CHAPTER 13: Later That Afternoon-The confrontation
720 Words
POV: Dr. Yarra Sebastian
Location: Altamonte Medical Center – Private Doctor's Quarters
The operation was a success.
After six grueling hours in the operating room, Ethan Cruz’s tumor had been carefully removed. Yarra had led the surgical team with precision and quiet determination, her focus unshaken even in the most delicate parts of the bone reconstruction.
When it was all done, she watched the boy being wheeled out of the OR, still unconscious, but safe.
"Vital signs are stable," the anesthesiologist confirmed. "He made it through."
Yarra sighed in relief. She gently squeezed Ethan’s hand before he was brought to recovery.
Later, at the nurses’ station, she handed over the chart and spoke to the assigned nurse on duty.
"Monitor his pain levels every two hours. Make sure his IV is secure, and alert me if there's any sign of fever or infection," Yarra said.
"Yes, Doc," the nurse nodded respectfully. "We'll take care of him."
Satisfied that her patient was in good hands, Yarra turned to head toward her private doctor’s room — her sanctuary.
Her body felt like it was made of stone.
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As she reached her quarters, she slowly opened the door and entered. It was quiet. Clean. Familiar.
She took off her white coat and hung it on the back of the chair. Then unbuttoned her scrub top and placed it in the hamper. The room was dim, the curtains drawn to block out the late afternoon sun.
She walked barefoot to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let the warm water wash away the tension from the long day. It cascaded down her back, relaxing her sore shoulders and aching neck. The sound of running water echoed softly against the tiled walls.
After drying off, she stepped out wrapped in a soft cream-colored towel, her long hair damp and clinging gently to her skin.
She moved toward her small dresser, ready to change and rest.
But before she could even open a drawer—
The door creaked open.
She froze.
Zarred.
He stood there in the doorway, also frozen, eyes wide in disbelief.
“Yarra?”
Her heart jumped to her throat.
“Zarred?!” she gasped, clutching the towel tighter around her chest.
He turned away immediately, raising his hands in panic. “I—I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were here! I swear, I asked the nurse where you were and she said—”
“You can’t just barge into someone’s private room!” she snapped, breath catching in her throat.
“I just wanted to see you,” he muttered, still facing the door. “After the surgery. After everything you did.”
Yarra’s cheeks were flushed — from the heat of the shower, or from embarrassment, she wasn’t sure. But her voice was sharp.
“You’ve seen me. Now get out.”
He turned halfway — just enough to catch a glimpse of her face.
“I saw how you handled that boy’s case. I heard the way his parents spoke about you. You saved a life today.”
Yarra’s voice dropped low, but firm. “Don’t make this about me.”
“I’m not,” he said softly. “I just… miss you.”
Silence.
Steam still lingered in the room. Her hair dripped down her back, and the soft hum of the air-conditioning filled the gap between them.
“You can’t just walk in and say that, Zarred,” she whispered. “Not after everything.”
“I didn’t plan this,” he said. “But being in that operating room, watching you command everything, seeing you exhausted and still standing… I realized I don’t even know this version of you. But I want to.”
Yarra looked down, clutching the towel tighter.
“And what about the old version of me?” she asked. “The one you left behind?”
He was quiet.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he said at last. “But I’m here. I want to try.”
She turned her back to him.
“Get out, Zarred.”
This time, he did.
The door closed with a soft click.
Yarra stood there, alone again, heart pounding in her chest — not from fear, or anger, but something else she didn’t want to name.
Not yet.
- Writer
