dical Center.
Ward.
Adam finished the treatnt and was ready to bolt.
"Alright," Dr. Montgory nodded imdiately.
Right now, she was holding an ice pack to her wound, her posture totally unladylike. Earlier, she had no choice. But now that the treatnt was done and her professional deanor had faded, the embarrassnt kicked in.
"Adam, lock the door," Dr. Montgory called out.
"Uh…" Adam stopped in his tracks, giving a wry smile. "I don't have the key."
The key was with the nurse.
"Well, then how about you stick around for a bit and keep an eye on the door for ?" Dr. Montgory requested.
"Fine," Adam nodded helplessly.
Might as well see it through—go big or go ho, right? He'd already done this much; no point half-assing it now. Otherwise, it'd be a total waste.
The ward fell quiet for a mont.
After the treatnt and with the ice pack helping, Dr. Montgory finally felt so relief. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Adam, after locking the door, sat by the bed, avoiding direct eye contact. Following the "less said, less trouble" rule, he didn't feel like chatting either.
After a while…
"Adam, could you go grab Derek for ?" Dr. Montgory broke the silence.
"Sure," Adam agreed without hesitation, even though he didn't quite get why.
He wasn't keen on lingering here anyway. The longer he stayed, the higher the risk of people starting to gossip.
He stepped out, found Dr. Shepherd, and brought him back.
"I'm about to show you sothing, but you better not laugh or gloat," Dr. Montgory said as she pulled the curtain around her bed, speaking to her husband on the other side.
"Why would I gloat?" Dr. Shepherd replied, sounding a bit annoyed.
"Because I've got a wild kudzu rash," Dr. Montgory admitted.
"What?" Dr. Shepherd yanked the curtain open and leaned in to see. A smug grin spread across his face. "You really got a wild kudzu rash—and a pretty bad one too."
"So, are we even now?" Dr. Montgory teased, pouting playfully at his gloating. "Isn't this enough punishnt? Haven't I suffered enough karma?"
That's when it clicked for Adam. She was playing the pity card to win so sympathy.
But wait—since when did getting a wild kudzu rash equate to getting payback for cheating and earning forgiveness? Before Adam could piece that logic together, sothing even more baffling happened.
Dr. Shepherd laughed.
He straight-up laughed.
A genuine, hearty laugh—the kind that only cos from years of marriage.
And then Dr. Montgory grabbed the pillow behind her and playfully chucked it at her husband, feigning indignation.
"Hahaha!"
"Hahaha!"
The two of them burst into laughter, flirting and teasing like nothing had ever happened. It was all so… carefree and reconciled.
anwhile, Adam stood there, invisible, with a giant question mark over his head. It was like that classic voice echoed in his mind: "Hey kid, you got a lot of questions, huh?"
What just happened? How did they just laugh it off and make up like that? Adam didn't dare say a word or ask. He just quietly slipped away.
As long as the couple was happy, right?
---
Ergency Room
Bang!
The door was forcefully shoved open from the outside.
"Don't ever let see that filthy thing again!" a pretty paradic lady shouted, pushing a stretcher in with an attitude.
"What's going on?" Adam asked, curious.
"Who cares?!" she snapped, clearly pissed. She didn't even give Adam the courtesy of an explanation—just left the stretcher and patient there, slamd the door, and stord off.
"Whoa!"
"Who's that? Pissing her off like that!"
"That's too much—she shouldn't be giving Dr. Duncan that kind of attitude."
"I'll rember her face," the nurses chattered among themselves.
"Carol, can you grab this guy's chart for ?" Adam asked with a smile, turning to the patient. "So, what'd you do?"
This was the first ti his charm had failed on a pretty young lady.
Hmph. Won!
You've successfully piqued my interest!
…Okay, maybe that's what a normal guy would think. But Adam's a doctor. What really got his attention was what this patient did to make the pretty paradic that mad.
Because this wasn't just about her snubbing Adam. As a paradic, it's her job to quickly and accurately report the patient's condition to the doctor. Storming off without a word, cursing, and slamming the door? That's soone who's completely lost it.
"Nothing much, just asked about her preferences," the patient—a middle-aged guy with a receding hairline and half his face bloodied—replied calmly. He held a notebook and pen in his hands. "No ill intentions."
"Did she do that to you?" Adam asked, growing more curious.
"Nah," the man shook his head. "That was the guy at the newsstand."
"What'd you say?" Adam chuckled as he began examining him.
"So trash talk about his Middle Eastern roots," the man said casually. "He's got a short fuse."
"Any other injuries?" Adam asked.
"Feels like a cracked rib," the man pointed to his side.
"Newsstand guy again?" Adam moved to check it out.
"Nope, that was the gardener in the park. He's real sensitive about his haircut," the man said with a straight face.
"Let guess—you're purposely riling people up," Adam grinned. "You're not so burnt-out theoretical physicist looking for a new brain, are you?"
"Close," the man said, giving Adam a surprised look. "I'm a sociologist from NYU, specializing in violence studies. I'm working on a project: I ask people two questions to find their trigger points, then use that info to provoke them until they snap and attack ."
"Pfft," Adam couldn't help but laugh.
"What's so funny?" the sociologist asked, picking up his pen and notebook, ready to analyze Adam.
"I've got a couple of friends—well, two of them," Adam smirked. "One's a theoretical physicist, the other's a neurologist. To them, sociology isn't even a real science. If they heard what you just said—that their science is 'close' to yours—they'd probably lose it without you even trying to provoke them. Though, even at their angriest, they'd just give you a dirty look, not throw punches."
"Arrogant jerks!" the sociologist scoffed, clearly unimpressed.
You look down on ? Well, I look down on you too!
"Fair point," Adam nodded. "But your project's got a flaw. So people don't even need words—just a glance or a smirk can set them off. Others? You could poke and prod all day, and they still wouldn't snap. People are different. Too many variables."
"Oh?" The sociologist raised an eyebrow, giving Adam a look that scread, "You don't get it—wanna try ?" "Sounds like you think you're the type who wouldn't snap no matter how much I push. Mind if I ask you two questions?"
"Go for it," Adam shrugged nonchalantly.
Try it and see what happens.
He was pretty damn sure he wouldn't be the one regretting it. 😎 belamy20
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