Without her white lab coat and her usual proud, arrogant posture, she didn't look like an elite surgeon at all. She seemed unhinged, looking like a furious wife ready to kill the husband who had just tried to escape their crushing debts through suicide, leaving her and her children behind to the mercy of a merciless world.
"Who is she?" someone whispered from the crowd of spectators by the door.
"No idea... maybe an angry mistress?"
"Or a hidden wife?" another voice guessed.
"A wife?" a man echoed, sounding shocked by the possibility.
"Why not? He's old enough to have one," a woman muttered back. "It's common for celebrities to hide their families from the public eye... you know, for protection."
"But..."
The emergency room, well it was still smelling he same, looking the same and killing the same. And she couldn't bear any of that panic, that noise, that face,so she was just standing there frozen like a statue, at the foot of the gurney, staring at a man who was maybe her closest stranger.
They were now cutting through his sweater, that expensive, charcoal cashmere hand crochet, that she once saw him wearing in television series in which he was giving tour to his penthouse apartment. She knew it, she recognized it and even if she failed to accept that it was him, that sweater couldn't be a coincidence. Now a resident was casually slicing it open, peeling it back to expose his chest. Across the bed, someone was preparing to insert a plastic tube down his throat at the slightest command.
This is wrong. Its all entirely, impossibly wrong. She stumbled back while shaking her head in no. It wasn't just a thought it was a physical sickness twisting her guts making her feel nauseatic.
You don't get to be on that table.Not you. Anyone but you.
Before the rational, arrogant part of her brain could stop her, she was moving. She stepped forward in a blind trance and simply drove her shoulder into Dr. Choi. She hit him with a desperate, frantic force that sent him stumbling backward.
"What the...!" Dr. Choi gasped, completely caught off guard by the sudden attack.
He crashed into a metal tray of surgical instruments. It hit the floor with a deafening clatter, taking everyone in the room by surprise.
"Dr. Maeng?" Choi called out, his eyes wide.
She didn't hear him. She climbed right onto the bed, her knees digging into the bloody mattress next to his hips. Without her white lab coat and her usual proud, icy posture, she didn't look like an elite surgeon at all. She seemed unhinged., looking like a furious wife ready to kill the husband who had just tried to escape their crushing debts through suicide, leaving her and her children behind to the mercy of a merciless world.
"Who is she?" someone whispered from the crowd of spectators by the door.
"No idea... maybe an angry mistress?"
"Or a hidden wife?" another voice guessed.
"A wife?" a man echoed, sounding shocked by the possibility.
"Why not? He's old enough to have one," a woman muttered back. "It's common for celebrities to hide their families from the public eye... you know, for protection."
"But..." another started to say something but it wasn't audible to her anymore.
She could hear the words floating around her, but she couldn't understand them. They were just useless noise. The only thing she understood right now was the broken man lying right in front of her. She didn't care about anything else.
"Whoever she is... what is she doing to him? Why is no one stopping her?!"
Before anyone could answer, the crowd was silenced by what happened next.
Se-na locked her fingers together, hovered her hands over his bare sternum, and threw her entire body weight down with full force.
"She is a senior doctor in this hospital," a spectator nurse answered to the group.
The impact had shuddered up her arms.
One. Two. Three.
"Wake up," she said in a dry voice as if waking up a sleeping man.
Four. Five. Six.
Wake up…
Seven. Eight. Nine.
Wake up…
Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
Wake up
She was pushing harder every time, while saying wake up every time she threw her entire upper body into it. Her disheveled hair now totally open were falling into her eyes and were sticking to her sweat sleeked face. if this was usual routine Se-na would have thrown a tantrum and kicked everyone out for these little drops of sweat like earlier. But here she was.
But now she was feeling dumb. The man who could debate for hours for any sides, who never backed down, until he won was slacking. He was slipping through her fingers like water, heavy and hollow.
The high pitched alarm from the monitor was even more sickening to her ears. The panic was clawing its way up her throat, twisting into a hot, blinding rage.
Dr. Maeng…we have the defibrillator ready ," dr. choi started again .
She stopped pushing and instead of getting down she grabbed his bare shoulders, her fingers digging into his cold skin, and hauled his upper body off the mattress. He was literally a dead weight and as she pulled him to herself his head lolled back uselessly, his jaw falling open.
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