Dr. Patel was waiting outside the ward when I arrived.
“I’m sorry,”
“Your patients have been reassigned,” she said. “I need your badge.”
“Why?”
“You married an 18-year-old patient and now stand to inherit her money.” She clenched her jaw. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“But I transferred her care…”
“I need your badge.”
“Marrying a patient crosses a professional boundary. Transferring her care didn’t erase that.”
“Am I losing my job?”
“That’s what the review has to determine.”
She held out her hand.
I unclipped my badge and gave it to her.
“You married an 18-year-old patient.”
***
At home, I finally unfolded Alicia’s note.
Grandma had left each sister money for school and a fresh start.
You told me you worked your way through school. Everyone calls you lucky to be a doctor. I don’t think they know what it cost.
I felt seen in a way I hadn’t felt before.
I finally unfolded Alicia’s note.
Nora still has her half. I can’t use mine for the life Grandma wanted me to have. Maybe it can give you some of yours back.
The wedding was something I wanted. This is something I want to give you. You deserve to have a good life, doc.
There was a smiley face beside her name.
This is something I want to give you.
***
My parents invited me to dinner that night.
Mom put rice on my plate, and for a few minutes I let myself feel looked after.
“Any news?” Dad asked.
“Not yet,” I said.
Then Mom set down her fork. “Who was this girl, Lucas? Why risk everything for her?”
“Any news?”
I told them about Alicia, but when I mentioned her age, their faces dropped
“Eighteen!?” Dad shouted. “Why would you marry an eighteen-year-old patient?”
Mom put her hands over her mouth.
I explained the prognosis, her wish, the absence of romance.
Dad waited until I stopped. “But why did you say yes?”
“Eighteen!?”
“Don’t make it sound weird. It wasn’t like that.”
“That doesn’t answer the question,” Mom said.
“I’m asking why you married her.”
I stared at my plate.
“Because there wasn’t anything else I could do for her.”
“Oh, Lucas.” Mom’s voice softened. “That doesn’t mean marrying her was the solution.”
“Don’t make it sound weird.”
I wanted Dad to disagree.
He reached for his water instead.
They knew me. Neither believed I’d chased her money.
Neither thought that made the marriage right.
Dad finally asked, “Do you need money while this plays out?”
I wanted Dad to disagree.
“No.”
“Lucas.”
“Maybe. I’ll tell you.”
They hugged me at the door.
I held on, relieved that their love hadn’t changed.
“No.”
***
At home, I began the account the hospital had requested.
I typed that Alicia had insisted, then stopped.
She had asked. I had agreed.
I changed the sentence.
Explaining my decision without hiding behind her wish took most of the night.
I had agreed.
I sent it before I could soften it again.
***
Later that week, Nora posted the wedding photograph online.
