Four years later…

Yoona’s POV

            “I have a list of rules,” I put my hands together.

            The new surgical interns had arrived, and the chief asked me to speak to some of the interns about the hospital.  The hospital had been put on the map, and my research, along with Dr. Ok, Dr. Kwon, and Dr. Kang’s research, has been renovating the surgical world for the past few years. 

            The interns looked at me as if I was a ghost, and I even caught one of them snap a picture of me through his cellphone.  I rolled my eyes and grabbed the iPhone in his hand and stuffed it in my pocket.

            “Rule number one:  no cellphones.  The way we contact you?  Through the pagers issued to you during the orientation.  If I find out any of you had posted any personal pictures on any website that stains the names of the patients, nurses, doctors, and the hospital, then you are out of my hospital,” I informed them.

            I saw a male intern check out a passing nurse, and I rolled my eyes yet again.

            “That brings me to rule two:  respect all the nurses, and that means not being a ert.  If you try to belittle, disrespect, or put down a nurse, I will find out, and I will make your life hell.  You may think that you know more than the nurses, but that’s not true.  Not as interns.”

            “Are there any more rules?” a female brunette intern questioned.

            “Yes.  Don’t kill anyone—especially under my watch,” I warned.

~~~~~~

            “I need to get into the pericardium,” I stated, “Once you take the clamp, you need to find the access point and cover it immediately.  You must note that because the patient is a child, the procedure is entirely different.  A child means a smaller body, and a smaller body means a higher need for precision.  You screw this one up, and the child is going to go into cardiac arrest.  Not only will you have a dead child but you’ll have the media breathing down your neck for failing to save a child’s life and a pair of parents who want to murder you themselves.”

            I was explaining a heart procedure on a child to a bunch of residents, and they were watching carefully.  I shined the light onto the open chest and continued to work on the child.  I had been the head of pediatric surgery for three years, and for those three years, the pediatric wing at Los Angeles Medical Center had been ranked number one.  The chief, Dr. Yunho Jung, was relieved because of the ranking, and Dr. Son quickly resigned after it was announced that I was to take her position.  I never spoke to her about what I saw between her and my then husband, and I had no intention to discuss anything about Seunghyun.

            Things had changed in the past four years.  Seunghyun had quit before I returned back to Los Angeles from Seoul.  I had no idea where he was working now, and I never heard from him ever since.  Jessica had just finished her cardiothoracic fellowship, and she was now an attending cardiothoracic surgeon.  In a few years, she would probably be promoted as the head of cardiothoracic surgery because of the lack of power in the department since Seunghyun left much to her fear.  She preferred worrying about herself in contrast to having to worry about a whole hospital wing.  She had just gotten married to Jiyong, and I was truly happen for them.  Seohyun had taken a fellowship in pediatric surgery, and I became her personal mentor.  She was now an attending working under me, and I loved having her by my side.  She was probably one of the best surgeons on the pediatric floor, and the children loved her.  Yuri was an attending trauma surgeon working under her now fiancé, Young Bae.  Young Bae, Seungri, Daesung, and Jiyong stayed in Los Angeles Medical Center, and I was surprised.  I thought with the divorce would come a split in friends, but they stayed with me in the hospital.  Speaking of Seungri and Daesung, those two were now tied down to Seohyun and Sooyoung.  The two couples got engaged two years ago, and they had been happily married ever since.

            Today was a significant day.  It was the four-year anniversary of my day of tragedy, and today was also the ceremony for this year’s Berit awards.  I had been nominated yet again, and it was in the bets that I was to win again.  I had done so much in the last four years.  I had just been published for creating a method for treating cardiac tamponade in children, and it had created a 35% higher chance of success than traditional methods.  They called it the Im method, and I was published on the American Journal of Medicine.

            “You’re great, Dr. Im,” one of the residents stated in awe, “I want to be like you one day.”

            They didn’t want to be like me, but they didn’t know it.  They were caught up with the glamor that it looked like I had.  I didn’t know why, but I felt even more spiteful after what had happened to me years ago.  That day had ruined me, and the scar was only evident to me.  I was not going to lie to myself.  I did miss those days when I was still married to Seunghyun.  The with him was fantastic, the conversations were full of meaning, and I had someone to sleep beside at night, but I had to realize that I was never going to get back with him.  Even if we had a lot of similarities, our differences were more evident.

            I gave a small smile and continued to lecture on about the procedure.

~~~

            I only worked eight hours today because of the Berit awards.  They were being held in Los Angeles today, and every single night the Berit awards took place, I remembered the first one I attended.  I was still Seunghyun’s wife, and we both won awards.  Ever since the divorce, it was as if he disappeared on the face of the earth.  He didn’t participate in surgery on a competitive level anymore.  He was not publishing anything hence the lack of nominations for any awards.  I was surprised because I knew he was a brilliant man.  My grandfather had taught him personally, and I was a little disappointed that he didn’t use my grandfather’s teachings to his advantage.

            I had moved out from the house my grandfather gave Seunghyun and me.  For months, Seunghyun and I communicated through our lawyers after our divorce.  He claimed he didn’t want anything, and he just wanted all ties cut.  That meant the house and cars were mine.  Of course, I sold the cars, but I couldn’t bring myself to sell the house.  My grandfather loved that house, and it was the only physical reminder I had of him.

            I entered my penthouse and shrugged my coat off.  I dropped it on the sofa for the maid to clean up when she started her shift tomorrow.  I trudged up the stairs slowly as I made my way to my bedroom to change into a formal dress.  Why did I even get a penthouse?  It was too big for me.  It was advertised as the ultimate bachelor or bachelorette pad.  It had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a spacious kitchen, a fully equipped bar, a balcony overlooking Los Angeles’ nightlife, and access to a gym, spa, and pool.  I just wanted something to keep my mind away from my failed marriage.  I got the penthouse because it was the complete opposite of the home my grandfather bought for Seunghyun and me.  I wanted a change, but it didn’t help much.

            I slipped out of my scrubs and tossed it into the laundry basket across my bedroom.  I let my hair down and made my way to the shower to clean up.  As soon as the hot water hit my skin, I closed my eyes.  I was going to be at peace even if it was for only fifteen minutes.

~~~

            I had fixed my own hair myself; my long hair was pinned up in a low bun.  A few wavy strands fell to the side, and I sprayed a little hairspray.  I frowned at my reflection as I took a deep shade of red and pressed it against my lips.  After applying the lipstick, I continued to stare at myself through the mirror.

            I had a Burberry dress on.  It was black, sleek, and somewhat revealing.  It bared my back, and the dress went down to my feet.  I didn’t even have to buy the dress.  Burberry found out that I was nominated for the Berit award and wanted me to wear their brand.  I was more than happy to wear it because it was mutually beneficial.  I didn’t have to pay for it.  I also didn’t have to go out and shop for it myself, and they were getting publicity because I was wearing it to a prestigious award ceremony.

            My neck and wrists were draped in Tiffany & Co. accessories, and the bling was too flamboyant than to what I was used to.  I shrugged the thought away and opened the drawer to my vanity to pick out a ring.  My hand froze when I noticed my old wedding ring in there.  I didn’t know why, but I never had the heart to throw it away.  I always felt that if I threw it away or sold it, I would have regretted it.  I slowly closed the drawer.  I didn’t need to wear a ring tonight.

_______________________

            “Thank you so much,” I gave a little smile.

            I looked through the crowd as my heartbeat slowed.  I had finished most of my goals.  I was now a renowned surgeon.  I traveled around the world to work on some of the most rare pediatric and fetal cases I had ever laid my eyes on.  I gained the respect from the public and other surgeons, including the ones who were more experienced and older than me.  I had continued my grandfather’s legacy, and I was known to be on his level.  I had saved the lives of hundred of children, and my new method could save thousands.

            “When people ask me what my key to success is, I always have to think about it,” I spoke into the microphone, “There is not one key.