— He’s back!
— Who’s back?
Kvitka Umansky paused in the middle of the surgical ward corridor, stepping aside to let a gurney with a patient pass by. Her mind was already mapping out the upcoming surgery.
— You haven’t heard yet?
— Heard what?
Kvitka shot an impatient glance at Marina—her best, and frankly only, friend, as well as a former classmate. Marina worked as an ENT specialist and, for some reason she deemed urgent, had rushed over from her department to the surgical ward in the middle of the busiest part of the day. She hadn’t even taken off her headlamp. Something extraordinary must have happened.
But Kvitka didn’t have time for extraordinary events. She was hurrying to a scheduled surgery, so she continued down the corridor. Marina, however, kept pace with her.
— Not what, but who. Chuhay! — Marina blurted out in a loud whisper, her impulsive nature getting the better of her. — No one’s told you yet? Am I really the first?
They stopped near the doors leading to the operating suite.
— Rodan’s here? — Kvitka’s voice cracked on the first stressed syllable. How long had it been since she’d heard her ex-husband’s name? Years had passed. Family and friends had stopped mentioning him to her long before Lyubomyr came into her life. Marina included. So why was Rodan showing up now, of all times? It had only been a month since she and Lyubomyr decided to take a break and live apart. And now this… — In town? How do you know?
— In town?! — Marina adjusted her headlamp, which nearly slipped down her nose. — In the hospital!
— Our hospital? As in… here? — Kvitka still couldn’t believe it. — To work, or… just stopping by?
And she had a surgery to get to… Well, fine. If he’s here, that doesn’t mean she has to see him. So what if he showed up? Does that mean everything has to grind to a halt? The work isn’t going to do itself.
— Chuhay is taking over as acting head of the surgical department! — Marina announced. — Vasylishyn has been out sick and retired a month ago. While the administration was figuring out who to appoint next, your Rodan showed up out of nowhere.
— He’s not my Rodan, — Kvitka muttered a phrase she hadn’t used in ages but once said often. — Why hasn’t anyone around here been talking about this? And how did you find out, Marina?
Her friend glanced around before leaning in to whisper:
— Mykola told me. Mykola Petrovych, I mean.
Mykola Petrovych Blashkun was the hospital’s deputy chief medical officer. He and Marina met at her place twice a week.
— Practically straight from the horse’s mouth… — Kvitka mused under her breath.
— I’m not sure I was the first he told, but it looks like… well, here we are, — Marina gave a shy smile and shrugged. — So… what happens now?
— You’re asking me?
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was like now. Maybe he’d put on a bit of a belly, or gone bald… It happens at thirty-four.
Though, in the last photo she’d seen on his social media page, there was no sign of a bald spot, and his stomach was out of frame. But the smile on his girlfriend’s face shone bright. They were showing the world they were engaged. That was two years ago. After that, Kvitka stopped keeping tabs on her ex-husband’s life, even online.
They probably had a beautiful wedding. And kids… Had they gotten around to that yet, or not? What a painful question. Why had he come back? Kvitka had always thought life abroad suited him just fine.
— I can’t exactly ask Rodan, can I? — Marina pointed out reasonably. — And honestly, I’m way more curious about what you’re planning to do.
— I don’t have any plans. Not when it comes to Rodan. We’ve been divorced too long for me to even think about him, — Kvitka added a bit sharply, touching her friend’s arm. It wasn’t Marina’s fault that Rodan had decided to waltz back into their hometown. — We’ve been nothing to each other for years. Now I’ll just be working under him. That’s all.
— You sure about that? — Marina squeezed her hand.
— Of course. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got to run to surgery now. I promise we’ll chat tonight, at least over the phone.
The hernia operation went smoothly and without a hitch. During that time, Kvitka managed not to think about the inevitable encounter with her ex. She’d long since trained herself to push unnecessary thoughts out of her mind during work hours.
She and Rodan had been together for just over a year, and now the only thing connecting them was the label “exes.” Truth be told, plenty of people at the hospital couldn’t help but remember their whirlwind romance and marriage. But Kvitka hoped no one would gossip about it now. At least, not for too long.
Lost in these thoughts, Kvitka quietly entered the office where the department staff on duty had gathered to welcome the new head—or rather, the acting head. She was probably the last to arrive.
— Sorry I’m late, — she said purely out of politeness, though she didn’t feel at fault. — Good afternoon.
The others barely glanced at her. Only Rodan, standing by the desk, looked at Kvitka with a piercing gaze. Or at least, that’s how it felt to her.
Well, she wasn’t twenty-two anymore. The baby fat on her cheeks was gone. But she hadn’t gained weight. The job didn’t allow for it.
— Good to see you.
Good to see her, he says. She wasn’t exactly thrilled, but there was nothing she could do about it. Why couldn’t he have stayed abroad?
Kvitka positioned herself behind the other surgeons, who, as usual, stood. Only the older orderlies and the senior nurse, Olena Olehivna, sat on the chairs and small couch. Of everyone present, she had worked here the longest.
— Well then… Let’s consider this our formal introduction. Especially since I’ve already spoken with some of you before. We’ll get to know each other better through our work. Olena Olehivna, could you come back in… fifteen minutes? Please bring the work schedules with you. Colleagues, let’s stick to today’s planned tasks. As Vasyl Vasylovych Vasylishyn always said—patients come first. — Kvitka exhaled and started toward the door with the others when a voice called out behind her: — Kvitka… Matviivna, could you stay behind, please?
So, delaying the inevitable conversation wasn’t an option.
Feeling utterly flustered and uneasy, Kvitka let her colleagues file out of the office and took a few steps toward the desk. She couldn’t just stand by the door, could she?
Meanwhile, Rodan hadn’t moved. He was looking at her—thoughtfully and scrutinizingly at the same time. She wished he’d say something. Kvitka had no desire to start the conversation herself. She didn’t know how to act, and it irritated her to no end. Back in the day, they never had issues with talking or behavior. But now, it seemed, they did. Not exactly welcome news.
Why was he so quiet?
Kvitka felt incredibly unsure of herself, and with every passing second, that feeling only grew stronger. This had never happened to her before. She was bold and decisive—everyone knew that. And if push came to shove, Kvitka would speak her mind now too, in a friendly way, because she didn’t want Rodan to guess how much it hurt to see him. The past couldn’t be undone, and they’d have to work side by side, maybe even together.
Still… Let Chuhay speak first. He was the one who asked her to stay, and Kvitka had no intention of making his transition back into this old-new team any easier. Right now, she could be enjoying a coffee or grabbing a quick bite, not standing here in front of her ex like a subordinate. She still had dressings to change today. At least she’d managed to check on the wards before surgery.
But as soon as the door closed, Rodan quickly closed the distance between them and hugged Kvitka as if she were family or a long-lost friend. In short, it was an unexpected embrace.
He pulled her close and said:
— Hey, Kvitka! — She froze, caught completely off guard by the gesture. Thankfully, Chuhay didn’t hold her for long. He stepped back, crossed his arms, gave her another thorough look from her surgical cap to her slippers and back, then remarked: — You’ve gotten even prettier.
— You’re not looking bad yourself, — Kvitka forced a smile. He might think she was rattled by his return. But how did he manage to speak so casually, so naturally? As if nothing had ever happened between them. As if they were just old acquaintances who’d chat for a minute or two before going their separate ways.
But Kvitka wasn’t lying with her soul—Rodan looked great. No belly, no bald spot. A tall, attractive man, fit and full of energy. No longer the boy he was when they got married. He’d matured, his features sharper now. And the trendy stubble added a few years to his look. The medical uniform had always suited Chuhay well.
— Kvitka, how’ve you been?
Was he really going to keep calling her by that old, almost childish nickname? In front of others, she wouldn’t let it slide, but now… She didn’t want to make a fuss during their first meeting.
He wanted to know how she’d been?
— I’ve been great. Still at the same address. — Why had she said that? Rodan hadn’t asked where she lived. Now he might think she was inviting him over. Though… Let him think whatever he wants. She’d stopped caring a long time ago. — Only my parents moved to my grandma’s house outside the city. She passed away two years ago.
— I’m sorry to hear that, — Rodan said quietly, a vertical crease appearing between his brows. It hadn’t been there before.
— Thanks. She was very ill for almost a year before that, so it wasn’t a surprise to us. How long have you been back in town?
Where had her restraint gone? She’d planned to just listen. It had taken years to build that self-control. But the moment Rodan appeared in front of her, Kvitka started blurting out whatever came to mind, unfiltered.
Why had she asked? Did it even matter? Aside from their brief marriage, nothing tied them together anymore. They had no shared interests. Though now, they would. At work.
— I flew in a week ago. My grandmother’s health has taken a turn. A caregiver isn’t an option. You remember how she can’t stand strangers in her home. — She did remember. But why bring it up? — I came back as soon as a job opened up. You probably know my parents moved to the capital a few years ago. Dad got a promotion there.
Is that so?
— No, I didn’t know. — Why did Rodan assume she’d be keeping track of his parents? They certainly hadn’t cared about her life. But his grandmother… — Ruzhanna Hryhorivna… What’s wrong with her? It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.
Maybe in this case, Kvitka was at fault. Rodan’s grandmother was the only person in his small family who had treated her kindly. Even after the divorce and Rodan’s departure, Kvitka had visited the warm-hearted woman a few times. But one day, she ran into Rodan’s parents there, and they made it clear she wasn’t a welcome guest in that house. So she stopped going. A shame, really. She could have found a way to see the kind Mrs. Ruzhanna again.
— It’s a whole laundry list. Diabetes, arthritis, heart issues, blood pressure spikes… In short, she needs close attention. I can just imagine how thrilled she’ll be when she hears you’re working at this hospital too.
— So you didn’t know?
— Know what?
— That I work here?
She probably shouldn’t have asked that either. At the end of the day, they were divorced. Exes didn’t need to keep tabs on each other’s personal lives.
Though Kvitka herself had peeked at Rodan’s social media for a while and even knew he’d worked at a clinic in the Czech Republic. But she had no right to expect the same from her ex-husband.
Still, the question was out there, and there was no taking it back.
— I didn’t know, — Chuhay said after a pause. — For some reason, I thought you’d left town long ago.
So, he hadn’t been interested in her life. Fine, let it be. What had she expected? Enough of this. It had been nearly ten years since they were together.
— Nope. I’m still here, — Kvitka even managed a smile. — Anyway… It’s good to finally have a head of the department. Sometimes we really miss having a leader around. — She widened her smile. — We’ve got a tight-knit team here. Always ready to support and help out. — Kvitka took a step back. — I’ve got to go. Still have dressings to change. Say hi to your grandmother for me.
Kvitka turned toward the door when his voice rang out behind her:
— Kvitka, are you really okay?
She turned back and gave a playful shake of her head.
— Of course. Like I said—everything’s great. Good luck on your first day back at the old-new hospital!