Elena's POVThe surgery went perfectly, which somehow made everything worse. For four hours, Tristan and I worked in perfect synchronization, our hands moving in practiced harmony around Mr. Henderson's open chest. I anticipated his every need, passing instruments before he asked, adjusting retractors, monitoring vitals. In the OR, we were partners.It was the only place we ever were."Excellent work," Tristan said as we closed, and for just a moment, his eyes met mine over his surgical mask. There was something there, a flicker of acknowledgment that made my heart race. Then it was gone, and he was all business again. "Elena, handle the post-op notes. I have a meeting."A meeting. With Serena, no doubt.I finished the paperwork and changed out of my surgical scrubs, my body aching with exhaustion. The nausea had returned with a vengeance, and I barely made it to the bathroom before I was sick again. When would this end? The pregnancy books said twelve weeks, but I wasn't even at nine
Last Updated : 2026-02-12 Read more