Chapter 7

"Heni, what's all this about?" Liya raised an eyebrow, utterly bewildered by Henok's question.

His eyes bore into hers. "Liya, I know what I feel for you," Henok declared, his voice unwavering. His boldness caught her off guard.

He drew her closer, his hand firm on her waist. "What's your game, Henok?" Liya's voice barely audible.

"What I should've done ages ago, Liya." Before she could react, his lips met hers. At first, it felt like kissing a statue, but soon, Liya responded. Henok's kiss was insistent, leaving them both breathless.

"Henok, are you insane?" Liya's anger simmered, though she kept her voice low.

"Don't pretend you feel nothing, Liya. Your eyes, your cheeks—they tell a different story," Henok insisted.

"But Henok, I'm five years older than you!" Liya stood up, heading for her car. Henok followed, grabbing her hand and kissing her again. Despite her resistance, she melted into the kiss.

Their stolen moment ended abruptly as headlights flashed from a passing car. Liya's shock deepened when she saw who was behind the wheel.

"Dr. Patrick? What's he doing here?" The car pulled away, leaving the compound. Liya climbed into her own car, not uttering a word to Henok. She couldn't fathom where he'd found the audacity to confess and kiss her. After all, Dr. Liya was renowned for her unyielding demeanor.

Back home, it was nearly midnight. Liya indulged in a long, hot shower, hoping it would wash away the whirlwind of emotions. She changed into her nightclothes, ready for sleep. But Henok's actions continued to unsettle her. His boldness had amazed her, yet the memory of their kisses fluttered in her stomach. Unconsciously, she touched her lips, a smile escaping.

She couldn't deny her feelings for Henok. However, reality crashed in: she was five years older than him. This couldn't be right. Tomorrow, she'd have to set things straight. Their friendship needed closure.

"Almighty," she whispered, "help him understand." And with that plea, she drifted into sleep. 

The next morning, chaos engulfed the hospital office. Liya spotted Aron in the midst of the commotion. His expression revealed his frustration.

"Liya, you look unwell," Aron said urgently. "All the hospital staff has elected you as their voice. It's time to step up."

Liya, still bewildered, asked, "What's going on? Why is everyone shouting?"

"The new chairman is wreaking havoc," Aron explained. "He's slashed employee numbers—janitors by half, nurses by half, and general practitioners by one third. And to top it off, he's decided not to pay interns. Even Melat and I have been affected. You've got to do something, Liya."

"Don't worry, Aron," Liya declared boldly. "Whoever this chairman is, he'll have to reverse these decisions."

Determined, she entered the chairman's office, where a man sat behind the desk. Her eyes widened. "Dr. Patrick Solomon," she blurted out.

"Correct. How can I help you, Doctor?" His warm smile didn't match the turmoil outside.

Liya composed herself. "I'm Liya Mulat, a neuro-ophthalmologist and staff representative. I have objections to the decisions made this morning."

Patric dismissed her. "Present your objections at the board meeting next week."

"Why did you do this?" Liya's frustration bubbled over. "Why suspend and reduce staff?"

Patric leaned back, smiling sheepishly. "Dr. Liya, there's no budget for all these workers. They're excessive for our workload. Two thousand janitors? Quite exaggerated."

"But, Doctor, the hospital is too big for 1000 janitors as well," Liya protested.

"Dr. Liya, this is a hospital, not a charity. We hire people to work efficiently. It's not large enough for 1000 janitors. A manageable workload is acceptable. As for the 500 nurses, half of them have nothing to do during their shifts. Why pay for idle hands? They're expendable. 250 nurses are sufficient. And the general practitioners—there are 1000 of them here, which is excessive. We don't need 667," Patric explained curtly.

Liya countered, "We need even more GP doctors. 1000 isn't enough. You just arrived yesterday; you don't know what we've endured these past three months."

"I don't need to be here to understand the hospital's crisis, Dr. Liya. I have all the data," Patric replied.

"But, Dr. Patric, we've lived through it. We've weathered every storm," Liya insisted.

"You're eloquent, Dr. Liya. But if this hospital truly needed GP doctors, they'd be fighting the crisis, not indulging in public romance," Patric hit a nerve. Liya was momentarily speechless.

"That's my personal life," she retorted.

"Understood, Dr. Liya. But remember, this is a workplace, not a hotel or your home. And correct me if I'm wrong—Dr. Henok Wase was on duty last night. If his commitment to the hospital mattered, he'd have been with his patients, not romancing you in public," Patric's expression disgusted her. Liya was taken aback that Patric knew about Henok's overnight shift. Working with Dr. Patric wouldn't be a walk in the park. He wasn't the same person she'd read about in journals or seen online. He was a tough nut to crack.

"Enough, Dr. Patric," Liya snapped. "You can't badmouth the staff here. If anyone messes up, there are protocols. They'll face consequences accordingly. Being chairman doesn't grant you the right to insult employees."

"I didn't insult you," Patric retorted. "I merely stated what I observed last night. Anyway, if you have questions or objections, I can't solve them alone. Bring them up at the board meeting next week."

With that, Liya stormed out of his office, her anger simmering.