WHEN LOVE ARRIVES [KEANU REEVES]

eight ⋆ pit of sadness

❝ultimately the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or in friendship, is conversation.❞
─oscar wilde

The feeling of failure was one Skeeter wanted to avoid at all costs.

As a child, she didn't receive that much attention from her parents. It wasn't because her mother and father hated her; they simply just had their hands full with five kids running around and their pending divorce. However, it was compensated through her academic achievements and her present profession. Her mom and dad would proudly tell everyone they met that their little Skeeter was one of the best surgeons in Boston.

When Skeeter failed, whether it was on an exam in school or losing a patient on the job, she felt like she had to prove herself to her peers all over again. That was why she went back to the on-call room and re-read her notes on traumas concerning the legs and abdomen just to make sure that she wouldn't make the same mistake again. On top of that, she also wanted to avoid the pity stares from the other hospital staff.

The next to come with failure was the feeling of embarrassment. Skeeter hated embarrassing herself to the point that she would become a whole other person when faced with patients and their significant others, co-doctors, and especially with the interns. She was Doctor Evans to them—a no non-sense trauma surgeon who would stop at nothing to see you walk away from the hospital alive and well. Respect and approval from her peers were very important to her.

When basking in her pit of sadness and hatred towards herself, Skeeter preferred to be alone. Presently, her mind was going a million miles per minute as she recounted the events of the day in the middle of the quiet bar. Her cheek touch the cold glass as she slumped in her stool.

"Skeeter?" A husky voice said, breaking her train of thought. "It's funny bumping into you here."

Only moving her eyes to meet his, she greeted back in a deflated tone. "Oh. Hi, Keanu."

He caught this and frowned. When he had first read her torn-up diary page, Keanu imagined a person in their late fifties, unemployed, and probably in their fourth divorce. When he met Skeeter to retrieve his luggage, she was blushing with embarrassment but still managed to keep a genuine smile on her face──no matter how awkward the situation was.

The Skeeter he was seeing slumped her shoulders as if she was carrying the whole world. He didn't know what to say or do. So, he decided to settle himself on the stool beside her and just drink his damn beer. Luckily, it only took a little of three minutes until the silence between them was broken.

"Sorry about the way I acted earlier." Skeeter said after she gulped down her drink, "It wasn't my. . .best day. So yeah, sorry."

"It's okay."

Scrunching her nose, she continued. "I──uh──lost a patient before you came in."

"Sorry about that. I know you might have more important patients to attend to."