**Autumn of Forgiveness**
*— Natalie, why would you do this? Let Dr. Harrison handle her!* — Nurse Ashley’s voice trembled as she hurried after the head of surgery, one of the finest in the hospital.
*— Ashley, prep the OR. We’ll need blood for transfusion. And get Ethan—I want him assisting,* Natalie commanded without slowing her pace.
In the emergency room lay a woman—thirtyish, dressed in black, one boot missing. Unconscious.
*— Hit on a zebra crossing. The driver was drunk,* the paramedic reported quickly. *Blood pressure’s dropping—suspected internal bleeding.*
*— To the OR. Now!* Natalie ordered, and two orderlies lifted the gurney.
*— Nat! Nat!* A frantic shout came from behind. She knew that voice instantly. Simon. Her ex-husband. The one who had left her for this very woman.
*— Is it true?* He gripped her shoulders. *Was it Emily who got hit?*
*— Simon, we’re doing everything we can. Now, excuse me—I have work to do.*
*— You? You’re operating on her? No! I won’t allow it! You want her dead?!* Fear, not anger, laced his words. Natalie gestured to a nurse, ordering a sedative.
The moment she stepped into the operating theatre, silence fell. She felt their stares, their judgment. But she didn’t waver.
*— Yes, it’s her. Yes, I’m operating. Because I’m a surgeon. One of the best in London. If anyone thinks I can’t do this, speak now. Otherwise—we work. We save her life. Understood?*
The surgery lasted three hours. Twice, Emily’s vitals dipped below critical. But Natalie fought. And she won. Emily would live.
*“A few days in ICU, and she’ll be fine,”* she texted Simon, slumped outside the door.
*— Nat… I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I’ll be grateful to you for the rest of my life!* He clutched her hands, weeping, even dropping to his knees.
*— Simon… Enough. It’s all in the past. Go home. You can’t see her yet. I’ll call if anything changes.*
Natalie made herself cheap instant coffee, collapsing onto the lumpy staff-room sofa with a stale pastry—the first time all day she’d noticed her hunger. Just as she closed her eyes, Ashley walked in.
*— You’re a bloody hero! I’m in awe! But why? Why save that… witch? She ruined your life!*
*— Ashley, I’m a doctor. The patient was bleeding. And as for the rest… Simon and I destroyed things on our own. I’m not even sure I ever truly loved him.*
*— You’re incredible,* Ashley whispered, pulling her into a fierce hug.
Days later, Emily was discharged. Simon arrived with two bouquets—deep red roses and delicate wildflowers.
*— These are for you, Nat. I haven’t forgotten…*
*— You shouldn’t have.* But she took them anyway.
*— Natalie… Forgive me. Thank you… for saving me,* Emily murmured, barely meeting her eyes.
*— It’s all in the past,* Natalie said softly. Mostly to herself.
Her shift ended. Home held only silence. Instead, she wandered through the old city centre, playing her favourite game—guessing people’s professions. Winner treated herself to coffee.
A man sat on a bench—wool coat, expensive watch, briefcase. *Solicitor?* Most likely.
*— Excuse me…* She hadn’t realised she’d approached him. *You wouldn’t happen to be a lawyer?*
*— Spot on,* he grinned. *And I’d wager you’re a doctor?*
*— How in the world—* She laughed, astonished.
*— More than that—a surgeon. And your name is… Natalie?*
*— Wait, how? Are you psychic?*
*— No, just literate. Your ID badge is right there,* he chuckled. *Speaking of—I’m Alexander.*
*— Then you owe me more than coffee—throw in a croissant!*
For the first time in years, Natalie laughed—really laughed. As if her heart had remembered joy. The autumn chill outside meant nothing. Spring had bloomed inside her.
