Chapter 7 The Tension

The air thickened, the hall growing smaller with every second that ticked as silence engulfed us. The entire hall was so quiet that you could hear the sound of a pin drop. All eyes were shifting between me and the supposed senior surgeon, waiting for answers. And he remained there, listening to my heart pounding with anxiety, his dark, piercing eyes scanning me as if I were a manuscript that he did not want to drop. I swallowed hard and dry every now and then, wishing, hoping, and praying to the heavens that he would not reveal that I was the one who caused that wound on his forehead. Or worse, reveal what kind of an immoral person I was. I mean, you could never be too sure with people nowadays. “I took it upon myself to go through all your profiles,” he said, his voice deep and steady. It was the kind of voice that didn’t just ask for silence—it commanded it. His presence was like a storm cloud, dark and heavy, filling every inch of the room. Every inch of me. Even at this scary moment, I could still feel my hairs rising. Acknowledging his presence. Appreciating his presence. So, he checked all of us out? And I happened to be the most interesting student he had? Then again, of course. I made a very good impression with my interesting self! Screw me! I was starting to think I could relax when he said this, his explanation taking a turn from what I was fearing, but the hairs on my arms stood on alert as his eyes bore into mine. I forgot to breathe, and all I could do as he talked was just stare back. Our eyes remained locked, unblinking, as if there was some spark holding us. “I have heard good things about you, Miss Monroe,” he continued, and I swear my entire body locked up. “Your teachers and the hospitals where you did your attachments spoke highly of you. You are such an interesting, dedicated, and zealous upcoming surgeon. I am honored to have the privilege to work with you.” I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. Knots formed in my belly so tight that I felt something drop. I could feel the weight of dozens of eyes drilling holes in my face. Some acknowledged that I really was all that, and perhaps much more, but others deemed it wrong for a nobody like me to receive all that praise from such a high-profile person. Those that burned with jealousy and disapproval, like Marylyn. Even her breathing was going out of control. I threw a glance at her, almost mocking her with a smug look after seeing how stiff she was beside her cheating partner. Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, her red lips parted slightly like she wanted to say something, but the words got stuck behind her throat. Her nails, painted blood red just like her plump lips, dug into her palm as she glared daggers at me. Vincent, on the other hand, held the same amount of wrath for me, only that he was not so obvious like his whore. But who was he kidding? Me? Oh, please! I bet his cock was all veined and red with wrath, wanting to slap me in the gut for stealing the spotlight from him. I mean, wasn’t Mr. Aldrich his father? He should have been praising his son, not me! “Hey, Dad. I have been great too. She has got nothing on me.” Vincent decided to make his own show, catching the attention of everyone. The only good thing he managed to do with his pitiful whining right there was to shift the attention of everyone from me to him. Gosh! I was beginning to really sweat. I only felt dizzy trying to figure out how the next six months were going to be in this kind of an environment. “My name is Senior Surgeon Dr. Aldrich De’Luka. Please have a seat, all of you.” We all moved back to our seats as he continued, “I will be as brief as I always am.” He paused and swept his gaze over the hall again slowly, calculating, studying, as if he wanted to connect with our inner selves. Again. Did he just ignore his son once again? He had not responded to him. He had just gone on with his business as if his son was but a shadow he could not see. And Vincent? The poor idiot just stood there with disbelief and shame smeared on his ugly face. He seemed unaware of what was going on. In as much as I now hated that manwhore, I was itching to know why his very own father would dismiss him like he was just an annoying fly buzzing unnecessarily in the background. Like, that was ruthless! Dr. Aldrich, again, without paying attention to his son, cleared his throat and spoke again. “Again, my name is Dr. Aldrich De’Luka. I am a senior surgeon with 30 years of experience in the medical field. Today, I stand before you not just as a doctor but as someone who was once in your position—eager to learn, nervous about the future, and determined to prove myself.” He paused, letting that interesting bit of intro sink into our system. 30 years of experience, huh! I would have loved to have a long talk with him and ask how the journey had been. Was the road all smooth for him? If not, how did he handle everything? Or was it a rollercoaster like mine? And if so, how did he handle everything? He continued. “Those are years of serious study and practice. I hold multiple degrees, including a Doctor of Medicine (MD), a master’s in surgery, and a specialization in cardiothoracic surgery. I have also undergone extensive training in trauma and emergency surgeries. My journey has taken me to some of the best hospitals, where I have performed complex operations, including open-heart surgeries, brain surgeries, and life-saving transplants.” He paused again, and I swallowed hard as I admired his journey. I could only envision my future self in him. I wanted to have that kind of testimony in some years to come. At that particular moment, I could only look at him as the person I aspired to be like. My role model.