Sunlight streamed through the panoramic windows, illuminating the sterile white haven of the hospital’s main office. But Sandra barely registered the gleaming equipment, the crisp scrubs lining the wall, or the enthusiastic voice of Ally, the nurse showing her around. Her gaze kept gravitating towards the window, mesmerized by the mosaic of Copenhagen sprawled beneath.
“Our cardiac unit is top-notch,” Ally chirped, pointing to a row of monitors flickering with emerald green lines. “And the views, of course, are unbeatable.”
Unbeatable, they might be, with cobbled streets snaking through ancient buildings. But for Sandra, they were a canvas incomplete, missing a single, vital color. Her eyes danced amongst the throngs of people, searching for a flash of that blonde hair, a glint of blue eyes that held the secrets of the universe.
Ally continued, oblivious to the storm brewing within Sandra. “Our cafeteria serves the most delicious smorrebrod. You’ll love it!”
Smorrebrod? Copenhagen? It felt like another planet compared to the grimy bodegas and the frantic ballet of yellow cabs back in New York. Back where a different symphony played, a symphony where the bass notes reverberated with the memory of laughter, pain and whispered promises.
“And here’s the staff lounge,” Ally said, pushing open a door. “Perfect for unwinding after a long shift. Of course, as the new medical director, you have your own lounge.”
But amidst the plush couches and steaming mugs, all Sandra could hear was the echo of silence in her own apartment, the void left by a sudden departure, a goodbye delivered through television broadcasts and newspapers.
“Are you alright, Dr. Bullock?” Ally’s voice broke through the fog of Sandra’s memories.
The brunette blinked, startled back to the sterile reality of the hospital. “Yes, yes, everything’s fine,” She stammered, forcing a smile. “This place is amazing, truly. I can’t wait to get started.”
The lie tasted bitter on her tongue. This pristine world, with its efficient order and cheerful smiles, felt like a cage. All she craved was the chaos of New York.
As Ally resumed her tour, Sandra turned back to the window, the city shimmering like a mirage. Would she ever find her way back to that melody, that lost harmony? Or was she destined to forever chase echoes in a symphony gone silent? The streets glittered, uncaring, offering no answers, only the endless tapestry of life moving on without her, without Cate.
And yet, amidst the ache of loss, a tiny seed of determination sprouted within Sandra. Perhaps, she thought, this new chapter, this clean canvas in Copenhagen, could hold the first brushstrokes of a new melody. A melody she wouldn’t play alone, but one woven with the memories of the love she carried, whispering a promise – to live, to hope, and to find, in the symphony of strangers, a new harmony for her heart.
“Wait.” Sandra cut Ally off whilst the younger woman was explaining how their elevators work, “I know we still need to tour downfloor, but I can get myself acquainted with that. Can you like show me my office already?” She hoped she didn’t sound mean or arrogant with that, still, she tried to give Ally her sweetest smile.
Ally smiled back at her, “Of course.”
The brunette nodded. Ally took the lead, and walked ahead of the brunette, as to which, Sandra gladly followed. The walk to her office wasn’t that far, still, Sandra felt like it was too far-flung from where they were earlier due to all the pleasantries she got from almost everyone she had met going there. Being the medical director of the hospital was something dreadful to think about, but the brunette knew that she could get away with the ropes around the position.
“Here is your office. That red button on the side of your table is for you. Push that and it will connect you to the intercomm on all the other offices here at the hospital. Anything you need, Dr. Bullock?” Ally stated, her hand extended at the opened-door.
The brunette entered her office. It was a masterpiece of glass and luxury. She had never seen an office that big. She had the glass walls that overlooked Copenhagen. With a fast beating heart, Sandra looked back at Ally by the door.
“Are you sure this is mine?”
“Oh, please.” Ally laughed innocently, “You are the medical director of the hospital. You are the queen here, Dr. Bullock.”
“Stop it.”
Ally shook her head as she laughed, “And before I forget, I’ll be interviewing people to be your assistant. Tomorrow or the next day, maybe you’ll get one, but I’ll try to make sure you get one as soon as possible.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Call me when you need anything, Dr.” And with that, Ally exited, leaving the brunette feeling overwhelmed standing on the centre of her own office.
“So this is what I’m left with.” Sandra muttered to herself as she scanned the whole place, somehow there was a tiny bit of hope that she would be fine there, but a huge part of her already missed New York.
—–
The cold Danish night stroked its brushes against the dark cast of the evening. The lampposts have lit the cobblestoned pavement. Flock of crowds, locals and tourists, were strolling around the metro, trying to search for a spot where they could reap fun throughout the night. Sandra, wrapped in her trench coat, blew out a sigh. Everywhere she looked, people were in pairs and in groups; laughing, talking, and she, despite her best efforts, still felt like going there was a huge mistake.
“This is just because I’m homesick.” She mumbled as she crossed the street, signalling her hand against a car for it to stop; as she reached the other side of the pavement, she turned towards an alley, not really caring where it would lead her, “Homesick or I’m just not really use to this Danish night.”
The brunette just got off from work. But instead of crashing down into her apartment, she chose to stay out. She hadn’t found solace in her new apartment yet, and she didn’t want to feel like an unwelcomed ghost in there, so going out, was the remedy she had in mind. She continued to stroll along the city, completely unfamiliar with the alleys. After walking for about a few minutes, the brunette spotted a bench just beside a lamppost to which she gladly sat on, completely oblivious of the rain that was about to come. As the brunette sat on the bench, she got her phone. As the LCD lit up, Cate’s photo holding an Oscar showed up on her lockscreen.
“I missed you.” She mumbled, tracing the lockscreen with her thumb as the aching throb flowed throughout her veins.
Papercuts never felt so deep, never felt so painful as missing someone you don’t have any idea where. It was like looking for an unmarked grave in a moss-covered cemetery – you might not know where the bones are, but you have a feeling it’s there.
“Fuck you, Cate. Fuck you.” Sandra spoke, in synch with the sudden falling of the rain which made the brunette stand up and looked for somewhere she could stay.
***
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