The hospital's cafeteria buzzed with the usual midday chaos—clinking cutlery, low hums of chatter, the hiss of the espresso machine. Rose sat near the window, her coffee untouched, the mug warm between her fingers.
Smart
She hadn't heard that name in years, yet the moment he'd spoken it, every buried feeling had surged to the surface like a tide she couldn't control.
She heard footsteps before she saw him. That easy stride. That slight tilt of confidence. A tray in hand, a crooked smile playing at his lips.
"Mind if I sit?"
Rose didn't respond right away. She lifted her eyes and met his gaze. The same stormy eyes she remembered, now rimmed with sharper maturity.
"It's a free country, Dr. Smart."
He smirked. "Ah. So it's 'Doctor' now. Good to know you haven't lost your fire."
He sat opposite her without waiting for permission, placed his tray down with the annoying calm of someone who knew how to get under her skin.
They sat in silence for a moment. Rose's stomach twisted. He looked different, yet not. Older, sure. Bulkier around the shoulders. His jaw now carried a faint stubble she didn't recall, but his smile? It was unchanged. Extremely familiar.
Her mind took her to a flashback.
High school. Debate club. The county finals. He had leaned over, a scribbled note in hand—Don't forget to mention the oil subsidies. You've got this, Rose.
She had.
They'd won. Then celebrated with milkshakes at some Diner. That was the night he kissed her. Soft. Hesitant. Her first real kiss. A promise lingering behind it. And then...
Then she'd left. For med school. For her dream. For a life that didn't leave room for boys with crooked smiles and poetry in their eyes. Smart had to go his own way for college too. But returned to the city during his first year of residency. They never dated but their feelings for each other back then was clear as day.
"So," he said, sipping his latte. "Is it weird that we're colleagues now? Or is that just me?"
"We've both grown up. I'm sure we can keep things professional." She said laughing.
"I wasn't very professional back then?" He asked, letting out a slight smirk.
Rose looked up sharply.
He chuckled. "Relax. I'm teasing. Mostly. I heard about the suspension. The reinstatement. Hospital politics are dirtier than high school elections, huh?"
"More lives at stake," she replied, tone crisp.
Smart nodded. "Well, I'm glad you're back. This place needs you."
Rose arched a brow. "You just got here. How would you know what this place needs?"
"Because I saw how everyone looked at you when you walked back into your department yesterday. Like the cavalry had arrived."
Rose tried not to let the compliment reach her. Tried. And failed.
"Smart—ohh please stop, " she said trying not laugh out loud.
" Smooth as always ."
"I know ma'am"
Then his eyes darkened, not with malice, but something heavier.
" Smart…. Why are you here, really?"
"New start. Transferred out after... a mess. Needed to breathe. This place? It's got ghosts for you. For me, it's a blank page. Maybe we both needed that."
She didn't press. Not yet. But her chest ached with too many questions.
Before she could speak again, her pager buzzed. She checked it and stood.
"Emergency surgery. Let's go."
He stood as well. "Guess who's going to help." He said teasing
Of course.
The OR was an icebox of tension.
Rose washed up silently, her eyes meeting Smart's only once through the glass. The nurses picked up on the subtle current between them. Whispers. Raised brows. But no one dared speak.
"Where's the lead surgeon.?" Rose asked .
"Everyone's busy doctor. The director said to let you check on it." The nurse said.
"Damn… these people always looking for the least opportunity to get me in trouble."
"Get ready to start then. Any available Doctor to assist."
"Right here Doc ." Smart said from a corner.
She chuckled slightly.
"Fill me in ." She asked the nurse
"The patient—a young woman with a ruptured ectopic pregnancy."
She was prepped and under anesthesia. Rose stepped into the lead surgeon's position. Smart took the opposite side.
"Scalpel," she said.
The nurse placed it in her gloved hand. Her first incision was precise. Clean. Smart monitored vitals and prepped instruments without needing instruction.
They worked like clockwork—until they didn't.
"Bleeding's escalating," Smart said, voice low.
"I see it."
"You're nicking the artery."
"I am not nicking the artery."
Smart looked up. "Rose, with respect—"
"Clamp," she snapped.
The nurse handed it over.
"Let me try repositioning—"
"I said I've got it."
A tense beat.
Then silence again as they resumed their rhythm.
The procedure took one hour. When it was over, the patient stabilized, and the room began to clear, Smart stayed behind.
"You were too aggressive with the clamp," he said softly.
She turned on him, her eyes sharp. "Don't lecture me. Not in front of the staff. ."
"I wasn't. I waited until we were alone."
She pulled off her gloves, tossed them in the bin. "You want to rehash high school debates too while you're at it?"
He held up his hands. "Okay. Truce. I just... care."
And that word. Care. It stuck in the air like fog.
Their eyes met again. Too long. Too full of things they didn't say.
That night, Rose sat in her office, reviewing charts, but her mind wasn't on her work. It was on Smart. On how his presence felt like a door she thought she'd locked forever, now swung open by fate.
A soft knock.
Lily entered, holding a sandwich and a sly smile.
"You eat or you die, babe. Take your pick."
Rose took the sandwich and sighed. "He's back."
"Smart?"
Rose nodded.
"Damn. Still hot?"
"Unfortunately."
Lily dropped onto the couch. "So what's the pla
n? Ignore him? Fight him? Fall back into bed with him?"
Rose groaned. "Lily, please."
Lily laughed. "Hey, I'm just your narrator. You write the plot."