The Seven-Year Wound
426 Views · Ongoing · Ryu
I ran into Arthur again in the ER. Seven years ago, he was the man who kept me.
He had brought his fiancée in. I was the trauma surgeon on call.
I opened Cecilia's abdomen with my own hands and pulled her back from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy that was bleeding her out.
Outside the OR, Arthur sneered that since I'd failed to sleep my way up back then, now I had to work myself half to death for a paycheck.
I nodded calmly and agreed with him. He took that to mean I wanted back into his bed.
What he didn't know was this: whatever I threw away seven years ago, I never look at twice.
He had brought his fiancée in. I was the trauma surgeon on call.
I opened Cecilia's abdomen with my own hands and pulled her back from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy that was bleeding her out.
Outside the OR, Arthur sneered that since I'd failed to sleep my way up back then, now I had to work myself half to death for a paycheck.
I nodded calmly and agreed with him. He took that to mean I wanted back into his bed.
What he didn't know was this: whatever I threw away seven years ago, I never look at twice.















































