Ava Bekker Chicago Med Novels & Stories

Ben asked rushing to help me out of the car. “No dude I’m fak…” Just then another stabbing pain erupted in my chest and I stumbled forward, but Ben caught me just in time. Dad came rushing around the car and between the two of them, they got me into the alpha’s quarters where Becka was waiting on me. “Doc I really…” “Alpha’s orders Gunner. Sorry. If you don’t sit your ass down and let me monitor your vitals, I’ve been ordered to knock your ass out.” Becka cut me off. I looked at both Ben and my Dad in disbelief.

"Or perhaps it's because she wasn't willing to marry him. She doesn't live here, but in Everport." Seeing Beverly's distress, she added, "Chief Bronson visited her even after he registered his marriage with you." Beverly looked stunned. Hearing Harold and Esther's cheers, she turned toward the manor's entrance. They were chatting and laughing with James. The moment she looked over, her eyes met James' as he glanced back. "Is she an exceptionally remarkable woman?" Beverly asked in a lowered voice. "Yes," Jessica answered. When she saw Beverly's expression darken with sadness, she emphasized, "She's a renowned cardiothoracic specialist in Everport."

"So you are saying that I have a hand in that?" I didn't utter a word. In response to my silence, Becky continued, "I swear, Seven. I know nothing about what you accuse me of. If I remember correctly, I told the medical team to do anything to make you better. I never gave the orders for them to tamper with your legs or make you cripple. Why would I even do such a thing to you?" At that question, my anger quadrupled. I was lost for words at the same time. I hung up the phone before Becky could say anything more.

She was looking at the rain. “I know but my mind isn’t ready to believe that you don’t know my wife. I never found her dead body. My men searched the area inch by inch, there was no trace of her blood or flesh.” “I am sorry to hear this but I can assure you,” She looked at me, her eyes were empty, “I am not the person you want me to be. I am Dr. Becca Miller. I am a human. Stop searching for your wife in me. I am not someone’s substitute.” She said.

I just left when I could not sit at my desk anymore and stared at a case file I was not reading and pretended everything was normal. Beckett was in the kitchen. Not cooking. Just standing there with a glass of water looking at the city the way he did when he was thinking through something difficult. He turned around when he heard the elevator. He looked at me. I looked at him. And something that I had been holding very carefully all day at significant personal cost started to come apart slightly at the edges. Not dramatically. I did not cry. I was not going to cry about Phillip Strand and a comment section on a financial news website.