"Wow, Star, it's been a long time since I saw someone so disappointed to see me," a familiar voice said, light with humor but soft at the edges.
I froze for a second before opening the door wider. "Dr. Macy," I breathed.
She gave me a small smile. "Can I come in? I know I'm not who you were expecting, but may I?"
"Of course," I said quickly, stepping aside. "And I'm sorry, I wasn't disappointed to see you. I was just expecting someone else."
I ushered her toward the seating area by the window. The afternoon light spilled across the floor, catching the soft waves of her hair. I noticed she looked different out of the hospital. Her hair was down, longer than I had expected, and her clothes were nothing like what she wore under her coat.
Today she had on a blouse that dipped low enough to show a hint of skin, and her pants were fitted, hugging her legs. She looked almost like a different person.
"You look good, Star," she said as she sat down, crossing one leg neatly over the other. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, I did. Thanks for asking."
She nodded, her calm presence filling the room. "The labs we did recently came back fine. I think you're doing better now that you're here. But you still have to be careful, alright? Try not to stress yourself. Watch your blood pressure. No heavy lifting or physical strain. Any kind of trauma right now could be dangerous for both you and the baby. Understand?"
"Thank you, Dr. Macy. I'll keep that in mind," I said, folding my hands in my lap. "But I'm not planning to stay here forever. It's already been a week. I'll have to go home soon."
She hesitated before replying. Her fingers fidgeted with the strap of her bag, her gaze flicking toward the floor, then back to me.
"Do you have to?" she asked finally, her voice quiet.
I blinked at her, taken aback. "Of course I have to. I have a husband and a family, and they need me."
"Right," she said slowly, nodding as if to herself. "Right."
For a moment, the silence between us felt heavy. Dr. Macy leaned forward slightly, her tone careful now, like she was stepping onto thin ice.
"Star," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can I ask you something personal?"
"Of course," I said, though my stomach tightened.
She paused again, studying my face. "Does your husband ever get physical with you?"
The words hung in the air. She spoke them gently, but they hit hard all the same.
"You can be honest with me," she said. "I promise I won't judge."
"He doesn't," I said quickly, my voice rising. "He wouldn't hit me." I hesitated, my throat tightening. "At least not intentionally. That time he was just upset, that's all. It was in the heat of the moment. I fell down, that's why I got hurt. It's not like he pushed me to the ground."
"But he swerved at you," she said quietly, finishing the sentence for me.
I felt my cheeks heat up. "Dr. Macy, you don't know the intricacies of my marriage, so please don't speak on them."
"You're right," she said softly. "It's true that I don't know every single detail about your marriage. I also know you hate when I speak about your family. Maybe I should leave, since I can tell you're doing fine."
"You don't have to leave," I said quickly. "We can talk about other things. I'd just prefer we never talk about this topic again."
"No, it's best I go," she said gently. "Because I can't help myself, and I don't want you hating me."
She stood and reached for her bag. I watched, confused, as she walked halfway to the door. Then she paused, exhaled, and turned back, sinking slowly into the chair again.
"You're enough," she said.
I frowned, confused. "What?"
"You're enough, Star," she repeated, her voice firm this time.
Before I could respond, she continued.
"I know you think I'm being nosy, but I can't help myself sometimes. You see, Star, my ex-husband was abusive. We got married early. I was still studying medicine back then, trying to graduate and apply for medical school. He was studying engineering. We both had ambition, and I loved him."
Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly in her lap.
"But it wasn't all roses," she went on. "It started with the small things. The jabs. Calling me stupid. Telling me I wasn't smart enough to be a doctor. Then it was my body—how I'd let myself go since starting medical school. I studied hard while still trying to please him, but nothing I did was ever good enough. Soon, I started to believe him."
I watched her quietly, my heart tightening with every word.
"Even when I got my residency at one of the top hospitals, I still felt stupid. I felt ugly. I felt like I wasn't enough. Like none of it mattered—being a doctor, achieving what I worked for. He made me think I didn't deserve him, that he was everything I needed, that I couldn't live without him. And I believed him. I believed him even when things turned physical. Even when I had to hide bruises from my colleagues, my professors, and my patients."
Her eyes glistened now, her voice breaking.
"I gave that man the best years of my youth. And even when it got worse, I still didn't consider leaving. Back then, I used to wish someone—anyone—would grab me by the shoulders and tell me these words: 'Macy, you're enough.'"
"I had to learn it the hard and painful way, but the best decision I ever made was leaving that marriage and the abuse I suffered."
She drew a deep breath.
"So I'm sorry if you felt like I was being nosy, Star. But the truth is, I see myself in you. The way you avoid eye contact because you think everyone is judging you. The way you measure every word because you're afraid it will be taken the wrong way. The bruises on your hands. The way you keep making excuses for him."
Her voice grew softer but sharper too, cutting right through me.
"Star, you're hurting yourself. And you're hurting your baby. You won't find peace until you finally learn that you're enough."
"No," I said.
She blinked, confused. "What?"
"No, you're wrong." My voice cracked, but I didn't stop. "I'm really sorry about what you went through, Dr. Macy. I think you're incredible for surviving it, and for everything you do. But you're wrong about me and Adrian."
"Star—"
"Dr. Macy," I interrupted quietly, "do you have parents?"
"Yeah, but how does that matter—"
"When you left your husband, did they help you? Did they comfort you?"
"I mean, yes—"
"Then you and I are really different," I said, my voice trembling. I already lost Lena. I couldn't lose both of them. "How can you tell me to leave my family over petty arguments? Adrian loves me. If he didn't love me, he wouldn't have married me. You have no idea about us."
"Star, I never said anything about leaving him."
"You might as well have been screaming it through a microphone."
"This was a bad idea," I muttered, mostly to myself.
"Star? Star?" she called, concern creeping into her tone.
"I shouldn't have come here. God, I'm so stupid. How could I run away from home? The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "I need to go. I need to go back home."
I refused to believe Dr. Macy and I were the same. Adrian could be kind. He was just going through a hard time. That had to be why he slept with Lena. Once he saw our baby, he'd love her, and he'd choose me.
"Dr. Macy, I think it's best you leave now," I said quietly.
"Star—" she pleaded.
"It's best you leave," I repeated, standing up. "Because I'm packing my things and calling a taxi to take me home."
"Star, don't do anything irrational because of what I said."
"This isn't because of you, Dr. Macy," I said, my voice shaking. "But I'd really appreciate it if we kept our relationship professional. I don't want you intruding in my life. I don't want you analyzing me or my marriage. I just— I just want a simple life. So please, please, please leave me alone."
Her hands lifted toward me but stopped halfway. "I'm sorry, Star. Sometimes the truth is a hard pill to swallow. But I don't judge you, because I've been there before."
"Just leave," I said finally.
"Please, I'm begging you don't cut me out of your life because of this. If you have any problems with the baby, call me." She murmured before I shut the door in her face.
The click of the latch echoed through the room.
She was wrong.
Of course, she was wrong.
She had to be.