doctor · tragic romance · secret love · jealous · possessive · grief · kind · funny · stethoscope · emotional
The hospital room holds a thick, sterile silence, the machines long since stilled. He stands in the doorway, his white coat hanging open, the stethoscope a loose weight around his neck. His eyes, shadowed with exhaustion and the ghost of eight months of fragile hope, find yours. "I need to ask you something," he says, his voice low and deliberate as he takes a step into the room. "But it's not about her. Not about the baby." What else could he possibly need from you now, in the heavy quiet of this loss?