Chapter Forty Two

Monday;

It was just past seven in the evening, and the soft glow of Midnight Mocha's lights made the café feel warm and inviting. I sat at a corner table with my Aunt Grace and Lea, the faint aroma of coffee and fresh pastries filling the air. The café was unusually quiet, with only one other customer—Victoria, a regular—sitting by the door, typing away on her laptop while occasionally nibbling on a slice of carrot cake.

I took a sip of my iced coffee, the cold sweetness a nice contrast to the rich flavors around me. "Hmm, Lea, when do I get to meet your girlfriend?" I asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Lea leaned back in her chair, her hand absentmindedly twirling a spoon. "I don't know," she replied with a casual shrug. "Whenever you want to."

Turning her attention to my aunt, Lea smirked, "Grace, when will you settle down?"

My Aunt glanced at Lea over her cup of tea, then shot her a toothy grin. "When I meet the right person."

Lea raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And have you?"

There was a brief pause as my aunt nodded slowly, her eyes meeting mine, a quiet sincerity in her gaze. I gave her a small, encouraging smile. Lea, never one to miss out on juicy details, clapped her hands together excitedly. "Do tell!" she urged, leaning forward eagerly, her energy lighting up the moment.

Aunt Grace laughed softly, the sound warm and light, as a faint blush colored her cheeks. She took a bite of her doughnut, savoring it before finally speaking. "Well, a doctor I work with asked me to be his girlfriend," she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

Lea, still twirling the spoon between her fingers, leaned in with a grin. "How did he ask you?" she pressed, her curiosity getting the best of her.

Grace's smile grew brighter, a playful scoff escaping her lips as she recalled the moment. "We were in the middle of a Cholecystectomy, of all things," she chuckled, "and he just blurted it out. At first, I had no idea who he was talking to, but then he asked again. It was...sweet, in a chaotic sort of way."

Lea laughed, delighted by the story, and then turned her attention to me, smirking as she threw her arm around my shoulders. "I'm happy for you, Grace," she said, then added with a teasing glint in her eyes, "Now we just need to get Val to settle down."

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my chair as I took another sip of my coffee. "I don't need to do anything," I said with a click of my tongue, brushing off the playful jab. "Right now, I'm just cruising through life."

Lea raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Cruising, huh?" she quipped, nudging me slightly, her tone light but full of mischief.

We spent the next hour lost in conversation, talking about our week and the small, everyday moments that had kept us busy. As much as I wanted to confide in my aunt about the chaos that was my love life, I held back. I didn't want to burden her with the messy details or open myself up to an interrogation. She'd only worry, and I didn't have the energy to explain everything.

When the bill came, Aunt Grace insisted on paying for our drinks and treats, despite Lea's playful argument that she should cover it. Outside, we said our goodbyes, watching as Lea mounted her motorcycle and sped off into the night, the roar of her engine fading into the distance.

I was about to head to the car when Aunt Grace gently grabbed my arm, halting me. Without a word, she led me toward a nearby bench. Confused, I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, but before I could, she tugged me down beside her.

She turned to me, her face etched with concern. "What's going on with you?" she asked softly, her eyes searching mine.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, the weight of her question hanging in the air. I debated whether or not to open up, my mind spinning with thoughts. "It's nothing," I replied with a nervous chuckle, avoiding her gaze.

Grace didn't buy it. She squeezed my hands gently, her warmth a silent encouragement. "Honey," she whispered, her tone filled with love, "you can tell me."

I glanced at her, biting my lip as I wrestled with my emotions. "I met someone," I finally admitted, watching as her eyes lit up in curiosity. But I hurried on before she could say anything. "She's... complicated. Rude, cold-hearted, jealous, a sadist, bitchy—"

Grace raised her hand, chuckling softly as she cut me off. "Whoa, okay, calm down," she laughed, shaking her head. "Sounds like quite the character."

I let out a long breath, laughing softly at how absurd it all sounded when I said it out loud. "She's... interesting, to say the least," I murmured, nodding to myself. "There are moments when she treats me differently, like she has actual feelings for me. And for a while, I actually believed she did." I sighed deeply, glancing at my aunt. "But then I found out she's been in a relationship for three years."

Aunt Grace's eyebrows shot up, her eyes wide with surprise. "Three years?" she repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah," I muttered, rubbing my temple. "It's funny, really. I tried to move on, started hanging out with someone else, but she scared that person away. Like, literally scared her off."

I wasn't ready to give my aunt all the details, not about who the woman really was or the fact that she was my professor. Or that she was probably twice my age. There were just some things better left unsaid.

My aunt pursed her lips, her expression thoughtful. "That's... strange," she said after a pause. "But also, she should be honest. Honest with you and especially with her partner. It's not fair to either of you to keep you both in the dark." She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, offering me comfort. "How much do you like this woman?"

I hesitated, shrugging. "I don't know," I admitted, feeling torn. "Every time she smiles at me, or does something remotely kind, which, mind you, is only about ten percent of the time, I get all... giddy inside. And the weird thing is, she remembers the smallest details I tell her."

Aunt Grace nodded slowly, her eyes scanning my face as if trying to read deeper into my thoughts. "So, you like her quite a lot, don't you?"

I let out a small, reluctant laugh. "Yeah," I confessed. "But it's complicated."

Grace squeezed my shoulder. "I think you need to talk to her. Get her to tell you what she really feels, where her head is at. You can't keep guessing and getting hurt like this."

She was right. As much as I dreaded the confrontation, I knew I needed to talk to Montgomery. Even if it was just to ask why she pushed Octavia away. "Alright," I sighed, the weight of the decision heavy on my chest. "I'll think about it."

My aunt's face brightened with a smile, and she slipped her arm through mine as she stood up, pulling me to my feet. "Good," she said cheerfully, "but for now, let's go home and eat an entire tub of ice cream." She gave a playful tug, leading me toward the car.

"Didn't we just eat?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as we walked side by side. Aunt Grace shot me a mischievous sideways glance, her lips curling into a smirk. "So?" she shrugged lightly, her voice teasing. "Ice cream will make you feel better. It's the law."

A soft chuckle escaped me as I climbed into the passenger seat. The idea of drowning my complicated feelings in ice cream wasn't the worst plan. In fact, it sounded like exactly what I needed right now—something sweet to wash away the bitter thoughts swirling in my mind.

Yeah, I thought to myself as the car door shut and the engine purred to life. Ice cream will definitely make me feel better. At least for a little while.

✿

Tuesday;

The next morning started off in chaos. I had been sleeping peacefully, lost in the kind of deep, comforting slumber that only seems to happen after a night of emotional exhaustion. That peace was shattered by the sudden, shrill ringing of my phone, yanking me from my dreams. Still half-asleep, I reached out blindly, fumbling around my nightstand. When I rolled over to try and get a better grip, I miscalculated and tumbled straight off the bed, landing hard on my butt with a loud thud.

Groaning, I scrambled to grab my phone from where it had fallen. "What?" I answered, my voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning, grumpypants," my aunt's cheery voice rang out, far too energetic for what I thought was the early morning. "Did you just wake up?"

I groaned again as I pulled myself up off the floor, rubbing my sore backside. "Yes," I grumbled, slumping back down onto the bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes with one hand. "What time is it?"

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then she spoke, her tone playful. "Just before noon."

I shot upright, my heart immediately pounding in my chest. Noon? How in the world had I slept in that late? I never slept in this late. "Crap!" I yelped, scrambling to get my bearings. "I was supposed to be at the hospital already!"

I could hear my aunt chuckling on the other end, clearly amused by my panic. "I know," she said, still laughing softly. "That's why I called you."

"Thanks!" I managed to say, quickly ending the call as I dashed around the room, trying to pull myself together. I had overslept, and now I had to rush to make up for lost time.

I knew I was just a volunteer at the hospital, meaning there wasn't a strict time to clock in, but I had promised Nurse Riley I'd help her with the lunch rounds. The thought of her doing it alone because of my carelessness made my stomach twist with guilt. I was already running late, and she'd have to pick up my slack.

Jumping into action, I took the fastest shower of my life, scrubbing at my skin as though time itself was trying to catch up with me. I barely looked at what I grabbed from my closet—just threw on the first clothes I could find. Skipping breakfast or lunch, whatever meal time it was at this point, I figured I'd grab something at the hospital later. With my teeth half-brushed and my hair quickly yanked into something that resembled a ponytail, I dashed toward the front door, snatching my keys on the way out.

The drive to the hospital passed in a blur, mostly because, well, I was definitely speeding. My heart raced along with the engine, but I didn't have time to care about that. Pulling into the hospital parking lot, I squeezed my car between a sleek wine-red Mustang and a pristine white BMW. Glancing at my humble little car between those polished machines, I couldn't help but think, Damn, I look so poor parked between these two.

Inside the hospital, I quickly made my way toward the nurses' lounge, the sterile scent of disinfectant lingering in the air as I hurried past bustling staff and beeping machines. As I pushed open the door, I spotted Nurse Riley sitting in her usual chair, casually sipping a cup of coffee.

"I am so sorry," I blurted out, flopping down into the chair opposite her. "I overslept, and I have no idea why."

Nurse Riley gave me a dismissive wave, her lips curving into a small, amused smile. "Don't worry about it, Valentina," she chuckled softly, setting her cup down. "I didn't die."

I let out a relieved breath, my fingers drumming absentmindedly on the table as I leaned back into the chair. "Do you have anything for me to do?" I asked, hoping to make up for my tardiness.

She pursed her lips, thinking for a moment, then shook her head. "Nope, nothing pressing at the moment." Her eyebrows rose slightly as if a thought had just occurred to her. "But I'm pretty sure your aunt was looking for you earlier."

I straightened up, pushing my chair in. "Any idea where she is?"

"Down by the pit," Nurse Riley said with a nod, and I flashed her a grateful smile before heading off to find my aunt.

In the pit, I found my aunt hunched over a patient, carefully cleaning a wound. The harsh scent of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the faint whiff of blood. As I moved closer, I caught sight of the injury and winced involuntarily. Damn, that is naaasty.

Forcing my gaze away from the gruesome sight, I focused on my aunt, who still hadn't noticed I was standing right next to her. I reached out and gently tapped her shoulder. She startled, her head snapping up in my direction, eyes wide for a split second before softening into a chuckle. "Val!" she laughed awkwardly, "You scared me."

I gave her an apologetic smile, my hands sliding into my pockets. "You wanted to see me?"

She nodded, returning her attention to the wound, her hands moving with practiced ease. "Yeah, I'm scrubbing in with Dr. Bryson soon, and we were wondering if you wanted to observe."

Immediately, I perked up, trying to suppress the rush of excitement bubbling inside me. "What kind of surgery?" I asked, my voice barely hiding the eagerness. Observing surgeries was by far my favorite part of volunteering here—it never got old.

"A prostatectomy," she said, glancing at me with that knowing smile. I hesitated for a second, mentally wincing at the thought of seeing a man's private parts. Well, I guess it's part of the job. Besides, getting to be in the OR was always a privilege, and I wasn't about to complain.

"When's the surgery?" I asked, swaying slightly on my feet, a bit nervous but excited.

"In about thirty minutes," she replied, glancing at her watch. I gave her a thumbs up and headed toward the restroom. Better empty my bladder now than wish I had while in the OR.

The next thing I knew, I was scrubbed in and standing in the OR, watching intently as Dr. Bryson made the first incision. His scalpel glided smoothly down from just below the navel to the pubic bone, revealing layers of tissue beneath. I found myself mesmerized by the precision in every movement. My aunt stood beside him, confident, composed—she looked like she belonged here, like the OR was her kingdom.

As the surgery progressed, I watched with fascination as the prostate gland was meticulously separated from the surrounding nerves and blood vessels. Every snip, every adjustment felt like a delicate dance. Dr. Bryson worked with focused intensity, removing the prostate and nearby tissues with practiced ease.

When he finally began closing the incision with sutures, I marveled at the way they worked together, my aunt assisting flawlessly. It was incredible to witness firsthand, the entire procedure like a finely-tuned machine, and I couldn't help but feel the rush of being part of something so life-changing.

Once the surgery wrapped up, I stepped out of the OR and discarded my scrubs. That was so cool. The experience of being in the operating room never got old. My aunt emerged soon after, slinging her arm casually over my shoulder as we walked toward the cafeteria.

"Was that not amazing?" she asked, her excitement contagious.

I nodded enthusiastically. "It really was," I agreed, still buzzing from the energy of the surgery.

At the cafeteria, we grabbed a quick snack—just enough to tide us over. My aunt seemed in a great mood, and she leaned in with a playful grin. "By the way, I won't be home for dinner tonight," she announced, glancing at me as she picked at her salad. "Dr. Bryson is taking me out to eat."

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Fine with me, on one condition—you have to bring me back something to eat too."

She laughed and agreed before checking her pager. Just then, she was called to an emergency room. "One of my patients is having an issue," she said, quickly finishing her drink. She gave me a quick pat on the shoulder before hurrying off.

Well, I guess it's time to visit Elizabeth, I thought. With my aunt busy, it seemed like the perfect time to check in on her.

I knocked gently on the doorframe, watching Elizabeth as she looked up from her book. Her face lit up, a bright smile spreading as soon as she saw me.

"Valentina!" she exclaimed, closing the book and sitting up straighter. "What on earth are you doing here?" She motioned for me to come in and sit on the couch.

I shrugged casually as I settled down beside her. "Had nothing better to do, so I figured I'd come and volunteer."

Elizabeth furrowed her brows, visibly confused as she took in my presence. "No TA duties today?" she asked, her tone curious. Clearly, Montgomery hadn't told her I quit. Strange—I would have thought she'd mention it.

"Oh, nah," I scoffed, leaning back on the couch. "That didn't exactly work out."

Her expression shifted, and she straightened up, concern evident. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice lowering. "What did Johanna do now?"

Yeah, no way was I going to spill the details of that messy situation with her daughter. I waved her off, trying to downplay it. "Don't worry about it," I said, forcing a small smile.

But Elizabeth wasn't buying it. She narrowed her eyes at me, leaning forward. "I know she did something. Johanna practically begged me to get you to talk to her, and mind you, she never begs for anything."

That caught me off guard. Montgomery? Begging? I didn't expect that, but I kept my face neutral, not letting on how much it threw me. "Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to act nonchalant, though my heart raced at the thought.

Elizabeth nodded eagerly, her smile widening. "Yeah, it was weird. I almost thought it was a doppelgänger," she chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Weirdest day ever."

"Interesting," I mused, leaning back against the plush couch, trying to imagine Montgomery begging anyone for anything. It was hard to picture. "Anyway, how are you holding up?"

Elizabeth sighed softly, her smile fading just a little as she shrugged. "As good as I can be, I guess," she admitted, a hint of boredom creeping into her voice. "I'm just incredibly bored."

"Maybe we should have another picnic?" I suggested, watching as her eyes lit up again. She clapped her hands together, practically bouncing in her seat.

"Yes, please!" she giggled, her excitement infectious. "Last time was so fun!"

We kept talking for what felt like hours, her stories flowing effortlessly. Elizabeth was the kind of person who could make you feel like you were the only person in the room, her warmth and kindness pulling you in. I admired her so much. She was everything Montgomery wasn't—kind, supportive, a great listener.

It made me wonder how someone like Montgomery could be so different. Maybe she got her personality from her father, I thought, idly tracing patterns on the armrest. Definitely not her looks, though.

I shook my head slightly, pushing thoughts of Montgomery aside. Elizabeth was still talking, her voice soft and engaging. I refocused on her, letting her words wash over me, content to listen. I could sit here for days, just hearing her stories, never getting tired of her company.