Actions Have Consequences

Just then, Sydney stormed into the room and saw everything. Her voice rang out sharp and angry as she marched up to me.

“Aaron, what the hell do you think you're doing? Is this some kind of workplace bullying now?”

I gave her a cold, sarcastic smile. “Workplace bullying? Please. I wouldn’t dare.”

“You’d think Dr. Grey would’ve reviewed the patient’s file before stepping into surgery,” I said flatly. “But nope, not even a glance. What does he think this is, playing house with scalpels? This is a hospital. Patients come first. You might be able to pull strings for a while, but you can't fake it forever.”

My words sparked an instant buzz around the room. It was as if people were just now realizing that Cedric only became an attending physician because of who he knew.

I didn’t care what kind of looks they gave me. I turned around and walked out without another word.

Sydney was furious. She chased after me, shouting, “You’re completely irresponsible! You don’t deserve to be a doctor!”

I didn’t respond. I just kept walking, expressionless, as I left the hospital behind. However, truth be told, I wasn’t as unaffected as I looked.

The reason I went into medicine in the first place had everything to do with Sydney. Her father was a gambling addict who’d beat her every time he lost, and her mom had a heart condition.

I still remember her, back in high school, saying she wanted to become a doctor so she could treat her mother herself. Hence, I made my choice and went into medicine too. Later, when we had to pick our specialties, I chose cardiology without hesitation.

Back then, helping her mom get better and letting her be with her mother longer was my goal; it was everything.

When she found out why I chose that path, Sydney cried. She hugged me so tightly and whispered that no one else in the world had ever treated her with the same love and kindness, except her mother. She told me she loved me and that she’d marry no one else but me.

Then, Cedric appeared. He publicly questioned my surgical plan, said my method was too risky, and that we should take the conservative route. However, Sydney’s mom was far past the point where conservative treatment could help. That would just mean throwing money at a slow, inevitable decline, and her family couldn't afford to keep up that kind of treatment back then.

What was more, her mom had come to me in private. She was willing to sign off on the operation. She wanted the surgery. None of us expected things to go wrong during the procedure, but it did, and she didn’t make it.

Afterward, Cedric made himself out to be the wise one. He pointed fingers and dropped hints that it was all my fault. Slowly, he turned Sydney’s mind against me, making her believe I was the reason her mother died.

That one failure became the unspoken wall between us, one we never got past. It tore through our marriage like a fault line.

Her mother’s death devastated me. For a whole month, I couldn’t even pick up a scalpel until I found out something that shattered me even more: Cedric had tampered with my IV fluids before the surgery and altered the saline concentration. That meant her mother’s death wasn’t just on me.

I told Sydney immediately, but she didn’t believe a word of it. She said I was making excuses and trying to shift the blame.

Looking back now, maybe she never really trusted me to begin with. In her eyes, Cedric always had a reason for what he did, and I was always wrong.

I smiled bitterly. As I stood by the road, about to call for a cab, I saw a little girl nearby holding a basket of flowers. She looked defeated, her shoulders sagging, eyes darting around the passing crowd.

Curious, I walked over. That was when I found out her grandmother was sick and needed expensive treatment. The girl, barely old enough to be working, was trying to make money selling flowers outside the hospital. Unfortunately, no one had the time or heart to stop for her.

I pulled out my wallet. “How much for all of them? I’ll take the whole basket. Go home and be with your grandma.”

Her eyes lit up like Christmas. “Really? You’re amazing, sir! You’re so kind!”

She handed me the huge bouquet of roses, beaming from ear to ear, before skipping away with the money in hand.

I stared after her, lost in thought. Would being kind do me any good?

As I turned around, I suddenly found myself face to face with Sydney and her group, all ready for dinner.

Cedric glanced at the roses in my hand and gave a chuckle, trying to ease the tension.

“Well, well. Dr. Hamilton, how romantic of you to buy flowers for Sydney.”

He looked at her and said feigningly, “Sydney, don’t stay mad, okay? Maybe Dr. Hamilton just acted out of impulse earlier. It’s fine, really. I wouldn’t want to come between you two.”

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t need to explain myself to him, but Sydney scoffed.

“Please. Like I’d want a cheap bouquet like that. He’s so spoiled it’s disgusting. Just because you’re an intern doesn’t mean you don’t deserve basic respect.”

Then, she turned to me and held out her hand.

“Well? What are you standing there for? Apologize to Cedric right now. Let’s just put this behind us.”

I stared at her hand for a second. Then, I stepped right past her without saying a word.