SHELBY
"Charging to 200! Clear!"
Thump!!
Nothing happened.
"Up to 300!" yelled a voice inside. "Again! Clear!"
Thump.
Nothing…
The monitor then went silent, slowly.
Time of death was... 15:30pm.
The trauma bay's air smelled more like the metallic tang of a life spilling onto linoleum than it did like medication. Instead of running like a doctor, Chief Conrad Shelby ran like a man attempting to outrun a ghost, his lungs burning with a frantic, jagged rhythm that resembled the woman's failing heartbeat as they wheeled her through the double doors. All he could see was a stray lock of dark hair trailing off the edge of the mattress, swaying with each frantic step the paramedics took. The rest of the world had faded into a smear of flickering overhead lights and the rhythmic, sickening thud-thud-thud of a gurney's wheels.
A resident shouted, "Make way! Traumatic arrest, coming through!" without realizing that the man he was pushing aside was this kingdom's ruler.
The shove didn't affect Conrad. When he arrived at OR two's entrance, all he could feel was the hallway's vacuum. As he pushed for the swinging doors, the cold sweat on his hands made the stainless steel handles feel like ice.
"You're not allowed in here, sir! "Stop!"
I was stopped by Sarah, a surgical nurse who had been following my instructions for three years. She tried to stop me from going into the OR by standing like a stone and slamming her firm gloved hand against my chest.
Sarah, move aside; my wife is in there. I can't let anything happen to her because she is everything to me.
""Chief, you know the protocol," she said.
I was no longer able to control my anger. I am the staff chief. I am currently the best damn pair of hands in this building! I am a board-certified surgeon! I shouted as loudly as I could. I cannot allow Lorienne to suffer any harm.
"I'm charging two hundred! Clear!" My anger was sliced like a scalpel by the muffled shout coming from inside the OR. My face was pressed against the door's tiny rectangular window as I froze.
I saw the flash of the paddles. I saw Lorienne's body—the woman who had kissed me goodbye that morning with a laugh about her driving up to her parents' country house later in the day to pick up Justin, our 3-year-old boy. I saw her jolt violently off the table. Her ribs cracked under the force. A sound that seemed to echo through the class and vibrate through my chest.
A long, flat, painful drone came from the monitor inside. "Eeeeeeeeeeee."
I kept an eye on the monitor's flat line, waiting for the slightest indication of a second chance—a spike or blip. However, nothing happened; after a period of silence on the monitor, she was declared dead at precisely 15:30 p.m.
Something died in me immediately.
***
Dr. Maxwell Gray remained in the OR during the quiet, sterile aftermath of that evening. His gloved hands shook as he stood over the chief's wife's corpse. He had seen the pure, passionate love with which Shelby looked at her, as well as the way he treated all the other women in the hospital following her death, as if they were just distractions to block out the sound of that flatline.
Gray knew the "Chief" was a broken man hiding behind a designer suit and a cold, calculating brilliance. He had watched Shelby go from a hurting widower to a legendary player, a man who treated hearts like he treated surgical sponges—useful for a moment, then discarded.
That was why, when Dr. Tracy Williams arrived in the winter chill just after Thanksgiving, Max felt a protective instinct he couldn't explain.
"She's different, Gray," Shelby had said a few weeks into Tracy's residency, leaning against the nurses' station with a predatory grace. "There's just something different about her, she's not like the other residents here.."
Gray's hand tightened around his pen, but he hadn't looked up from his chart. He believed Tracy was too innocent to be another prey Shelby gets to lure into his web.
***
Three years, two months, seven days, seventeen hours, forty minutes, and twenty seconds have passed since I lost Lorienne. I've thought about the scenario a thousand times. It should have been me, not her, who went to get Justin.
I'm a train wreck and will do a terrible job raising our son, so I had to give Justin to Lorienne's parents. A year after Lorienne passed, I had a strict schedule that included starting my day at work, going to the new bar a few blocks from the hospital after work, and definitely taking a random girl home and fucking her as if I didn't care.
I've never combined work and pleasure, but since life is unpredictable, why not make the most of it while it lasts? I had a brief meeting with a few residents and nurses. It was just sex, and until I met Dr. Lisa Montgomery, also known as Dr. Monty, I had never had sex with the same woman twice.
She recently moved to Larissa, where she was given the position of head of pediatrics. She was bold and assertive. I recall her telling me she wanted to fuck me as she entered my office. I accepted the challenge because no woman has ever been so straightforward and honest with me. She stuck to me like a bone to my throat, even though it was supposed to be an on-time thing. I suppose I've bitten off more than I could take.
Then came the Thanksgiving holidays, and I was really glad Dr. Monty was traveling for Thanksgiving; at least I would have my life back for a couple of days. It was literally a breath of fresh air without her being around and pestering me.
I made up my mind to take a break from women for the time being. I needed some time to myself, and I'm tired of the repetition. Then I saw her; she walked in with so much grace. For the first time since I said "I do" with Lorienne, I felt anxious and could feel the tension in the room. I couldn't hold back but asked her what her name was. "Tracy William," she said with a Midwestern accent.
I knew I had discovered something special right then. This time, I was going to make every effort to do it right.