UNKNOWN GUEST

#48 Last Day As My Doctor

Dr. Cho sat across from me, her gaze fixed on the coffee mug she was absentmindedly stirring. The dark liquid swirled around, reflecting the dim light from the room. I called out softly, "Dr. Cho?" But she didn't respond, lost in her own thoughts. We were seated by the glass wall of the tower, watching the sun's final rays disappear behind the distant hills. The sky was a fading mix of orange and purple, but even the beauty of the sunset seemed to have no effect on her.

I tried again, a little louder this time, "Dr. Cho?"

She finally turned to me, as if snapping out of a deep trance, "Huh? You talking to me?"

It was like she'd just woken up from a long nap, her mind still elsewhere. I sighed, sensing the weight she was carrying, "Yes. Are you okay?"

She sighed too, taking a small sip of her coffee, "Hmm. Just... living."

I looked away, understanding the hopelessness in her voice. The silence between us felt heavy, almost oppressive. I decided to ask something simple, hoping to ease her tension, "How was your day?"

She scoffed, her frustration evident, "Couldn't get worse. I just stood here and there like a tree, doing absolutely nothing. I wasn't assigned any task today."

I shook my head, feeling her frustration. Her voice dropped to a quiet tone, almost a whisper, "My CV's getting rejected from domestic clinics too. I've lost the battle, Jason."

Her words hung in the air like a dark cloud. I sighed and looked at her, searching for something to say that might lift her spirits, "Tell me, what could you do if not tissue engineering?"

She opened her mouth as if to answer but then hesitated, her shoulders slumping a bit, "I don't know. I'll have no luck in any other field. If I just... hadn't hugged this false fantasy of becoming a decent worker in my field."

Her voice trembled with a mix of frustration and sadness. I shook my head, trying to be the voice of reason, "No. You couldn't do anything else because... you didn't take tissue engineering as a casual drive. You took it as a lifelong journey. It wasn't a false fantasy, but a sure destination."

In my mind, I added silently, You're destined to become great, Dr. Cho. You can't give up.

She managed a small smile, nodding slightly, "Thank you for your well-portrayed encouragement, Jason. But I'm giving up already."

I shook my head, refusing to accept her resignation, "Not yet. Oscar is in 19 days. You remember, right?"

She raised an eyebrow, a flicker of interest returning to her eyes, "I didn't say yes about my decision."

I shrugged casually, trying to keep the mood light, "Didn't say no either."

She rolled her eyes but smiled, the tension easing just a bit.

Dr. Cho set to work, connecting the scanner to my wound with a focused expression. Her eyes narrowed at the screen, clearly analyzing the data. After a few moments, she removed the device and reached for the zipper on the left side of my pajama pants. Panic surged through me, and I swatted her hand away.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaimed.

She sighed, clearly exasperated. "Putting on a show for them."

My uncles and I all looked at her in shock. "What?!" we chorused.

Dr. Cho rolled her eyes. "To unwrap the bandage."

I nodded, relieved that it was nothing more scandalous. "Okay."

Dr. Cho reached for the zipper on the leg of my pajamas, carefully pulling it down to my thigh. With deft fingers, she began to unwrap the bandage. As the layers came off, I saw the healing spot—it was almost normal skin, just a bit red and irritated.

She shook her head, clearly impressed, and then turned to me. "You haven't consumed anything weird, have you?"

Confused, I replied, "No. Why? Is it worse?"

She shook her head again, frustration mixed with curiosity in her tone. "No, how on earth—" She sighed, giving up on trying to understand. "It's all good. You're healed, just in 20 days, while I expected it to take almost five weeks."

Her gaze shifted to Uncle Clint and Uncle Tony, who were standing at the doorway, then back to me. "So I was wondering if you've consumed anything weird, since you've been working and living with some super-weird people."

Uncle Tony's eyes widened in indignation. "Excuse me?!"

Dr. Cho shrugged nonchalantly. "Excuse you. Who else can perform heart surgery on his own heart by himself?"

Uncle Tony fell silent, clearly taken aback by her bluntness.

She turned back to me, her gaze expectant. I shook my head, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "No, I'm all fine because...my doctor gave all her skills to cure me. Right?"

I felt a pang of guilt, knowing that the real reason behind my rapid recovery was the super serum in my blood. In the corner of my eye, I caught Uncle Clint giving me a knowing look—he was the only one who knew the real deal.

Dr. Cho sighed, clearly not entirely convinced, but she seemed to accept that the situation was okay for now. She shook her head once more, probably thinking that there were just some mysteries she'd never understand.

As the final checkup wrapped up, Dr. Cho handed me a piece of prescription paper, an ointment to apply for the next few days. She started gathering her things, preparing to leave, and I stood up as well. "Let me see you off, since it's your last day as my doctor," I offered, my voice light but sincere.

She rolled her eyes, but the faint smile on her lips betrayed her approval. Uncle Tony and Uncle Clint exchanged a glance, but they knew better than to ask any questions. The two of us walked to the elevator, the door closing with a soft whoosh behind us.

The silence lingered for a moment until Dr. Cho cleared her throat, breaking it. "So, after getting all better, you ready to jump into action, huh?" she asked, her tone teasing.

I shook my head. "Not really. Since SHIELD has sunk in depth, I'm unemployed, basically."

She chuckled softly, nodding. "Well, seems like we both are jobless?"

I remembered her situation and looked at her. She sighed, her eyes fixed on the LED display of the elevator. "This Friday is my last day at the hospital. Never imagined the weekend would be this bad."

The elevator came to a halt, and we stepped out, walking toward the exit in comfortable silence. When we reached the door, she paused, waiting for a cab to pass by. A thought popped into my head, and I blurted out, "Let's meet this Saturday, then."

She turned to me, her expression curious and a bit confused. "What?"

I nodded, stepping a little closer. "You said this weekend is going to be bad. Let's make it a fun one. Let's meet this Saturday. I won't stay here either, probably leaving with Clint. So, what do you think?"

She sighed, looking down as if considering it. I started to feel a bit self-conscious, thinking she wasn't interested. I opened my mouth to take back the suggestion, but before I could say anything, she pulled a card from her purse and slipped it into the pocket of my hoodie.

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with a playful spark. "That's my number. Since you don't have a phone."

A cab pulled up, and she slipped inside, her smirk turning into a smile as she closed the door. I called out just as the cab started moving, "My phone is broken!"

The cab drove off, and I reached into my pocket, pulling out the card. Her name, Dr. Helen Cho, was printed on it, along with her number. I couldn't help but smile, reading the digits again.

 Gosh, I really need to buy a phone.