Seven Years of Unrequited Love

The scent of disinfectant hung like an invisible film, tightly enveloping every corner of City First Hospital. I curled up in the corner of the nurse station by the window, my pen hovering over the letter paper again and again before finally moving. The two characters "Cameron Lopez" were traced over repeatedly, the ink layered thick like the unsaid feelings I've carried for seven years—this was my hundredth letter to him. The previous ninety-nine confessions, every single one, vanished into silence. But I always clung to a shred of hope, thinking that if I held on just a little longer, he would finally notice. "Dr. Clark, Dr. Lopez is calling you to his office. He said there's a surgical plan he needs you to review." The young nurse passed by holding an IV bottle, her voice soft, yet it made my fingertips go instantly pale. I hurriedly folded the letter twice and stuffed it into the inner pocket of my white coat. Cameron Lopez is the youngest chief physician at City First Hospital, only thirty-four this year, always keeping his hair short and neat. His gold-rimmed glasses sit on a high, straight nose; when he doesn't smile, he looks like ice. But I've seen him stand for eight hours straight at the operating table, saving a woman with massive bleeding during childbirth. His legs were trembling when he finally stepped down, yet he still smiled as he comforted the anxious family members. I've also seen him help a nurse who had fallen pick up scattered instruments, gently saying, "Be careful." Someone like that—how could they not make your heart race? The chief's office was at the end of the corridor, the door slightly ajar, and a woman's voice leaked out, sweet and teasing. I recognized it—it was Sabrina Marshall from the Cardiology Department. She'd transferred just six months ago, yet she always appeared in the department as Cameron Lopez's "intimate confidante." "Cameron, when are you going to make our relationship public to the department?" My feet felt nailed to the floor as I impulsively pushed the door open. The scene inside the office made my blood freeze instantly. Sabrina was leaning against the desk, her hands tangled in Cameron's neck, while he leaned in slightly, one arm around her waist, his head bowed in a focused kiss. Hearing the door, Cameron suddenly looked up sharply. "Ingrid, don't you know you're supposed to knock before entering my office?" Sabrina hurriedly pushed him away, smoothing the crumpled collar of her white coat, but deliberately shifted closer to Cameron, shooting me a provocative glare. Cameron's gaze swept over the pocket I was clutching tightly, as if he knew exactly what was inside: "Coming to hand me another love letter again?" "Ingrid, it's been seven years. You keep doing the same thing over and over. Don't you think you're boring?" He took two steps forward, looking down at me from above. The scorn in his voice stabbed into my heart like a needle: "Do you really think pestering me like this will move me?" "Unfortunately, I have no interest in you." Those words shattered the last shred of my dignity. The grievances and unwillingness I'd bottled up for seven years instantly welled up in my eyes. I suddenly pulled the letter paper from my pocket, my fingers trembling with the effort as I tore it to shreds, scraps falling onto his polished leather shoes before drifting softly to the floor. "Cameron," I forced back my tears, my voice trembling yet steadfast, "From now on, I won't trouble you anymore." I turned and hurried out of the office, passing down the corridor lined with honorary banners, all the way out of the inpatient building. Outside, it had started to rain lightly without my noticing; the cold raindrops hit my face, mingling with my tears as they slid down, blurring the line between rain and tears. It wasn't until then that I truly understood: seven years of persistence, ninety-nine confessions, were just a one-woman show.