C7 Chapter 7 : The Post-Surgery Ambush

Ethan emerged from the OR, his scrubs soaked in sweat, his hands trembling ever so slightly—not from fear, but from the adrenaline still coursing through him after eight hours of delicate surgery. He’d battled through every complication, every setback, and had finally pulled his patient through. It had been a hard-won victory, but for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to feel that rush of relief, that brief respite before the next crisis.

He was halfway to the locker room when he heard her.

“Dr. Blake,” Jenny Dewey, the head nurse, called out, her voice oddly calm, though there was a sharpness beneath it. “I need you to scrub in again.”

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat, his entire body going still. He didn’t turn to face her immediately, unwilling to let her see the frustration flaring up inside him. His dark almond-shaped eyes fixed on the tiled floor, his fists clenching at his sides. Not again. Not right after this.

His voice, when he finally spoke, was laced with barely contained annoyance. “For what?”

Jenny paused, clearly uncomfortable with his tone, but she had no choice. “Dr. Spencer had to leave—urgent personal matters. His patient is prepped and waiting. We need you.”

Ethan turned to face her then, his jaw tight. A sharp breath escaped his nose, and his voice dropped to a razor-thin edge. “When exactly were you planning to tell me?”

Jenny’s lips tightened, her fingers twitching around the pen in her clipboard. She gave a hesitant shrug, as if the urgency of the situation hadn’t been enough to prepare her for the confrontation. “I just found out myself. But the team’s ready. You’re the only one who can handle it.”

Ethan blinked, the weight of her words settling over him. He could feel the familiar ache in his chest. It wasn’t the first time he’d been thrust into this situation. In fact, it felt all too familiar—one case after another, no breaks, no time to pause and breathe. He had fought for hours to save one life, and now they wanted him to dive straight into another. He took a slow breath, forcing the anger down before it could surge.

He reached out to take the patient’s file, flicking through it with a sense of dread. His heart sank as he noticed the incomplete notes, the missing lab results—the usual mess of half-prepared cases thrown at him last minute. The pattern was always the same. His stomach churned, and his mind raced with a single thought: Here it is again.

For a split second, he let his gaze drift to the floor, the frustration bubbling up once more. Another patient. Another rushed, under-prepared case. Another moment where he wouldn’t get the chance to rest. He was running on empty, but he couldn’t stop. Not when someone’s life hung in the balance.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath.

He met Jenny’s gaze, his voice steady but laced with the weight of exhaustion. “Get me everything I need—everything. I don’t want any more surprises.”

Jenny’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second, before she nodded and backed away, knowing there was nothing more she could do.

Ethan stood there for a moment, the hallway still and quiet around him. Here it is again. The never-ending cycle. But despite the mounting fatigue, the hours without rest, the feeling that he was losing himself in it all—he knew there was no other choice. He could turn away, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

With a deep breath, he walked toward the OR once more, the weight of duty pressing down on him, a constant reminder of why he’d chosen this path.