Friends With Benefits

20

The residents gathered around the break room table, the conversation shifted to the upcoming wedding. They all shared a collective sense of disbelief, with the excitement about Miranda's engagement fading into the reality of their exclusion from the event.

"Can you believe we weren't invited?" one of the residents said with a mix of disappointment and disbelief.

"Honestly, why would we expect to be invited to an attending's wedding, let alone Miranda Bailey?" Ben replied, laughter edging his voice. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, trying to mask the unease creeping into his chest.

"Yeah, you're right," another resident chimed in. "She's like... attending royalty now. We're just the peasants. It's not like we even know her that well."

"Speak for yourself," someone else retorted. "I've seen her in the OR more times than I can count. That practically makes us best friends." The group erupted into laughter.

Ben couldn't help but join in, though it felt hollow. He nodded along as they joked, but the truth hung in the air—a bitter reminder of what he had lost. The thought of Miranda being someone's bride, even if it wasn't his, felt like a punch to the gut.

They began talking about the future, imagining their lives in a few years. "Can you imagine? We'll be the attendings, calling the shots," one resident mused, a dreamy look on their face.

Ben sighed, staring into his coffee cup. "Yeah, sure. But I don't know... my life isn't where I want it to be right now," he admitted, his voice quieter than the surrounding chatter.

"Aw, come on, gramps" a mischievous grin spread across one of their faces. "You're just in a little slump. You'll bounce back.

"I don't know about being called Gramps. But you guys know what, let's do something fun tonight. How about we get some drinks after work?"

"Now that sounds like a plan," another resident replied enthusiastically. "I could use a drink or five."

After their shift ended, they gathered at Joe's. The group found a table and ordered a round, quickly diving into conversations about work, career goals, and the lives they wanted to build outside of medicine. Ben listened, but his thoughts kept drifting.

One of the residents turned to him. "So, Dr. Warren, where did you picture yourself by now?" he asked

Ben took a sip of his beer and leaned back in his chair. "Not exactly here, if I'm being honest," he said, a hint of a chuckle in his tone. "I thought I'd be in L.A. by now, finishing up a plastics fellowship. And making a name for myself. Maybe have a wife and some kids" He paused, glancing down at his drink. "But life doesn't always go the way you plan."

"Yeah, but you're still doing great," another resident chimed in. "Everyone knows you're one of the top residents. You've got skills in almost every specialty. That's gotta count for something, right?"

Ben managed a smile. "Sure, but sometimes it feels like I'm just spinning my wheels, you know? Like I'm waiting for the next thing to come along and shake things up."

"Maybe you need to take a risk," He said, as if the thought had just occurred to him. "You're not exactly one to sit still. You left being an anesthesiologist to be a surgical resident, that took balls. So I know you aren't scared of challenges."

"I guess" Ben nodded

"Look man, I don't know what's bothering you but, oldhead I know you can fix it."

The words hit a little too close to home, and Ben swallowed the response that formed in his throat. He glanced around the table, realizing how easy it was for the others to be optimistic. They still had time to figure out who they wanted to be, while he had been circling the same questions for years. He drained the rest of his beer, his mind wandering back to the one person who had managed to shake up his world without even trying.