Carina POV

That awakening was definitely painful. I don't know how, but I managed to get back to sleep at some point. The tears from your reaction had probably lulled me to sleep, exhausted. You must not have heard me crying, I know that you would never have abandoned me like that, without a gesture, a caress, even though I didn't deserve it, I didn't deserve anything.

I must admit, I never thought I would find myself on this side, on the side of someone who has consciously hurt their loved one. And now it is clear to me what I have always thought: things are not always black and white, the world is not divided into good and bad. Or at least I hope so, because if it wasn't, I would have become one of the bad guys

I get up and all I can think about while making coffee is that I would like to call in sick. It's not like me, I've always loved my job... come on, I bring children into the world, living proof that there's good on this earth! But now I can't think about this magic, or rather this magic doesn't take my mind off the fact that I'll see her again. I'll probably arrive at the hospital and, as soon as I'll have convinced myself that I can face the day, I'll find her in front of me and all my wonderful house of cards of self conviction that I've managed to build with care will collapse miserably on itself. I hold the phone in my hands, unlocking and locking it again and again, until I hear the alarm clock, the umpteenth one, reminding me that it's really time to go. I pluck up courage and after preparing a good cup of coffee to take with me, I leave, crossing my fingers, hoping to return home without seeing her.

I don't have time to get out of the car when I arrive at the hospital and I hear my mobile phone ringing. I get a call from the ward so I answer it as I hurry to get in. I pass through the emergency room, as in the meantime I am told that a pregnant woman has arrived in the emergency room, for which my consultation is required. I catch a glimpse of a fire brigade ambulance in the emergency car park. I always pay attention to it now, but I don't have enough time to stop and look at the number of the fire station, not this time. I leave my bag and coat to the nurse at the reception desk and ask her to tell me which room I need to go to. I hurriedly grab a paper gown and finish putting on my gloves just before I turn the corner to enter the room and... okay, God, fate or whatever you want to call it, Karma maybe? Well whatever it is it's either mad at me or really has a twisted sense of humour.

Maya POV

As Miller and I bring in the stretcher with the young patient, I begin to give the doctors the most important information, as per protocol.

"Female, 30, victim of domestic accident, exposed to smoke fumes, thirty-eighth week pregnant..."

"I think I'm going to have to ask you to... repeat," I'm answered by a voice I hear coming from the sliding door that opens to let her in. Hey you up there? Are you serious?

I try not to get upset and just focus on the patient and start again to report what happened.

"We took her out of her flat when it was already burning down, I think she was exposed to the smoke for a long time" I add, as I hear the door open again and I just think that I want to get out of that room as soon as possible.

"What have we got?" asks a voice, or rather, your voice. I don't turn around, lest you notice that I've hurt myself. I see you turn your attention immediately to the patient. You are so dedicated to your work and it is nice for once to see you in action.

"Okay thanks, you can go now, I want everyone out," Dr. Robbins replies hurriedly and I can't help but think she's kind of enjoying it under her mask at the idea of being able to kick me out of the room like this. I turn and wave Miller out, going with him, but first I see you turn to me and I meet your eyes for a second. I see how they scan me, as if you're trying to check me over from head to toe, give me a quick check-up with just your eyes. A small twitch of your eyebrow already tells me that you've caught the wound on my face. You turn back to focus on your patient and I finally feel free from that sort of interrogation on my state of health so well conducted by your eyes. I stop on the doorstep to watch you, to observe how you work, perfectly in symbiosis with her. A nod and you already know how to help. An understanding like this is not only created at work. I know because, as much as I love Andy, we don't have that kind of chemistry.

'Come on Miller, let's get back to the station,' I say to my giant good colleague, before patting him on the shoulder. A small cloud of soot rises from his shoulder at that touch.

'I'd say we definitely need a shower,' I say laughing, but that laugh is nothing more than a clumsy attempt to distract me. I keep thinking about your chemistry and in an instant I'm back there, on that road, my breath broken, being crushed, face against the asphalt, by the knowledge that I'll never be her and maybe that's not entirely irrelevant anymore