Chapter 2
When Arthur finished writing, the morning light slipped through the curtains and landed on his hand. He folded the paper and slipped it into his white coat pocket.
Then he stood up and looked around the break room he'd spent the last three years in.
There were metal lockers, plastic chairs, and a few boxes of disposable masks and disinfectant stacked in the corner. A schedule was taped to the wall, with his name filling every week.
Not a single thing here was worth taking with him.
Maisy's office was on the third floor of the hospital, and she had the entire floor all to herself. When Arthur pushed open the glass door, the cleaning lady was busy wiping down her desk.
"Morning, Dr. Russell," the cleaning lady greeted him with a smile, wringing out her rag with a squeak.
"Morning," Arthur replied.
He walked over to the desk, took out the folded divorce agreement, and placed it right in the center. He paused, then pulled out Maisy's favorite pen from the pen holder and set it on top of the paper.
It was a limited-edition, which was a birthday gift from a supplier last year. She loved it and used it every day for signing documents.
The cleaning lady was still wiping the windowsill, her back to him, completely unaware of what he was doing.
Arthur turned to leave. When he reached the door, he paused and took one last look at Maisy's desk. There was a photo of her and her mother.
The woman in the picture looked to be about fifty, smiling warmly, her eyes gentle, dressed in a simple floral shirt, standing behind a cosmetics counter in a mall with rows of perfume bottles behind her.
Maisy looked a lot like her mother. Her mom had spent her whole life working at that counter, and three years after she passed away, Maisy opened a chain of hospitals.
Arthur turned away and closed the door.
As Arthur stepped out of the hospital, the morning sun made him squint. By the flower bed, an orange stray cat was hunched, half-asleep with its eyes barely open.
Arthur gave it a quick look, then took out his phone and called someone. After several rings, someone finally answered.
"Hello?" Reece Ryan's voice sounded groggy, as if he'd just been woken up, with the soft whir of medical machines in the background.
"Reece," Arthur said.
"Arthur? Do you even know what time it is? I just finished an emergency surgery and haven't made it to the parking lot yet," Reece muttered.
"It's 6:10," Arthur replied.
There was a brief silence on the other end. Reece had known Arthur for ten years, but this was the first time he'd ever gotten a call from him at this hour.
They were college roommates, spent countless nights in the anatomy lab, and competed in international surgery competitions together.
Reece had seen Arthur stand twelve hours straight in the OR without flinching.
When Arthur won awards, he'd just say, "Guess I got lucky."
But the way Arthur sounded now was something Reece had never heard before.
"What's wrong?" Reece's voice dropped, the grogginess gone in an instant.
Arthur stood on the front steps of the hospital, watching the city waking up in the distance. Morning sunlight slipped between the tall buildings, casting light onto the deserted street.
A street sweeper rolled by, leaving a wet streak behind.
Arthur parted his lips, realizing the words were stuck in his throat, harder to say than he thought.
"I want to come back," Arthur finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper.
There was a longer silence on the other end. Then Arthur heard a car door shut, followed by the low rumble of an engine. Reece must've pulled over to the side of the road.
"White Tower's door was never locked," Reece said, now fully awake, his voice careful, almost like he was afraid to hope.
"Arthur, are you really serious?"
"Yeah. I mean it," Arthur said quietly.
"All of it?" Reece asked.
"All of it," Arthur said.
Reece took a deep breath, and Arthur could hear him slowly exhale on the other end, like he'd finally let out a breath he'd been holding for three years.
"The annual conference is in Norhen next month. Your seat? I've kept it warm for you, no one else even gets to look at it.
The Arabon projects have been piling up on your desk these past two years. I sorted through some, but the rest are waiting for you.
"About those students you mentored, the youngest one published three top-tier journal papers this year. He said he's saving a dinner for you when you get back."
Arthur listened, the corners of his mouth twitching, he almost smiled, but in the end, the feeling just lingered inside him.
"Reece," Arthur said softly.
"Yeah?" Reece replied.
"Thanks," Arthur said.
"Cut the crap," Reece said, his voice a little rough, maybe from pulling an all-nighter, or maybe something else.
"Just tell me when you're coming, and I'll have someone pick you up."
"No need. I'll come on my own," Arthur replied.
After hanging up, Arthur lingered on the steps for a while. The orange cat woke up, stretched lazily, gave him a glance, and wandered off at its own pace.
He took off his white coat, folded it neatly, and set it down on the steps.
Then he stepped out into the quiet morning street.
Maisy found the divorce agreement at ten in the morning.
She'd been out drinking with clients until the early hours, and her temples were still pounding when she walked into the office.
Her assistant brought her a cup of black coffee, and after downing half of it, her mind finally cleared up.
As usual, her desk was piled high with documents waiting for her signature, plans for the grand opening of a new branch, supplier contracts, and next month's marketing budget.