Bella's POV
It was the end of another grinding week, the kind where the fluorescent lights of the hospital had imprinted themselves behind my eyelids. Chuck, Mark, Aarti and I had made a beeline to The Beaker after work. Aarti, ever the curious cat, hadn’t managed to pry much about Jackson out of me. I’d been busy—thankfully.
I hadn’t seen Jackson since Monday, when we last worked together in Theatre 9. That absence was a gift. A balm. And every evening since, my pulse would spike as I approached the allocations board, praying not to see his name next to mine. So far, I’d been granted that small mercy.
Although… was it mercy? No one taught quite like Jackson. Calm, razor-focused, with a way of explaining even the most complex procedures so they clicked instantly. We were good together
