Page 81 of The Potter

“Yeah, sure, but Vance—”

“See you at seven then.”

I slam the door, cutting off any more heart-to-heart discussions he might be contemplating and walk down the hall to the surgical suites.

I don’t know at what point I decided that now was the time to face my demons, but I do know that it’s Halle’s fault.

Sitting with her on the balcony of our room, watching the sun come up while she spoke of forgiveness and hard work to get where she’s at, I couldn’t imagine making her suffer one more moment without giving her what she desired—what she deserved.

A fresh start.

A new beginning.

Even if it comes at the expense of knowing that my time with her will come to an end. But that was always the case. Halle was never supposed to make a career out of being Astor’s secretary. She wants more for her parents—herself—and she deserves it.

I just wish she had a better surgeon than me. Someone who doesn’t vomit at the sight of the double doors and scrub sinks.

Logan might have died in the recovery room, but the operating room was the catalyst—at least that’s what Dr. Johnson, my therapist, claims. But this room, the one that I’ve entered thousands of times, full of arrogance and demands, is now full of pain and humility as it reminds me that no one can play God, not even me.

The operating room humbled me.

It brought me to my knees with the pain of a thousand mistakes all in a matter of a few hours.

Had I been more prepared, more thoughtful in Logan’s case, things might have turned out differently. And now, Halle is stuck with a surgeon she thinks is worthy of giving her the new life she deserves.

I’ve never felt like an imposter until now.

She’d be better off with Duke or Astor, yet she won’t even discuss it. After our time together in Napa, she’s been even more determined to see this plan of hers through. She’s missed so much in her life. The simplest pleasures have been taken from her, and she, understandably, wants them back.

At the end of the hall, the doors to the OR stand between me and Halle’s future.

It’s just a room, Vance. It’s just like an exam room—sterile, cold, and familiar.

And haunting.

My heart pounds against my chest, and my breathing turns shallow as I approach. I was wrong; I can’t do this. I’ll black out before I even walk through the doors. Stopping, I lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

But I’m unable to. I can already feel the unconsciousness creeping in It won’t be long before it consumes me. Halle has to understand that she can’t stay here forever. She wants to move on, and I’m the only one standing in her way.

“Vance?”

Oh, fuck.

I pinch my eyes shut and slide down the wall. “I’m okay.”

I can feel the heat of her body before her hand slides in mine, a quiet comfort as she just sits there, not saying anything else.

Hours could have passed, but I’m thinking it was more like minutes, when I finally realize my breathing has normalized, and my heart doesn’t feel like it’s slamming against my rib cage.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the inside of an operating room,” she finally says.

I grunt. “If you weren’t so stubborn, I’d never let you see the inside of another one. You don’t need the scar revision, Peach.”

You’re perfect exactly as you are.

“It’s not about the scars anymore, Dr. Potter.”

I pry open my eyes and turn my head to the side, finding her piercing gaze full of fearless determination. “It’s about finishing what I started. The scars might have given me the excuse to change my life by setting goals to put me on the path to my dreams, but over the years, I’ve learned that the scars don’t define me, only I can do that. This scar revision is an end to who I was and the beginning of who I am now and who I will continue to be. By doing my revision, you’re offering me closure. You’re erasing all the reasons to look back on who I used to be. I don’t want to remember what happened, just what I learned from that incident.”

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