The Boy Who Has No Redemption

by Victoria Quinn

  “I can’t picture my life without him, you know?”

  Oh, I knew all too well. My dad wasn’t just my father, but my friend. We were both physicians, so we had a lot in common, and I had no idea how he stayed so attached to every single patient when he’d lost so many in his career. How did he have the heart to care again and again? “Baby, I know you’re scared. I’d be scared too, if this was my father. But just remember that I’m the best of the best, and I will do everything I possibly can to return your father to you in a better condition than when I got him.” My colleagues recommended another surgeon take the case, because operating on someone you were so personally acquainted with was a bad idea. But there was literally no one better than me, and his best chance for survival for this complicated surgery was with me.

  “I know.” She dropped her gaze. “I keep telling myself that.”

  I stared at her face and found her presence comforting. She was my whole world, everything I would ever need for the rest of my life. It was my job to comfort her right now, but she comforted me without even realizing it.

  “Promise me.” She looked at me again, pleading with her eyes.

  I held her gaze.

  “Promise me. I won’t be able to sleep tonight if you don’t.”

  I never guaranteed anything. “I promise I will do the best I possibly can.”

  “Dex.” Her eyes started to water. “Promise me that you’ll give me back my father.”

  I inhaled a deep breath as I stared at her, feeling the weight on my shoulders, feeling his life in my closed hands as they rested on my thighs under the table. I would give this woman anything, even a promise I couldn’t keep. “I promise…”

  ***

  The night before the procedure was simple. Catherine made dinner in the kitchen, we watched TV on the couch, and since I had to sleep well, we agreed I would sleep in our bedroom alone while she took a guest room in our penthouse. I never took drugs for anything, but I decided to take some Benadryl before bed to make sure I would get plenty of sleep that night.

  Catherine and I barely spoke to each other. We were both stressed.

  She was stressed she would lose her father.

  I was stressed that I would kill my father-in-law.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  I left the living room and walked to the front door, already knowing who was on the other side before I even got there. I didn’t bother checking the peephole before I opened the door and saw my father standing there, in a black jacket, jeans, and boots. His lips didn’t rise with a smile when he looked at me, his eyes didn’t shine with inner warmth. Of all the people in this world, he understood the stress that consumed me.

  I stared at him, our eyes level because we were the same height.

  Dad nodded toward the hallway. “Let’s take a walk.”

  I grabbed my jacket and didn’t say goodbye to my wife before I joined my father in the hallway, down the elevator, and outside in the cold, crisp air of fall. The pavement was wet from the rain that had come earlier that afternoon. Windshields still had drops of water on them. The cold air was nice on my lungs, cleansing them of the stress, anxiety, everything else.

  Dad placed his hand on my shoulder as he walked with me. “Just remember, science only goes so far. There’s something beyond medicine that no amount of experience can help you understand. I’m not a spiritual man, but when it’s someone’s time, it’s someone’s time—and you aren’t the one who decides when that is.”

  I looked at him as I walked beside him. “I’ve only lost a few patients, and I believe there was nothing I could have done with any of them. They couldn’t survive the operation, but without it, they would have died anyway.”

  “Because there wasn’t anything you could do. The same applies to Allen.”

  “It’s different this time.”

  “It’s not too late to reschedule with a different physician—”

  “I’m the best. I’m his best chance.”

  He gave my shoulder a squeeze before he let me go. “Then do your best. And accept the outcome without guilt or blame.”

  ***

  I slept like a rock.

  I did my same morning routine—worked out and had a small breakfast—and then put on my scrubs and went to the hospital alone because I wanted my day to feel like every other day, to pretend it was normal.

  I didn’t see Catherine or talk to her family prior. I spent my time in my office, thinking and planning. When it was time, my assistant retrieved me, and I scrubbed in, leaving my wedding ring behind on my desk.

  Allen was on the table, breathing tubes hooked in, his catheter filling with drips of urine, the monitor beeping gently because his heart rate was normal. The light overhead was bright, shining right into his face. His eyes immediately shifted to me when I walked into the room, the nurses helping me with my gown and gloves to keep me sterile. He couldn’t see my mouth because it was hidden behind a mask.

  I approached the table and looked down at him. “You’re going to be alright, Allen. I’m going to take good care of you.”

  He gave a nod. “I know, son.”

  ***

  The monitor beeped gently in the background as I worked. I gave instructions to the nurses, asking for tools, checking his vitals, my hands still as they worked in his chest cavity to make the microincisions. The wrong cut could be catastrophic, but I had the best hands in the business.

  Everything was fine.

  Until it wasn’t.

  Allen went into cardiac arrest.

  I shouted orders to the nurses, pushed the drugs to stabilize his heart, checked for signs of unnecessary bleeding I may have caused.

  There was nothing.

  I never lost my calm, regardless of the events around me. I tuned out everything and worked with precision and efficiency. But he was slipping further and further away, his heart rate skyrocketing.

  Then it flatlined.

  “Fuck.” I took over from the nurses and pressed the paddles into his chest. “Allen, come on. Don’t you fucking do this to me.” I sent the pulse into his chest, making his body flinch, but his heartbeat didn’t return, he didn’t draw breath, and he already turned blue like an old corpse. “Goddammit, come on!” I kept trying and trying.

  The nurses knew it was over. They stepped back and let me work even though it was hopeless.

  Because he was gone.

  And I knew it too. But I kept trying anyway…just to put off the despair a little longer.

  ***

  Catherine and her family were in the lobby, waiting for an update.

  But I couldn’t go out there. I couldn’t look at their faces and watch their world disintegrate. I couldn’t look at my wife and tell her that her father was dead—and I didn’t even know why. I just couldn’t do it.

  So, I texted my dad. Walk outside and call me in private. He was in the waiting room with Catherine and her family, and I needed to talk to him, but not where they could see his reaction.

  A minute later, he called. “Son, how’d it go?”

  I bowed my head and rested my face in my hand, leaning forward in the chair in my office, feeling the tears explode like a dam that had cracked in several places at once. I didn’t say a word as I let the tears become audible, let the sniffles echo in my office.

  My dad was silent.

  Allen wasn’t just another patient I’d lost. He was a man I loved like a father. He was the man my wife loved with her whole heart. I lost him the way she just lost him. It was devastating to me as a man and a doctor, making the blow a million times harder.

  And to make it worse…it was my fault.

  Dad was quiet for a long time, just being with me on the phone. Then he spoke. “Son, I’m so sorry.”

  “I can’t go out there…”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “I can’t go out there and tell my wife I killed her father—”

  “You didn’t kill her father, Dex. You did everything you possibly could
, but in the end, it was out of your hands. We all knew his odds were slim to begin with. There was too much damage to his heart. It wasn’t strong enough. This is not your fault.”

  I took a few deep breaths and calmed myself, knowing I couldn’t hide in this office forever, that the conversation was inevitable because Allen was dead in the operating room and about to be taken to the morgue.

  “You’ve just lost someone, Dex. Join us in the lobby so we can be there for you. We all love you, no matter what. No one will blame you for this—especially not Catherine.”

  I nodded. “Okay…I’ll be right out.”

  ***

  The second I stepped into the waiting room, Catherine was out of her seat so fast, walking to me like she’d been staring at that hallway for hours without blinking. Her mother and brother slowly rose to their feet, their faces relaxed like they assumed I had nothing but good news to share.

  That made this so much worse.

  Dad and Mom sat in the row of chairs behind them, Derek there as well, with his wife Emerson. Mom and Derek seemed to already know because they looked bleak and didn’t rise from their seats.

  Catherine rushed to me, her hands moving to my forearms to latch on. “How’s he doing?” Her eyes searched my face, looking for an update on her father, assuming he was still asleep and recovering.

  I inhaled a deep breath as I looked into her face, my hands gently grabbing her forearms too. My eyes were probably visibly puffy and irritated, but she didn’t notice right away because her thoughts were exclusively on her father. “Baby…” I dropped my chin because I couldn’t do this; I couldn’t say it.

  Her hands relaxed on my arms, and she slowly pulled away.

  I lifted my chin and faced her like a man.

  Her eyes shifted back and forth frantically, reading my gaze and coming to the conclusion without needing to hear another word. She took a step back, her hands cupping her mouth as her eyes watered. “No…”

  I took another deep breath and felt my eyes water. “I’m sorry—”

  “Oh god.” She immediately collapsed to her knees on the floor, sobbing her eyes out as she bent forward, so devastated she couldn’t even stand any longer. “No. I can’t… No.” She clutched her chest and sobbed.

  Her mother fell back into the chair where she’d been sitting and gripped her own chest like she might have a heart attack. Her eyes immediately watered, and she cupped her mouth, hyperventilating. Her brother stayed with his mother, his arm moving around her, but he had tears like everyone else.

  Tears dripped down my cheeks as I watched a family break apart.

  “Baby…” I kneeled and wrapped my arms around her, holding her to me as I cried with her. “I’m so sorry. I’m…sorry.” I directed her face in my chest and listened to her cry harder than she’d ever had in the whole time I’d known her.

  Chapter Two

  Dex

  My perfect life had vanished.

  The funeral came and went, but no amount of time would heal the wound of Allen’s death. Time slowed way down, and every moment felt like an eternity. The sun never shone, and conversations were always difficult. My mom told me the hard times would pass and things would be good again. Just had to be patient.

  Catherine always looked lifeless, her eyes staring off at nothing in particular, even if the TV was on to watch her favorite show. She spent a lot of time at work, working as a lawyer at the nonprofit she was passionate about. My income allowed her to basically work for free, which made her much happier than being a corporate lawyer.

  But now, she wasn’t happy anymore.

  Six weeks had come and gone, and the woman I loved had become a ghost.

  She didn’t lean on me for support.

  She wanted nothing to do with me.

  We hadn’t had sex since before her father passed away, and while sex wasn’t important right now, I missed the intimacy. I missed loving my wife and feeling her love me back.

  I went to my brother’s place after work because I didn’t want to go home. She would be there, but I would be greeted with a dry kiss, disingenuous questions about my day, and then we would eat dinner in silence.

  I sat with him at the dining table with my beer in front of me, wearing my blue scrubs because I had been at the hospital doing paperwork and patient rounds. My fingers gripped the base of my beer bottle, and I stared at the liquid inside.

  Derek watched me, his arms folded on the table, a quiet sigh coming from his lips every now and then. Emerson took Lizzie and the boys to her parents’ so we could have some privacy.

  “She won’t even look at me.” I kept my eyes on the beer.

  “She’s depressed. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “Well, I’m depressed too.” I tapped the beer against the table and lifted my gaze to look at him. “I lost him too. It’s like she resents me, like I murdered him or something.”

  “That’s not what she thinks—”

  “Seems like it.”

  “How would we be if we lost Dad?” Derek asked gently. “I don’t think I’d be any better in six weeks.”

  “I understand that. I just…we should get through this together. But instead, she’s pushed me away. I’m devastated too. I loved that man too. And losing my wife isn’t making it any better.”

  “You aren’t losing her,” he said simply. “But…maybe suggest couples therapy. It would be good for both of you, especially right now. It can help you guys deal with the grief of it all. I’m not a fan of therapy either, but when I saw Dr. Collins, it did help.”

  I wasn’t a go-to-therapy kind of guy, but I would try anything at this point.

  “And people handle grief in different ways. Your job right now is to give your wife whatever she needs. And if space is what she needs, you have to give it to her. I know that’s difficult because it’s the opposite of what you need right now, but that’s what it means to be a husband—to put your wife’s needs above your own.”

  ***

  I stepped into the penthouse and immediately noticed the difference.

  The smell of dinner didn’t waft from the kitchen, music didn’t play over the speakers, the TV wasn’t on, most of the lights were off…like no one was home. I didn’t even shut the door behind myself before I stepped farther into the room.

  Because I saw her standing there.

  Her bags on the couch.

  Her arms crossed over her chest.

  Her eyes on the floor.

  My body immediately started to shut down, to grow angry and afraid at the same time. What I’d feared had come to pass. My instinct had been right this entire time. I could feel the energy radiating from her body day in and day out. “No.”

  She lifted her chin and looked at me, her eyes puffy and red like she’d already had a good cry before I came home. She kept her arms over her chest, totally cut off from me, like there was no negotiation.

  “Let’s talk. I’ve wanted to talk this entire time, but I knew I needed to wait until you were ready. If you’re ready now, let’s do it. Let’s go to couples therapy. But this conversation does not end with you taking your shit and walking out—”

  “You promised me.” The tears escaped her body with a jolt and cascaded down her cheeks, and her hand immediately covered her face to stifle her reaction. “You promised me he would be okay…and now he’s dead.”

  There was no way to describe the pain I felt at the implication of her words. “I did everything I possibly could, Catherine. Please don’t tell me you blame me for what happened.”

  She stilled her emotion and dropped her hand. “You never said what happened—”

  “Because I don’t fucking know what happened. I made no errors. His heart just wasn’t strong enough. It was his time. No other surgeon in the world would have had different results.”

  “You don’t know that—”

  “Yes, I fucking do know that.” I stepped closer to her, not wanting to raise my voice, but it was inevitable. The door was wide open
and our voices trailed into the hallway, but I didn’t give a damn right now. “Because I’m the best heart surgeon in the fucking world. That was why I agreed to do this surgery, because I knew your father would never get better care anywhere else. I put myself in this difficult situation because it was the right call for your father. You have no idea how much of a burden I carried for you—because I want to give you everything you deserve.”

  She dropped her gaze again.

  “I’m so sorry that you lost him. I loved him like a father, Catherine, so the loss has been devastating for me too. But we need to get through this together, not apart. For you to resent me for what happened is ludicrous.”

  She kept her gaze on the floor, her breathing deep and hard. She didn’t say anything, and it didn’t seem like she was going to.

  I noticed her wedding ring was gone and felt a painful burn in my chest. “We’ll get through this, alright? We’ll go to therapy and work through it. It’ll take some time for things to feel normal again, but we’ll get there.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. That was her cue to speak. She always did it, even in court. She opened her eyes again and looked at me. “I know it’s not your fault. I know you loved my father. I know you did everything you could. But…I just don’t think I’ll ever feel the same way again.”

  My body went into shock, going still and cold, and I stared at her blankly as she stabbed me a thousand times in a microsecond.

  “It’s always going to be there, and I look at you differently now.”

  Was this really happening? I closed my eyes and opened them again, wanting this to be a nightmare. But it wasn’t. “That’s what therapy is for, Catherine. We can work through this—as husband and wife.”

  She dropped her gaze, silently refuting the suggestion.

  “We just started trying to have a family. How can we go from that to this in only a few months?”

  She kept her eyes down.

  “I know you’re devastated right now. I get it. I’m trying to be understanding. But let me refresh your memory of our situation. We’re married. We’re committed to each other through bad and good, sickness and in health, forever. We put in the work to fight for this relationship and spend our lives together. We’re going to be buried next to each other in the cemetery down the road. That’s what we promised each other.”