The Girl Who Always Wins (Soulless 13)

“I agree. We’ve been unprofessional as it is, to our coworkers and to our patients. That’s why I’ve decided to step down.”

“What…?”

After a quiet sigh, he turned his gaze to me. “I hired a new physician to join the team to replace you.”

“Replace me?”

“Because you’re taking my job.”

It was a job I’d wanted so much, and now it was totally meaningless.

“My decision has nothing to do with our relationship. You’re the best person for the job. I know you’ll fight for our patients, stand up when something doesn’t feel right, and you’ll be a director that your colleagues respect and admire.”

Stunned into silence, I just stood there.

I couldn’t believe this was really happening.

I would never see Atlas again. “What…what will you do?”

“Resume my full-time status at the lab. Dr. Hamilton intends to have me replace him in the next decade, so that’s where I should focus my time.”

He’d come into my life unexpectedly—and now he’d left just as abruptly.

“I can’t work with you either, Daisy. I harbor no ill feelings toward you. I just… I’ll never be able to really focus, not in months or years, never. My professionalism and duty to my patients are just not enough to combat this.”

I didn’t know what else to say.

Not a single thought came into my mind.

There was only pain…deep pain.

Grief.

I dropped my gaze because I couldn’t look at him anymore.

Couldn’t look at him look at me.

I turned around and walked out of his office, my heels tapping against the hardwood floor. Tears stained my cheeks, but as if they weren’t there, I headed to my office and took a seat at my desk.

When I looked out the glass doors, I saw everyone in the office staring at me.

Like they knew exactly what had happened.

11

Atlas

There was a stack of active applicants on file, so it was easy to find a qualified physician who wanted the job. The position might not have the most competitive pay, but it had a level of prestige you couldn’t find elsewhere. Our team was dedicated to helping people, so we were all salary-based, making the same regardless of our patients or our hours.

Once there was someone new in the office, it was time to take my leave.

Daisy and I hadn’t spoken since that final conversation last week.

We never interacted with each other.

The brief times I saw her, she looked as if she’d been hit by a train.

She looked exactly as I looked.

I was heartbroken, but I’d spent so much of the last couple years of my life being heartbroken that I handled it better. I was used to losing people. I was used to disappointment. A walk in the park, really.

I called a staff meeting, gathered everyone in the conference room, and made it official. “Dr. Huntington has been a great addition to the office. The workload has been lighter because we’ve had fewer patients, but that’s about to change.” I stood at the head of the table, leaning against the wall behind me.

Daisy sat there, her eyes down, her skin pale as milk. She always looked like that during our interactions, like her mind wasn’t in the room. She was elsewhere, in a land of quiet sorrow.

“Because I’ll be leaving the clinic. This is my last week.”

Almost everyone looked surprised—except a few people.

“I’ve decided to resume my full-time status with Hamilton Pharma. I’ve selected Dr. Hamilton to fill my position as the new director. I have no doubt that she’ll perform the job well, that she’ll run this clinic flawlessly.” I brought my hands together and started to clap. “Congratulations, Dr. Hamilton.”

Everyone clapped.

She looked up at the group, forcing a strained smile that didn’t match her heartbroken eyes at all. Even in front of her colleagues, she couldn’t put up a front. Two weeks after our breakup, she still couldn’t pretend to be okay. That was when I knew this was the right decision.

We couldn’t be in the same room ever again.

Dr. Hamilton walked into my lab and examined my work before he grabbed the data sheet attached to the clipboard. He flipped through it before he grabbed the vial of interest then examined it, holding it up to the light. Wordlessly, he put it down then took a seat, opening his notebook and making notes.

Whenever Dr. Hamilton was focused, he rarely said a word. Our research was progressing slowly but strongly, and since we had a lot on the line, he was even more intense. He didn’t want a mistake. He didn’t want a slipup.

Neither did I.

He finished what he was doing then closed the notebook. “We’ll start at the hospital at seven.”

“Alright.” The second stage of the trials was about to commence. We would have to do it a couple times before we could submit our work for review. There would be a lot of resistance because the medical industry didn’t necessarily want advancements, especially when they weren’t cheap. That was our biggest hurdle, lobbyists who cared about their bottom line more than the lives of people.