Chapter 3: Breaking Point
1035 Words
Ella hummed under her breath as she flipped through patient files, the soft tune slipping out without her noticing. It was light, almost playful, the kind of melody that came from a full chest. Her fingers moved easily, neatly sorting papers, while a small smile stayed on her lips.
For a moment, the hospital faded. The noise, the rush, the constant pull of emergencies, all of it felt far away. She felt warm. Safe. Happy, in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Mmm. Someone’s glowing this morning.”
Cathy’s voice cut through the quiet, teasing and sharp all at once.
Ella looked up to find Cathy leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. A grin tugged at her lips.
“Well?” Cathy said. “That smile doesn’t just happen. Spill.”
Ella tried to keep her eyes on the files, but the smile only widened. The hum slipped out again before she could stop it.
“Hello?” Cathy snapped her fingers in front of her face. “Earth to Ella.”
Ella blinked, cheeks warming. “Sorry.”
Cathy tilted her head. “You don’t look sorry. You look… happy.” Her tone softened. “So tell me. What’s going on?”
Ella hesitated, fingers tightening around the folder. Then she exhaled, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Tonight’s our fifth anniversary.”
Cathy’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh.”
Ella nodded, excitement lighting her eyes. “I planned something special. Just dinner, but—” She lowered her voice, leaning closer. “I bought him a gift. Don’t tell anyone.”
Cathy’s smile faded, just a little. Something uneasy crossed her face.
“With that jerk again” she asked carefully.
Ella nodded again, hugging the thought to her chest.
Cathy uncrossed her arms, then folded them again, tighter this time. “El… you know what’s been happening lately. You’ve seen it. Why do you keep ignoring it?”
Ella’s smile wavered. Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I know things haven’t been perfect.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Cathy said quietly. “You know he’s been pulling away. You know he’s lying.”
Ella shook her head, too fast. “I can’t just leave,” she whispered. “We’ve built so much together. Five years. I love him.”
Cathy let out a deep sighed, rubbing her temple. “Loving someone shouldn’t hurt like this.”
Ella swallowed. The truth sat heavy in her chest, sharp and pressing, but she pushed it down. “Things will change after we’re married,” she said. “He’s just… distracted. Work stress. That’s all.”
Cathy studied her for a long moment. “Do you even feel like he still loves you?”
The question landed between them like glass.
Ella opened her mouth, then closed it. Her chest tightened. Her fingers curled into her palm.
She forced a smile. “Of course he does.”
Cathy didn’t smile back. “I hope you’re right.”
Ella grabbed her bag and headed down the hall, her steps quick, almost rushed. She held the strap tight, as if it might ground her. Inside the bag, the small gift pressed against her side, the wrapping already creased from how often she’d checked to make sure it was still there.
At Andrie’s office, she didn’t knock.
She pushed the door open, her smile ready.
“Hey, hon—”
The words died in her throat.
Andrie sat behind his desk.
Kaye sat on his lap.
For a second, no one moved.
Kaye scrambled up, her blouse half-buttoned, hair messy, cheeks flushed. Andrie’s eyes went wide, panic flashing across his face.
Ella stood frozen.
The room tilted.
“What…” Her voice came out calm, strangely detached. “What’s going on?”
Andrie jumped to his feet, fumbling with his shirt. “Ella—this isn’t what it looks like.”
Kaye smirked. She brushed past Ella without a word, perfume lingering in the air like an insult.
Ella’s stomach twisted. She stared at Andrie. “She was sitting on your lap.”
He exhaled hard, irritation replacing fear. “God, here we go again.”
“Again?” Ella’s laugh cracked. “I just walked in.”
“You always do this,” he snapped. “You see something for two seconds and turn it into drama. She was helping me review files.”
“On your lap?”
“You’re paranoid,” he shot back. “Do you know how exhausting that is?”
Something inside Ella went quiet.
Her hand slipped into her bag, fingers closing around the small wrapped box. The paper crumpled under her grip.
“Are we still going out tonight?” she asked softly.
He didn’t look at her. “No. Emergency consult.”
Her vision blurred. She blinked fast. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
He turned, annoyed. “What now?”
The silence stretched.
Ella smiled, like a thin, broken thing, and said. “Nothing.”
Andrie grabbed his coat and left.
The door clicked shut.
Ella stood there alone, shaking. Her breath came shallow, uneven. She pressed a hand to her chest.
“How could you…” she whispered.
Her knees felt weak. Tears burned her eyes, one slipping free just as the intercom crackled.
“Doctor Ella de Guzman to ER.”
She wiped her cheeks fast, drew a breath sharp enough to sting, and forced her legs to move. Don’t think about him. Not here.
The ER swallowed her whole. The bright lights, sharp smells, voices overlapping. A young man lay bleeding on a gurney, his breaths shallow, eyes wide with fear.
“Vitals dropping!”
“Prep for intubation!”
Gloves were pressed into her hands.
Ella snapped them on.
Her heart pounded, but not for Andrie. Not anymore.
Her hands moved with calm precision. Orders left her mouth steady and clear. She focused on the rise and fall of the patient’s chest, the rhythm of the monitors.
Blood. Noise. Chaos.
And yet, she found her center.
Here, she knew what to do.
Here, she mattered.
And for now, that was enough.
- Writer
