Coffe

5:12 a.m.

My eyes opened before the alarm had a chance to ring.

For a few quiet seconds, I stared at the dark ceiling above me.

Silence.

The only moment of the day when no one needed anything from me.

It never lasted long.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Then again.

And again.

I didn’t have to check the screen to know what was waiting for me.

Lab results.

Messages from the hospital.

Patients.

Requests from my team.

My day always began long before sunrise.

Beside me, Marina was still asleep, curled around her pillow while the television silently played the end credits of a show she’d probably never finish.

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

I’d always admired that about her.

She could simply… stop.

Disconnect.

Rest.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done any of those things.

I reached for my phone.

Twelve emails.

Seven messages.

Three missed calls.

I took a slow breath.

Five minutes later, half of them had already been answered.

I slipped out of bed.

The cold hardwood floor woke me before the hot shower ever could.

In the bathroom mirror, the same woman looked back at me.

Hair neatly tied.

Minimal makeup.

Tailored blazer.

Everything exactly where it belonged.

People often told me I looked calm.

Confident.

Reliable.

What they never saw was how exhausting it was to look unshakable every single day.

I held my own gaze a little longer than usual.

Something felt different.

Or maybe it had been the same for months, and I was only now brave enough to notice.

The exhaustion wasn’t physical.

It settled somewhere deeper.

Somewhere sleep could never reach.

I looked away first.

Just like I always did.

The smell of fresh coffee filled the apartment by the time I walked into the kitchen.

Marina wandered in a minute later, her hair a mess, still wrapped in an oversized T-shirt.

She glanced at my phone before looking at me.

“You’re already working?”

I smiled.

“Technically…”

She laughed.

“You answered emails before brushing your teeth, didn’t you?”

My silence was answer enough.

“I knew it.”

I poured myself a cup of black coffee.

No sugar.

Exactly the way I liked it.

“What time did you finally go to bed?”

“I don’t know.”

She sighed.

“Lívia…”

I knew that tone.

The one she used whenever she tried convincing me that my life didn’t have to revolve around the hospital.

“I’m fine.”

She leaned against the counter.

“You always say that.”

Because it was easier than admitting I’d been waking up exhausted for weeks.

I grabbed my bag before the conversation could go any further.

“Have a good day.”

“Lívia.”

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob.

“You don’t have to prove every single day that you deserve to be where you are.”

I smiled.

But I didn’t answer.

Because deep down…

that was exactly what I was doing.

Saint Helena Hospital was already alive when I walked through the main entrance.

The scent of fresh coffee.

Quick footsteps echoing through the corridors.

Stretchers rolling past.

Heart monitors beeping somewhere in the distance.

For most people, hospitals smelled like fear.

To me…

they smelled like purpose.

“Good morning, Dr. Albuquerque.”

I greeted nurses, residents, and colleagues as I crossed the lobby toward the elevators.

Every face carried the same expectation.

A question.

A decision.

A solution.

I had grown used to being the answer.

As soon as I stepped onto the fifth floor, the director’s assistant stood.

“Dr. Helena is waiting for you.”

I frowned.

That wasn’t part of my schedule.

I knocked twice before entering.

Dr. Helena smiled warmly.

“Good morning, Lívia.”

“Good morning.”

She motioned toward the chair across from her desk.

As soon as I sat down, she folded her hands.

“I need to discuss an important change.”

Something tightened in my stomach.

She opened a folder.

“Starting next Monday, you won’t be leading Cardiology on your own anymore.”

My eyes lifted to hers.

“I’m sorry… what?”

“We’ve hired a new cardiovascular surgeon.”

She paused just long enough for the words to sink in.

“You’ll be sharing leadership of the department.”

Silence.

Years of proving myself.

Years of earning that position.

Years of sacrificing everything else.

And now…

someone would simply walk in and stand beside me.

“Who is he?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

A small smile appeared on Dr. Helena’s face.

“Noah Vasconcellos.”

I’d never heard the name before.

But for reasons I couldn’t explain…

I had the unsettling feeling that Noah Vasconcellos was about to change far more than the routine inside that hospital.