Bound by the Waves

Chapter 4: Offer

The early morning light streamed through the blinds of my office, casting long shadows on the paperwork that seemed to have multiplied overnight. I rubbed my temples, willing the headache to fade, but it clung stubbornly, a reminder of my restless sleep.

The night before had been a blur—laughter, food, and the comforting presence of my friends at the restaurant. But now, back at the hospital, the weight of responsibility was creeping back in, trying to reclaim its hold on me.

I was just about to dive into patient charts when a knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Dr. Alvarez?" It was Dr. Reyes, one of the hospital's senior surgeons. His graying hair and sharp eyes betrayed years of experience, and his presence always seemed to command attention. "Do you have a moment?"

I nodded, gesturing for him to come in. "Of course, Dr. Reyes. What's on your mind?"

He closed the door behind him and took a seat across from me, his expression thoughtful. "I wanted to talk to you about an opportunity that's come up—a medical mission to Aramora."

I blinked, the name catching me off guard. Aramora was a small, remote island nation I had only heard about in passing, nestled somewhere in the southern seas. It was known for its pristine beaches, rugged terrain, and close-knit communities. But it was also a place in dire need of medical care, with limited access to advanced healthcare facilities.

"A medical mission?" I echoed, curiosity piqued. "To Aramora?"

He nodded. "The government has reached out for assistance. They're dealing with a healthcare crisis—rising cases of infectious diseases, malnutrition, and a lack of proper medical infrastructure. They need skilled doctors to help stabilize the situation, and I thought of you."

The offer hung in the air between us, heavy with possibility. A part of me immediately felt the pull—the chance to make a real difference, to step out of the confines of the hospital and into a world where my skills could save lives in ways I hadn't imagined. But another part of me hesitated, the familiar weight of obligations back home rearing its head.

"I know it's a big decision," Dr. Reyes continued, sensing my uncertainty. "It would mean a few months away from the hospital, but the work you'd be doing could change lives. It's not glamorous, but it's meaningful."

A few months. The thought lingered. It would be an escape, not just from the pressures of my family but from the growing feeling that my life had become too routine, too controlled. Aramora could be a chance to rediscover something—to find a deeper sense of purpose.

But then there was the other side of it. My parents, my responsibilities here. Could I really just leave?

"How long are we talking?" I asked, trying to buy myself time to think.

"Six months, give or take," he replied. "There’s a small team forming now—physicians, surgeons, nurses. There's also a small hospital there. We’d be setting up temporary clinics in rural villages, focusing on education as well as treatment. It’s hard work, but incredibly rewarding."

Six months, away from the noise of the city and the demands of my family. The idea was tempting, almost too tempting.

"When would they need us to leave?" I asked.

"Next month," Dr. Reyes said. "But I’ll need your decision soon, so we can finalize the team."

I nodded slowly, my mind racing. A month. I could prepare in a month. And it wasn’t like I was running away—this was important work. This was a chance to help people who desperately needed it, and wasn’t that why I had become a doctor in the first place?

"I’ll need to think about it," I said finally, though my heart was already leaning toward a yes.

"Take your time," Dr. Reyes said with a kind smile. "But don’t take too long." With that, he stood up, giving me a small nod before leaving the room.

As the door clicked shut behind him, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. Aramora. The name alone felt like a promise of something new, something uncharted.

Before I could think too deeply about it, my phone buzzed on the desk. A quick glance at the screen told me it was my mother.

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen, but then I answered, knowing I couldn’t avoid her forever. "Hi, Mom."

"Sydney! I’ve been meaning to call you. About dinner this weekend—"

"Mom," I interrupted, my voice sharper than I intended. I took a breath, softening my tone. "I might be going away for a while. There's a medical mission I’ve been asked to join."

"A mission?" she echoed, clearly taken aback. "Where? How long?"

"To Aramora. It’s for a few months."

"Aramora? That’s... far." She paused, her voice laced with concern. "But what about your job? Your responsibilities here?"

"It’s part of my job, Mom," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. "They need doctors, and I can help. This is what I trained for."

"But... what about Mr. Salvador?" she asked, her tone hesitant now.

The mention of his name made my stomach clench. "Mom, I don’t care about Mr. Salvador. I’m not interested in that right now."

There was a silence on the other end, and I could practically hear her trying to formulate a response.

"Alright, darling," she said finally, her voice soft. "I just want what's best for you, you know that. But if you feel like this mission is the right thing to do, then... then I support you."

I exhaled, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone. "Thanks, Mom. I’ll keep you updated."

As I hung up, I felt a strange mix of emotions—relief, guilt, and a small, growing excitement. The idea of Aramora lingered in my mind, the possibility of escape, of adventure, of purpose, just within reach.

For the first time in a long while, I felt like I was on the cusp of something bigger, something that could change me in ways I hadn’t yet imagined.

And maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what I needed.