shame and panic building and knew the frustrated tears weren’t far behind.
Your hands trembled as you heaved a breath and took the opportunity that everyone’s attention had shifted from you to rush away, tumbling through the double doors and into the stairwell.
The door opened behind you and you knew it was him before even having to look back.
“I’m okay,” you said, slightly out of breath. His presence lingered behind you and he murmured your name. You swallowed the lump in your throat and squeezed your eyes shut, urging the burning feeling behind them to go away.
When you felt you finally got a hold on your emotions, you turned. His expression had shifted, the iciness he had held for Kane completely gone, and he was staring at you with softness and warmth and understanding. You felt a new knot form at the back of your throat.
“I’m okay,” you repeated, forcing the words out, and although you tried sounding confident, your words were quieter that time.
“You sure?” he asked, leaning his head down to get a closer look at your face.
You were silent for a moment and decided it was better not to answer that question, because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to keep lying. Not to him.
“Thanks,” you said, changing the subject. “For standing up for me.”
He shrugged, but didn’t look away. “You don’t have to thank me for that. He was out of line.”
His mouth tightened into a thin line and his eyes shifted before returning to yours. You could sense the anger that still lingered.
“I could’ve dealt with Kane. I don’t want to cause any trouble. You didn’t have to step in like that.”
He looked at you, disbelief etching into the lines of his face.
“Yes, I did. You shouldn’t have to deal with Kane. You did everything you were supposed to; he had no right talking to you like that.”
He took a step towards you, the air growing thick and your heart beat faster beneath your ribs. You felt on edge again for an entirely different reason.
“I’ll always step in for you.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just nodded.
He stared at you for a moment longer.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” His voice was low, gravelly and deep, and you took a shaky breath in before being able to respond.
“Yes,” you said. He tilted his head, taking another step towards you, his eyes showing doubt. “I promise.”
Your voice came out low and breathy, and you clenched your hands at your sides, desperately trying to hold back the urge to reach out and touch him. He was so close you could smell the mint on his breath. His breathing picked up, you noticed, and his eyes glanced down the span of your face and settled on your lips for a second before darting back to your eyes. He opened his mouth, and for a moment you thought he would say something, but he didn’t. He sighed, taking a step back from you, though his eyes still lingered on your face.
“I meant it,” he said quietly. “What I said back there.”
“What?”
His jaw tightened slightly. “That you’re one of my best doctors.”
A swell of pride rose in you and you smiled at him. Something deeper lingered under the words, you both knew it, but neither of you moved.
The doors slammed open, making you jump back from Robby. You looked behind him at Evan, who had just stepped into the stairwell.
“Evan,” you said, breathy, and Robby took another step away from you. Guilt started eating away at you. You had stood there, entirely too close to Robby, and not a single thought of Evan had crossed your mind.
He stood at the doors for a moment, glancing between you and Robby, before taking a step towards you.
“I heard about what happened.”
Robby cleared his throat. “I have to get back.” He glanced at you before speaking again. “I’ll see you in there.”
A heavy silence lingered after the door closed behind him. You looked at Evan and the indiscernible look in his blue eyes and you didn’t trust yourself to say anything first.
He glanced back at the doors before looking back at you.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded. “Word travels fast around here,” you muttered.
“Dana told me what happened…Nice of Robby to defend you like that.”
You cleared your throat. “Well, he’s my boss.”
He gave you a pointed look. “I think we both know that’s not the whole truth.”
Your hands shook and you felt nervous. You knew that you had not done anything wrong. You and Robby hadn’t even touched, but you knew that your heart wasn’t in the right place right then. And that just made you feel like shit. You looked down at your shoes, shame filling every part of you.
“Look, I have patients I have to see. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Let’s talk tonight, alright?”
A part of you shriveled inside at his calm tone, the kindness that still swirled in his blue gaze. He approached you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He gently grabbed your shoulders, making you look up at him, and he smiled, almost resigned.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll talk later.” He pressed another kiss to your head and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the stairway.
The day was long, as were most days. There was a brief lull in the mid-afternoon, and you took the chance to catch up on as much of your charting as you could. A part of you resented it–patients kept you busy, and if you were busy, you could keep your mind off of how much of a shit show your personal life was. The entire situation with Robby, the tension that you knew Evan felt, the impending, impossible decision you had to make about that offer letter from Presby…it all felt like too much that day. And sitting your ass down to do something as mundane as charting just made too many thoughts swirl in your head.
A presence slid in beside you. You glanced up at Trinity, who looked to be about done with everything and everyone as she dropped her tablet onto the counter in front of her.
“Remind me again why we thought this job was a good idea,” she huffed out.
You chuckled. “Because we were young and optimistic and maybe a little stupid.”
“Tragic,” she said and rolled her eyes.
She glanced at you, contemplative.
“So,” she said casually, “have you made up your mind yet?”
You didn’t look up from the computer screen. “About what?”
She gave you a pointed look. “Presby…”
You bit your lip and lowered your voice slightly. “I don’t know yet.”
“It’s a good offer,” she said. “Better hours, better pay…”
“Wow, Trin, you’re really selling it. If you want me gone, just say it.”
Her sharp eyes stared at you and she raised an eyebrow.
“I’m just saying, if I had that option, I’d take it. I wonder what’s keeping you here,” she said, and though the question was rhetorical, she had a knowing look in her eye.
“Well, Evan thinks I should take it.”
She huffed out a cynical laugh. “Oh, please, we both know it’s not him.”
“Trinity,” you said, and she threw her hands up in mock surrender.
“I didn’t say names,” she said. “All I’m saying is that you should decide soon. They won’t wait forever.”
You knew she was talking about Presby, but her words hit harder and deeper than they were meant to. They won’t wait forever.
“I know.”
“Are you seriously considering the offer, though?”
“Yes, I am. I think it might be the right choice. But, maybe it’s not…I don’t know.”
Before she could respond, Dana’s voice cut in from behind you.
“Wait, what offer?”
You turned to find her a few feet away, arms crossed, and eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity. Your stomach dropped, and Trin winced from beside you.
“Oops…that’s my cue to go.” You shot her a look as she got up and walked away.
You turned back towards Dana. You hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Um, I got an attending offer for next year…From Presby.”
She stepped closer. “And you were planning on mentioning this when?”
“I haven’t told that many people. Just Evan and Santos,” you said quickly. “I just haven’t decided anything yet. It’s the only offer I’ve gotten so far. I was waiting to see…”
She studied you for a moment. “You’re seriously considering leaving?”
The question landed heavier than you expected. “Yes, maybe…I don’t know. I’m not really sure yet. They want an answer pretty soon, though.”
Dana nodded slowly, processing your words, but something in her gaze sharpened, like she was connecting dots in her mind. You always knew her to be observant, and a part of you knew that she knew more about the situation than she led on.
“Well,” she said after a moment, her tone lighter, “that’s one way to shake things up around here.”
You smiled back at her, but it was forced, and you knew from the sad look in her eye that she knew it was, too.
Robby leaned against the nurses’ station, tablet in hand, and glasses perched on his nose. It was rare that he was fully caught up with patients, and a part of him felt restless, so he had found himself overthinking. About the overdue cleaning his home needed, then about the staffing needs for the following year, and that road always led him back to you.
Maybe it was selfish of him to want to keep you with him. But you were his best resident, his feelings for you aside. It only made sense to offer you that attending position.
Dana was beside him, typing something up, and his eyes flickered over to her.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“Oh, no,” she said, tone dry and she didn’t even bother looking up from what she was doing. He ignored the quip.
“About next year. Staffing.”
That certainly got her attention. She looked up, her hazel eyes locking with his. “Okay…”
“We’re going to need another attending,” he continued. “Someone who already knows the system, the pace. Someone who can handle the pressure.”
Dana watched him now, more carefully. “Who’d you have in mind?”
“I was thinking about offering it to her,” he said. He didn’t say your name, but he didn’t need to.
Dana’s brow lifted slightly. “That so?”
“She’s ready,” Robby added, more firmly. “More than ready. She’s one of the best to come around here.”
“I’m not arguing that,” Dana said, and then paused for a beat. He sensed that she had more to say, but she stayed quiet. His jaw tightened.
“But?...”
“But,” she added, turning fully towards him. “She got another offer.”
He stilled, almost reeling back from the shock of it. Thinking about it, he shouldn’t be shocked. He wouldn’t be surprised if you got a million other offers. But a part of him felt like he already had you, already had some sort of claim on you. But that didn’t stop the words from landing like a punch in the gut.
“From who?”
“Presby,” Dana said, watching him carefully.
“She’s… leaving?” he asked, his voice quieter.
“She hasn’t decided,” Dana clarified. “But it’s not hypothetical.”
Robby looked down at the tablet in his hands, the dark screen reflecting his face back at him. His brows were furrowed, and something similar to horror reflected back at him through his eyes. You might be leaving PTMC. You might be leaving him. And you hadn’t even mentioned anything.
“I was going to ask her to stay.” His voice was quiet and honest, and Dana’s expression softened, something akin to pity lining her features.
“You might want to do that soon,” she said.
Robby nodded slowly. It was a good opportunity. A smart choice; he knew that. But he felt himself start to spiral with images of you, of the distance between you, of you and Evan, and the emotional walls you both had built since he left. What was the phrase…right person, wrong time? He had debated coming back at all, but he did. The only thing he thought of during his sabbatical was you, the only reason he came back was you, but it still felt like he lost you.
He knew he was running out of time.
He didn’t confront you right away. Back-to-back traumas and the nonstop pace of the ED kept you both busy, and he wasn’t able to find a moment alone with you. The conversation would not be an easy one; he knew he had to get you alone, away from prying eyes and ears, if he hoped for any kind of raw honesty.
For you, the day felt like too much. Not only had you been completely humiliated in front of your coworkers, on top of dealing with your complicated feelings for Robby and the guilt over Evan, but you had a code.
The silence rang loud in your head, and you felt the weight of it, heavy and hollow, long after the monitors had flatlined. You had tried everything–you really had. The family’s faces flashed like echoes in your brain and every time you remembered them or the young girl on that hospital bed, your hands would shake and you wanted to vomit.
You sat in an empty consult room, the door shut, staring blankly at the wall. You tried to breathe through the tightness in your chest, your hands gripping tightly to the edge of the bed. You should be out there, working, charting, doing anything else. Maybe that would keep your mind off what had just happened, but your legs felt like lead and you stayed rooted in that spot.
You heard the door open behind you.
“I’m fine,” you said automatically, not turning back to see who had come to check on you. The door clicked shut and you swallowed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Your stomach dropped.
Robby.
You closed your eyes tightly, willing the burning in them to go away, before you turned to face him. His expression was tight, controlled in a way that told you he had been holding whatever it was in for a while.
“Told you what?”
“The offer. You leaving.”
Of course, he knew. You exhaled, slowly and controlled, trying to keep your emotions in check. You were already in a bad mental state; you didn’t need it to get worse, and you knew this conversation was not headed in a good direction.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you said, measuring your words.
“But you’ve been thinking about it,” he pressed.
You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I’m heavily considering it.”
You could see the words land. It was subtle, but you knew Robby enough to see it. His head tilted slightly to the right, and his mouth tightened. His face twitched for a moment, his nose and eyes scrunching up before he ran a hand through his hair.
His eyes turned to steel and his jaw tightened. “Why?”
You breathed deeply. Control yourself. “It’s a great opportunity,” you said, nodding. “Better hours, better pay.”
He huffed out a cynical, disbelieving laugh and gave you a look, his eyebrows raised. He wasn’t buying it. Not even a little. Your chest tightened. You knew it wouldn’t be enough to convince him. You knew you were trying to convince yourself.
You shrugged, eyes shifting to the closed door behind him, needing to look away from his stare.
You knew he’d take it personally because it was personal. Fuck it.
“Come on, Robby,” you said, your voice thick now and you looked back at him. “We both know why.”
There was silence from him.
“It’s hard for me to be around you,” you finally admitted. The words were raw and unfiltered, and once you said them, the floodgates opened, and you let out everything you had been holding onto with an iron grip. “I have feelings for you. I’m sure you already figured that out.”
His eyes softened, and he shuffled a step closer to you, but you took a step back from him. He stopped short, gaze heavy on you.
“I don’t want to feel like this. I’m with Evan, and you were with Noelle, and you’re my boss. Everything is complicated. I don’t want to resent you, Robby. And I don’t want you to resent me. So I think the best thing for me to do is leave.” You took a deep breath, embarrassment and shame starting to fill you, and you looked away from his pleading eyes. “It’s what makes sense.”
The room felt too small. His presence loomed over you, filling the space with a heavy silence that roared loudly in your ears. You looked back at him, his eyes still glued to you.
Robby stared at you for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes.
“So you’re running away,” he finally said.
You didn’t know what you expected. Maybe he would have confessed his own feelings, maybe reassured you that things wouldn’t be complicated, comforted you over the rough day you were having. You would have broken up with Evan, and the two of you would be happy moving forward together. But he didn’t. He said you were running away, he was calling you a coward. The words hit a nerve you hadn’t realized was as exposed as it was.
Your head snapped up, anger filling you. “Yeah,” you fired back. “You’d know all about that.”
The second it left your mouth, you regretted it. He reeled back, eyes looking at you like he had never seen you before. But you didn’t take the words back. You didn’t apologize.
“What?”
“You leaving on your sabbatical, pretending you were okay. We all saw right through you, Robby. You couldn’t handle things, so you ran away like a coward.” The word vomit was hard to stop, and after every word, every syllable, you pleaded with yourself to shut up. But all the repressed feelings, all the heartbreak, were bubbling to the surface and overflowing.
“How fucking dare you?” He took a massive step towards you, his face so close to yours that you were breathing the same air. “That’s different, and you know it.”
“How?” you spat out.
Robby exhaled sharply. “I needed time away. I thought I was making the right choice.”
“I think I’m making the right choice, too. Maybe I need to be away from here, too. Away from you.”
“Why didn’t you say anything that night before I left?” he demanded. “If you felt like this, why didn’t you just say it?”
Your chest tightened painfully. He knew what you were going to say that night. The realization hit you hard in the gut, and you tried your best not to let it show on your face.
“I was going to. Until I saw you with Noelle.”
Robby’s brow furrowed. “That was nothing.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “Right.”
“It was,” he insisted. “You could’ve said something before that.”
“Oh, please,” you snapped, the frustration spilling over now, clear as day on your face as you snarled at him. “She was your three-month fix. Everyone knows your pattern. When exactly was I supposed to say anything? During Patricia? Rebecca?”
His expression hardened. “I get it.”
“When I saw Noelle, I realized things wouldn’t change. I didn’t want to be the next in line,” you finished.
Silence crashed down between you.
“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice low.
“Isn’t it?” you challenged. “You bounce from person to person, and I’m supposed to believe I’d be different? That if I made myself vulnerable for you, that you would change overnight into someone who wanted to commit?”
“I don’t do that anymore,” he said, his voice louder now. “And the only reason I ever did—” He cut himself off, and sighed, hands rising to rub the back of his neck in agitation. “The only reason I did is because I was afraid of what I felt for you.”
Your breath caught in your lungs.
“You wouldn’t have been a fix,” he added, quieter now. “It would’ve never been like that with you.”
You shook your head, stepping back slightly. “That’s easy to say now.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Maybe a part of me believed that before. Maybe that’s why I decided I was going tell you that night. But not anymore. You don’t get to decide that after the fact,” you said, voice cracking. “You don’t get to rewrite it because it’s convenient.”
“I’m not rewriting anything,” he snapped. “I’m telling you what I felt.”
“And what does that change?” you asked, tears burning in your eyes now. “You still left.”
“I didn’t know! And you’re the one running away now,” he fired back.
The words hit harder than they should have, because he was right. He practically admitted he had feelings for you, and you were still leaving. Maybe it could be easy, but the words echoed in your head. I’m telling you what I felt. Felt. You never had him, and you never would.
You both fell silent for a moment. Your breathing was uneven, and a tear finally escaped. You saw his hand twitch, almost as if he was going to wipe it away, but he didn’t.
“I thought…” you started, then stopped, swallowing hard. “I thought if you felt the same way, you would’ve said something first. That you wouldn’t fall into someone else’s bed so easily.”
He was silent, and your chest ached painfully. The distance felt impossibly large now; a chasm wedged deeply between the two of you.
“I can’t keep doing this,” you said, voice breaking, and the tears kept falling. “I can’t keep standing here wondering what this is, what it could’ve been, what we missed.”
Robby’s expression softened, and he whispered your name, but it was too late. The damage was already there.
“I’m trying to do what’s best for me,” you continued.
“And leaving is the only option?” he asked, and he sounded almost as broken as you felt inside.
“I can’t be around you,” you said. “It hurts too much. It’s the only option that makes sense.”
It was the only option that made sense. Even if it made everything inside of you scream with agony. Even if it felt like you were giving up. You had called him a coward, but maybe you were just projecting. And still–it was the only option that made sense.
Silence settled again, heavy and final.
Robby nodded slowly, forcing himself to accept something he didn’t agree with.
“Okay,” he said. The words felt wrong–too easy, too empty and you hated it. You hated that you hurt him. You hated that he hurt you too. You hated that you desperately wished that he would fight harder for you. But you were too tired, too burned out, and your heart too raw to even try.
“Okay,” you echoed, even though it wasn’t okay at all.
He lingered for a second longer, like he had more to say, like he couldn’t look away from you because it would be too hard. But he didn’t say anything. He never did.
He turned and walked out, the door closing behind him with a devastating finality. And you were left standing there, chest tight, eyes swollen and teary, the weight of everything pressing down at once.
The humiliation from earlier. The tension with Evan. The patient. The fight. Robby.
By the time you finally moved, it was only because you had to, not because anything was resolved. Nothing ever was with him.
It seemed that whenever your life went bad, the universe decided to make it even worse.
Your apartment was quiet that night. Evan sat in front of you at the dinner table, but your eyes remained glued to the plate in front of you. You had barely touched it, your appetite completely gone. It was barely eight, and at this time, you would normally be found yapping away about your day, smiling and giggling at your boyfriend. But not that night.
Evan watched you for a long moment, like he was building up the courage to say something. When he finally did, a part of you wanted to shrivel up and die, for the earth beneath you to open up and swallow you whole.
“You love him,” he said. There was no anger in his voice, no accusation being levied against you. He was simply stating a fact, something he knew to be true without anyone having to say anything. He noticed the way your energy shifted when Robby’s name came up. The way your eyes followed him without meaning to. The way you went quiet after interacting with him, like you were holding something fragile inside your chest.
It made your heart drop lower than it already was.
You shook your head instinctively, tears of shame coming too easily. “Evan—“. You stopped yourself, unsure of what to say and your breath heaved.
“Hey,” he said, rising from his seat and approaching you gently. He kneeled in front of you, his hands reaching forward to hold yours, and he squeezed them in a gentle assurance. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie to spare me.”
The tears escaped, and your heart was beating way too hard, making it difficult to breathe properly. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“I know,” he said softly. One of his hands went to the back of your head, gently running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to calm you down, but it only made you feel worse. “I know you wanted to make this work.”
Your throat was tight, too tight to force any words out, so you just nodded through the tears.
“I think that if he wasn’t in the picture, it might have.” That statement hurt you more than anything. You sobbed louder, raising your hands to cover your face in shame, but you didn’t deny it. His hand ran down your spine in comfort.
“You look at him differently,” he said. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked at me that way. And I need someone who’s all in. And so do you.” He was being gentle with you and the shame you felt was nearly overwhelming you. He was the one getting hurt, the one whose trust you betrayed, and yet he was the one comforting you.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” you sobbed out, face hiding in your hands.
“Dragging this out would hurt me more,” he said gently.
“I’m so sorry,” you said and you knew you were hyperventilating. He gently ran his hand down your back and helped you focus on his breathing, trying to calm you down. It was a few minutes of that, of you calming down enough to be able to breathe properly. Your face felt swollen and you knew your eyes were probably red and puffy.
“You deserve so much better,” you said, shaking your head. Disappointed in yourself. You thought he was right. If Robby hadn’t been in the picture, you would’ve so easily fallen in love with him.
He shook his head. “We both deserve someone who loves us fully.” You sat in silence at that, the words seeping into your brain.
“I guess there’s nothing holding me back here,” you finally said.
“Isn’t there?”
You shook your head.
“I don’t think there’s a chance there. Not anymore. And I might be leaving. Things just got so complicated,” you sighed. Evan squeezed your hand and you looked into his calm, blue eyes.
“I think you know where your heart is,” he said. You closed your eyes briefly, the truth settling into your chest like a ton of lead, heavy and inevitable. “I don’t think the decision is as hard as you think it might be. But you need to figure it out. You need to make your choice.”
And just like that, he let you go with a grace you didn’t deserve. He left after that, leaving you in a silent apartment. The air conditioning hummed, the only sound that filled your ears as you sat on your couch, your mind moving a million miles a minute.
When had you lost control of every aspect of your life? Today was a bad day–the worst one in a long time. One where everything that could go wrong, had gone wrong. Robby and you started speaking again, tentatively and carefully, he had even defended you. But then he found out about you potentially leaving. You got in a fight. Evan left you. It was a shitshow.
It was the most alone you felt. The knot at the back of your throat grew again, the tears slipping past your blurred vision and you didn’t think before you got up, grabbing your keys, and made your way to the bar three blocks down.
The soft, jukebox music was nearly drowned out by the loud chatter from the pool tables. You sat at the corner of the bar, alone and surely a sad sight for anyone that looked over. Your eyes were fixated on the glass of whisky in front of you. You had taken a sip, the alcohol burning down your throat and grimaced, wondering why in the fuck you had ordered whisky when you didn’t even like it. Maybe it was from some masochistic need to make yourself suffer as much physically as you were mentally. Maybe it was because a subconscious part of you knew it was Robby’s drink of choice.
You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut and hanging your head at the thought of him.
How did everything get so fucked? You had everything lined up perfectly. A new job with great pay was presented to you on a silver platter. You had an incredible, attractive, kind boyfriend. And yet…you loved working at PTMC. You loved the chaos and thrived on the adrenaline. You loved the people. You loved Robby. And no matter how attentive or sweet or perfect Evan was, he just wasn’t him.
The seat next to you filled, a shadow slipping over you and you sighed. All you wanted right then was to be left alone. You didn’t want to deal with some drunk reveler who would find it difficult to take no for an answer. You turned, ready to tell the stranger to fuck off, but the person sitting there, smiling gently at you was a shock to your system.
Noelle.
She looked beautiful, as she always did and a small part of you felt even worse at that. A short black dress hugged her figure like it was made for her and her hair was perfectly curled. You shifted, suddenly conscious of your day-old scrubs, probably covered in bodily fluids, and the messy bun on top of your head. You felt exhausted and you were sure your face showed it.
“Oh, hi, Noelle,” you said.
“I thought it was you,” she answered, smiling gently. The bartender approached the two of you and she smiled at him, ordering a cosmo for herself.
You couldn’t think of anything to say, and found yourself blurting the first thing that came to your mind. “Come here often?”
She laughed slightly and looked back at you.
“I’m here with a few friends. Figured I’d come say hi.” She peered closer at you, her eyes examining you in a way that made you feel like she could read every thought in your mind.
“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you, it just gets so busy at the hospital. I’m glad I ran into you here,” she said. “Happy coincidence.”
Happy coincidence–yeah, right. Your stomach tightened and you wanted the earth to open up and sink you down to the core. You wanted to disappear off the face of the planet. Maybe you would try applying to a hospital far, far away. California was nice, you heard. Maybe even Alaska. Wasn’t there some kind of tax benefit for living there?
You cleared your throat, willing your straying thoughts away. “About what?” you asked, hesitant.
The bartender placed the drink in front of her and she took a sip before looking back at you. “About Robby.”
You froze, your fingers tightening around the hard glass of the drink in front of you just to have something to occupy your shaking hands.
“I’m not sure what happened there, Noelle,” you said honestly. “But I’m sorry if I–”
She cut you off, waving a hand out. “That’s not what this is.”
You blinked, thrown for a loop and confusion settled deep. You didn’t know what to say, so you waited for her to continue.
She sighed, breaking eye contact and took another, larger sip of her drink.
“I saw that breakup coming from a mile away.”
The three-month fix. It was an unspoken rumor at the hospital, one that you were sure the woman sitting next to you had heard about and possibly been warned about in the past.
“What does that have to do with me?”
She looked at you, an eyebrow raised. “Come on, doc. We both know the answer to that. The way he looks at you? I never noticed until I walked in on the two of you the night he left. I knew nothing happened, but I felt so angry. So inadequate. I gave him shit for it and he denied it, but I know what I saw. I realized then why he could never give himself over to me emotionally–not the way I wanted or needed him to. He looks at you like he loves you.”
Your heart stuttered in your chest, anxiety swirling in your gut at her words. You hadn’t imagined it, then. Everything leading up to that moment in the breakroom, right before your heart shattered in your chest–the soft glances and shy smiles and quiet moments of closeness were not one-sided. His words from earlier echoed in your mind, like a rewinding tape. “I was afraid of what I felt for you.” He was being honest with you, he was opening up to you then and you shut him out.
“I’m sorry,” you said, not knowing what else you could tell her to make her feel better. “I never meant to hurt you.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault. Feelings are complicated.” She took another sip from her cosmo while your whisky sat untouched on the wooden counter in front of you. She looked at you, her brown eyes shining in the dim, twinkling lights of the bar and her expression was serious and earnest.
She said your name before continuing. “I don’t blame you for what happened with me and Robby. I don’t think it was anyone’s fault. Except maybe his.” You both chuckled quietly at that. “I ended up resenting him by the end, until I finally accepted that I wasn’t the one he really wanted. Don’t do what we did. Don’t wait until it’s over to be honest with each other.”
You sighed, thinking back to the argument you had with Robby.
“I think it may be too late for that. I don’t think there’s a chance there anymore.” Your gaze shifted back to the full glass and you sighed in resignation.
She placed her hand gently on your shoulder and you looked back at her. “If I’m right–and I usually am–that man is crazy about you. I think there’s more of a chance there than you think.”
She stood, grabbing her drink. “Go home,” she said, placing a twenty in front of your drink and gesturing to the bartender. “You look like you’re about to pass out from exhaustion. And just…think about what I said, okay?”
You nodded, and her answering smile was almost sad, before you turned and walked back to her group of friends.
You sat there for a moment, thoughts racing in your head and heart thumping hard in your chest, before you stood and headed back to your apartment.
Dawn came quickly after a short night of restless sleep and you woke up to the shrill sound of your phone alarm blaring in your ear. You instantly regretted going out the previous night. The late night coupled with the emotional turmoil you felt made the exhaustion so heavy in your bones that you heavily considered calling out, which you had never done unless you had been seriously ill.
You laid in the comforting warmth of your bed for a moment, staring at the oscillating fan on your ceiling. You counted to five slowly before forcing yourself up and going through the motions of getting ready for the day.
You started to make yourself a coffee, black and strong, knowing that it would be a heavily caffeinated day, but stopped short when you grabbed the mug from your cabinet. It wasn’t anything special, just a mug–white, with the phrase “residency sucks” printed on it–but Robby had given it to you. He had gotten you for Secret Santa the previous December, and there had been several gag gifts leading up to the actual gift exchange, including the mug. It was stupid and silly, and it would have normally lived in the back of your cabinet until you forgot about it completely, but Robby had gifted it to you. It felt special. It was the mug you found yourself reaching for nearly every morning, a small part of you feeling closer to the man who seemed further away than ever before.
Your thoughts drifted to him–his gentle, sad brown eyes and how upset he had been at the thought of you leaving. And despite your hurt pride, you realized that he was right. You were running away. And it wouldn’t fix anything. In fact, it would probably make the both of you more miserable.
You sighed, chugging the dark drink quickly and made your way out of your apartment. Your thoughts kept drifting to him on your walk to the hospital, and you knew that Evan was right. You had to make your choice. There could be no more waiting or procrastinating. You were either going to risk it all, forgive him for the past two months and build something new with him, or you were going to leave. Both choices scared the shit out of you, but only one made your heart leap with unbridled hope. Only one choice was the right one in your heart.
You walked in through the ambulance bay, avoiding the building crowd in the waiting room, and your eyes immediately drifted to him. He was standing at a computer, glasses perched on his nose, and you found him already looking at you. The space between your gazes was charged, unspoken words lingering between the two of you.
A part of you wanted to cower away, but you didn’t and neither did he. You stared at him and decided then and there. No more almosts. You needed closure. Whether it completely ended whatever this thing was between the two of you and you could finally move on, or whether you got everything you could selfishly wish for. Time had run out and you were not about to make a coward’s choice.
You took a deep breath, approaching him. The scent of his cologne invaded your senses and you almost purred at the comfort that being this close to him brought you.
“I need to talk to you.”
He swallowed and nodded. “Is it about a patient or work related?”
You tilted your head, your remaining fixed on him. “No.”
He sighed, resigned, and then nodded. “Fine, we can talk later tonight. Let’s try to focus on work for now.”
You sighed, but relented, knowing he was right. “Okay, we’ll talk later.”
He was avoiding you. He knew that you could tell, if the looks you were shooting at him all day were any indication, but if he was honest with himself, he was terrified to speak with you. He had no idea what intentions you had, whether you were going to tell him you were never coming back and never wanted to see him again, or…
He stopped his thoughts short, unwilling to even think about the other possibility. The thought of that–of him having you, loving you–was nothing but a fantasy he dreamed up every night and he refused to give himself any false hope.
He knew he needed to apologize for his reaction yesterday, knew that you were conflicted and scared and hurt and the things he had said didn’t make anything better. But he was a coward, foolishly in love with one of his residents, and so he was avoiding you.
You were in a patient’s room and he finally sighed with relief, making his way to the nurses’ station to finally catch up on his charting while he had the chance. Dana was there, looking over some paperwork and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Any updates on our girl leaving?”
He sighed at the reminder and shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Hm, I thought there might’ve been since you’ve been avoiding her all day.”
Robby looked at Dana then, an incredulous expression on his face. “What? I’m not avoiding her.”
She barked out a laugh. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”
He looked back down to the screen in front of him, trying to focus, but his thoughts were too jumbled. He sighed in frustration and ran both hands through his hair.
“I don’t know what the fuck to do.”
“Yeah, I think you do, you’re just too scared to do it.”
“Dana–” he started, but she cut him off and fixed him with hard look.
“If you let her leave without being honest with her, you’re an idiot. But you already know that. You’re in love with that girl and she’s in love with you. And whatever bullshit is going on right now between the two of you is just that–bullshit. You’re making each other miserable when you can just be honest with each other.”
He sighed, knowing his friend was right, but a part of him still hesitated. It wasn’t that simple. The offer was still in the way, the possibility of you leaving lingered in the air, and then there was the fact that you were dating Evan.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, or whatever the fuck the expression was. He stood in the patient room with Dr. Evan Greene as he was finishing up a consult. He tried to focus, and he caught the important information, like the tests that Dr. Greene needed to be done for the patient and all that, but his thoughts kept drifting to you and the man in front of him.
Evan Greene was a good man; Robby didn’t doubt that. He had always been kind and respectful of him and the residents and enjoyed teaching them. He never reprimanded them when they got something wrong and had the patience of a saint. He was young and handsome, if the way the nurses drooled after him was any indication. He tried to be happy for you. He really did. But the bitter taste of jealousy and envy threatened to devour him from the inside out every time he looked at the man.
Both men walked out together and Robby caught a glimpse of you as you spoke to Whitaker. You looked as beautiful as you always did, but the dark circles under your eyes were more prominent than usual and he didn’t fail to notice that you had drank two cups of coffee and were halfway through an energy drink and it was barely three in the afternoon.
“Greene,” he said and the man turned his blue gaze to him. Robby tilted his head towards you. “You should take her out for a break. She looks exhausted.”
Evan’s eyes widened and a blush creped up his cheeks. He looked almost awkward, the most uncomfortable he had ever seen the man, and Robby paused at the expression. Had something happened?
Evan shook his head, tearing his eyes away from you and looking back at Robby. “Um, we broke up last night.”
Robby’s head snapped towards the younger man in shock. “What?” He hadn’t been expecting that.
“Yeah, it was kind of a mutual thing. I just realized she could never give herself fully to me.” He paused for a moment, hesitating before continuing. “Because of you.”
Robby’s spine straightened. “Excuse me?”
“She’s in love with you. Has been for a while. And after you left, I felt like I finally had a chance. She asked me out, and how could I say no? She’s gorgeous, and smart, and funny. But when you came back, I realized the truth. I never had a chance.”
Robby stayed silent, thoughts racing in every direction.
“She’s a gem,” Evan continued. “And you’re one lucky son of a bitch. Don’t fuck it up with her.”
He walked away then, leaving Robby stewing in his thoughts. Something dropped heavily in his chest, like a rock being thrown into a pond, and he felt something click in his mind, then. Nothing was standing in the way of you and him now. That offer letter was still on the table, but you hadn’t officially accepted anything and he wasn’t about to be the reason you left. The hesitation and anguish that clouded every thought of you for the past few weeks cleared away, a sudden clarity opening the path forward. A path he hadn’t allowed himself to think about. A path where he chose his happiness, where he chose you.
He would speak with you that night and he was going to make sure you knew exactly where he stood with you. What he wanted with you and what you meant to him. He would tell you exactly how much the past few months had been torture because he loved you so much but felt like he couldn’t have you. But now–he was going to let himself have you. He was going to let himself open that door if that was what you wanted, too.
He watched as you walked away from Whitaker. Almost as if you had sensed him, you glanced back, your eyes meeting his. They looked sad and tired, but determined. He wasn’t quite sure what you saw in his, but your back straightened and your mouth opened slightly, like you were going to say something, but didn’t. He smiled at you, and you blinked, quickly looking away and headed towards a computer to chart.
He didn’t look away and as you sat, you looked back at him once more, quickly turning away when you caught him. He smiled again to himself and turned, walking towards a patient room. Tonight. He would speak to you tonight.
A part of you was unnerved and another was confused. He was looking at you again. Staring, more like it and the look in his eyes didn’t scream scared or sad. His expression was calm and deep and open. Your heart thundered in your chest, wondering what happened, what changed in the past few hours, why he was looking at you like that.
Not that you minded. Everytime your gazes met, he would smile, giving you a look that made butterflies erupt low in your belly and your heart fill with more hope than you knew what to do with.
You imagined it would always be hard with him. But this–this ease that seemed to seep into the both of you with barely a word spoken between the two of you was unexpected. You liked it a lot.
The day passed quicker than usual, and you were thankful. Only the adrenaline of the impending conversation kept you upright. You saw Abbot come in and glanced around, looking for Robby.
A throat cleared behind you and you turned, your heart jumping in your chest.
“Hi,” you said.
He smiled. And, god, you felt like melting. He had such a beautiful smile. “Hey.”
The two of you stared at each other in silence for a paused moment.
“Let me debrief with Abbot, then we can talk, okay? Meet me on the roof?”
You nodded, and as he walked past you his hand brushed softly against yours. You glanced at him, unsure if it had been an accident, but he was already staring at you, the corners of his mouth lifted.
You swallowed before speaking. “See you there.”
You made it to the roof, the cold breeze brushing past your face. Winter was approaching and even the smell of the crisp air was changing. You huffed a breath out, steeling yourself for what was about to come. Closure. For better or worse, this was it. No more beating around the bush, no more avoidance. Just you and Robby.
The heavy metal door opened and then slammed shut. His footsteps echoed as he approached you and you took your eyes off the skyline and turned to face him. The setting sun set everything alight in golden hues and as he got closer, his eyes shined like molten gold. You almost sighed at the dreamy sight.
You stood staring at each other for a moment before he spoke.
“This isn’t going to go like last time. Not again,” he said, gesturing between the two of you.
You nodded. “Agreed. All I want is for us to finally be honest with each other.”
“Me, too.”
You took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“Well, that’s not all I want,” he said and took a step closer. You swallowed, nervous, but a spark of anticipation lit within you at his boldness.
You huffed out a laugh and smirked at him. “We’ll see.”
He chuckled, looking down and shaking his head before looking back at you.
He turned serious and he spoke again, his voice raspy. “I can’t let you go without saying this. You almost did before, and I knew what you were going to say then because I felt it, too. I’ve gone over that conversation a million times, because I know there was so much that was left unsaid and it kills me to know that. I was a coward. I was scared that if I’d reach for you, I’d ruin you. Or myself. Or both of us. So I looked for something that could make me feel something anywhere else, with women I could never see a future with because every time I tried to picture it, all I could ever see was your face.”
You swallowed, burning behind your eyes, but didn’t dare speak since he looked like he had more to say. You took a step closer, close enough that you could smell his faded cologne and feel his soft breath on your skin and the warmth emanating from him.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he continued, his voice rougher and deeper, like he was trying to hold back tears.
“I don’t want to leave either,” you finally said, your voice low and quiet.
His chest rose a little faster at that and his eyes stayed glued to yours, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he even blinked. The air shifted again between the two of you. There was no interruption waiting behind the break room door. No argument or anger or resentment brewing in an empty patient room. No excuses left for either one of you.
Just you and him and the setting sun behind the Pittsburgh skyline.
“I love you,” he said and you let out a shaky breath. His eyes shone with unshed tears as he continued. “I should’ve told you a long time ago, but things were complicated. I couldn’t let myself admit it to you or to myself. I made myself think it was nothing, but I was wrong. Because it’s not nothing. It’s everything. You’re everything. You matter more to me than anyone.”
His voice broke, a tear finally escaping his eye, and he hastily wiped it away. The burning sensation intensified in your eyes and you know he saw the tears waiting there.
“I wish I had been as brave as you,” he said. “The night I left. You were going to tell me and I fucked it up like I fuck up most things. I got scared and I ran away. You were right in calling me a coward.”
You shook your head, hand reaching out to grab his and he let you.
“No, Robby, I wasn’t. I’m so sorry. I never should’ve said the things that I did. I was hurt and I lashed out at you. You never owed me anything.”
His answering chuckle was shaky and watery. He pulled your hand up and pressed a kiss against the dry skin of your knuckles.
“I think we both did things that hurt the other. Because we were cowards, afraid of what this thing between us could be. Because we felt like the timing was never right. But right now, there’s nothing holding me back from you. Is there something holding you back from me?”
The words landed between the two of you, undeniable, and your breath caught at the unbridled hope in his eyes. You took another step closer, so close that your chests almost pressed against each other, and felt another tear stream down your face. His other hand, large and rough, raised up and gently wiped the tear away, his fingers caressing the soft skin of your face. You shuttered a breath at the feel of him so close. Close enough that you could see every detail of his handsome face–the smile lines, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the hope and uncertainty and love in his eyes.
“No,” you said. “Nothing. I don’t want any more what-ifs. I choose you, Robby.”
His breath shuttered and he closed his eyes in relief. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his nose gently brushing against yours and you smiled. His entire face softened–relief, disbelief, and something akin to wonder shining through the planes of his face.
“I choose you, too. You’re all I want.”
A moment passed in silence, a beat of respite and acceptance.
“Stay. Please. The attending position is yours if you want it.”
You snickered in amusement. “Perks of being with the boss?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Please; that position has been yours for years. Dana and Abbot will have my ass if I let you leave.”
You giggled, hands raising to rest gently on his shoulders. His hands grasped the curve of your waist, pulling you closer and warming you from the chilly air.
“Okay,” you said. “Only because you begged a little.”
“Brat,” he gritted out and you both laughed.
“I guess you better start getting used to it,” you said.
He smiled, eyes shining in true happiness and you didn’t think you’d ever seen him so openly blissful.
“Happily.”
His hand lifted, hesitating just slightly, like he was still giving you enough space to pull away. You didn’t. The thought was unfathomable in your mind.
Instead, you closed the remaining distance between the two of you. You leaned up, pressing your lips to his, and his large hand settled against your cheek, warm and steady. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was firm and real and soft, and made your heart explode in your chest. He kissed you like he was savoring you, and you felt your knees grow weak. You broke apart for a second, panting breaths mingling and smiles stretching across both of your faces, and then he leaned down again, his fingers sliding down your jaw and to your neck, and you relished in the feeling of finally being in his arms. Of finally being his.
something about santos having a history of self harm but having enough self preservation skills to get herself someone to spend the evening with. something about her knowing she might hurt herself if she's alone so she invites someone with her. something about santos making friends when she's had the worst day ever because that's when she needs it most. something about santos making both whitaker and mel feel less alone without realising it. something about her caring for others when she doesn't have the energy to care for herself anymore
Robby wanted to be married with 2 kids in college by his 50's. He wanted a house on land with a pond so he could play on the frozen water in winter with his kids.
And he got none of that. He got multiple failed relationships and one stepson who now hates him for something that isn't his fault. He is not really, truly known by anyone and so does not feel truly LOVED by anyone.
noah wyle, thank you for the most beautiful and heartbreaking scene as you come full circle and your memories of being traumatised in peds is eased with rocking an abandoned baby to sleep.