I showed up to Urie Animal Hospital, with every intention not to be productive. Hayley at reception greeted me when I walked in.

“Good morning, Dr. Dohr!” She pronounced with her usual enthusiasm, “Dr. Slade wanted me to let you know he needs you to report to the Endangered Species Unit as soon as you arrived.”

“Sure thing. May I ask why?” I questioned.

“He didn’t say, but I would assume it’s something to do with the primates.”

I rolled my eyes at Hayley’s ditzy persona.

“Uh, okay,” I replied. Most individuals living today wonder how society has failed. Hayley Ross is a prime example of how. I feel guilty for thinking it, but come on. That girl couldn’t spot a tornado if she was caught in one! I swear I thank God, well, myself, for maintaining at least a moderate level of common sense and intelligence throughout my entire life.

I was halfway up the stairs to the ESU when Nurse Owens, another person working the department, stopped me.

“Oh, he’s got an interesting theory to put to the test this morning,” he stated, sarcastically.

“Wonderful. What’s it about this time?”

“Why don’t you travel on up there and he’ll tell you himself!” Owens offers. Before I could shake any useful information out of the man, he dashed down the stairs and most likely headed to reception to flirt with “pea brain” down there. This is exactly what I mean when I say my job is impossible. Pretty much everyone is informed about everything before I’m ever notified. Even a self-absorbed tool like Dirk Owens, who happens to be at a lower position in his career than me, receives all the details about the recent proposition my boss has in store, while I’m barely in my BMW on my way to work. I don’t get it, but that’s my job: Nonsense at its finest.

I open the door of the animal testing lab in Room 309, to see one test subject on the table, well sedated with anesthetic.

“Alright, boss, what’s your great idea today?” I asked the back of Dr. Slade’s head.

He turned around to face me, holding a test tube of some aqua blue colored substance in his left hand, and a needle-tipped syringe in his right. “I was thinking the contents of this test tube might be the cure to this epidemic that’s been sweeping out every species of animal on Earth, including the one we’ve been working on for the past nine months now.”

“You mean the very last animals we can ever do experiments on?” I asked him the exact same question ever since these irritating nine months began, despite my knowledge of the answer.

“Yeah, those are the ones!” Geez, this guy is the perfect portrayal of the “mad scientist” character you would see in countless films and television programs. I suppose his behavior adds up, though, since he has dedicated the past fifteen years of his life to rescuing the populations of just about all species of animal there is, or was. And although all attempts have resulted in exactly the reversed effect of triumph, he has yet to back down on his studies and experiments.

“Anyways, I believe the potion will do just fine with the general anesthetic I injected into the monkey’s bloodstream. Would you please do the honor of testing my brand new cure?” Dr. Slade proposed.

My crazy boss was trying to make the assignment sound exciting, yet I knew if anything were to go awry, the person who physically provided the patient with the substance, which happens to be me, would have all fingers pointing back at them.

“Eh, I’m good. You should definitely take the reigns on this one, doctor,” I suggested.

“No, no, I do not mind it one bit if you take initiative. Besides, if this one goes according to plan, you know what this could do for your career?”

“Wonders, I’m sure. As a result, you must perform the test!”

“Oh no, I’m already the head of the greatest medical team the city of Chicago has to offer! Also, this was supposed to be a special request the others and I saved especially for you. So, how about it then?”

I thought I really had him convinced to not have me do this one. Yet, as usual, he wouldn’t budge.

“Ugh, yeah I got this one,” I responded to Dr. Slade with the least bit of rapture.

I snatched the syringe and liquid out of the doctor’s grip and gradually made my way over to the testing table. Every member of our team, apart from Owens, was account for: Blackstone, Taylor, Richards, Padilla, and Fowley. Then there was a sixth member, whom I was unaware of their identity due to the fact that every single one of them was wearing surgical masks.

“Who’s this?” I questioned the other specialists, motioning to the stranger.

The disguised man removed the mask to reveal the face of my husband.

“Vince!” I exclaimed, “What are you doing at the hospital today?”

“Oh, you know, just an occasional slow day at the lab this morning,” he replied in a tone that seemed almost convincing. Despite his efforts, though, I understood the real purpose for his presence… to back me up if any issues developed in the experimentation process.

“It happens,” I announced, returning the favor.

I quickly turned my attention back to the venture. “So I assume this is Patient #217, correct?”

The physicians nodded in agreement.

“Alright. From what Dr. Slade disclosed to me, the animal is stupefied with the general anesthesia provided, and is ready to be operated on,” I mentioned the most self-explanatory update, in an attempt to avoid this indubitably unavoidable predicament. I eventually give in, and find myself dispensing the blue liquid into the patient’s bloodstream.

As I witnessed the concoction collide with the crimson, my heart raced at an incredible rate. Please, please don’t make me look like the biggest screw-up for the one-millionth time. This can work, this has to work.

After a moment or two, the animal remained stable, relaxed. While this was taking place, I began to feel excitement overwhelm my senses. Maybe this will finally be it, the one thing that would cause the revival of every species of animal that once was, as well as the ultimate breakthrough in my medical career. I, need, faith…

My eyes gaze at the primate, while the complexion on its face went from the most pale shade of cream, to an almost ordinary shade of beige. The animal’s bloodshot pupils were exchanged for two slightly glossy white spheres filled with a rich mahogany center. The entire scene seemed to portray the most ideal outcome of a vaccine test to be imagined: The patient practically traded every symptom obtained from the fourth stage of the virus, for an average body temperature and perfect vitals. I figured it was all in good humor, and the other doctors had conducted a master gag, in hopes of getting me exhilarated over nothing. Then I looked to my husband, and his stunned expression of which I was greatly convinced resembled my own, put an end to my conspiracy theory.

With the smallest bit of energy I could conjure up, I muttered, “I, did it.”

Richards, Taylor, each and every physician who witnessed the miracle provided me with much positive recognition. Dr. Slade, however, had his face lowered to the floor with embarrassment. In my opinion, I found his reaction amusing. Finally, the loyal, accommodating doctor is not forced to fall victim to the obnoxious, cowardly acts of a lunatic. I bask in the limelight of my own personal success, taking my focus away from the patient for hasty rejoice. I mean, how was I supposed to know this occurrence in my life would be the one I wish the most would have never happened? I felt I had this, in fact I was absolutely sure of it. Until, I turned my attention back to the animal.

The monkey’s eyes became completely dominated by layers of black. Its body temperature practically quadrupled, which caused a large outbreak of burns of the third degree to conceal its physique. Suddenly, every ounce of assurance I had in the procedure turned to a massive contradiction.

Specimen #217’s heart monitor flat-lined at approximately 7:35 A.M. that Tuesday morning.

“Well, there goes another one,” Dr. Slade murmured to the team, as he made the anticipated call to Shock Canyon Cemetery.

The days following the unfortunate incident were dull and filled with hopelessness. It wasn’t my first time around the predictably-faulted practices of a delusional doctor, yet the permanent discomfort tucked thoroughly between my heart and my gut, had me persuaded the reversal.

“Hello, hello, hellooo! How are you today, Dr. Dohr?” Hayley exclaimed to my lifeless cast. Amazement sweeps over me, for I am clueless as to how, despite the worst of perils an individual can encounter, a person can react with such a go-lucky attitude.

“Not so good, Hayley,” I managed to speak

“Oh yeah, you’re probably still upset about the thing on Tuesday, aren’t you?”

I sarcastically snicker to myself at her reference to a near medical advance as a “thing.” Regardless, I keep my professional composure.

“Upset? Nah. My feelings towards the whole ‘thing’ now are somewhat parallel to a teenage girl who got primped and eager for her senior prom, only to be blown off by her date and forced to pig out on two gallons of Mint Bliss ice cream. No big deal.”

“Well, well, well. I think it’s safe to say you’re already moving forward,” Ross replied. I’m done trying to display sanity to these freak shows. I stomp away from reception before Hayley had the opportunity to spill more arrogant words out of her big mouth. Man, people these days, they just don’t get it. And for once in my life, I’ve made the decision to accept the unfortunate fact.

There is, in fact, one sterling result of this tragedy, and that would be that the ECU must be shut down for two weeks, as is normal routine after an experimentation failure. So today is simply going to be another ordinary day here at Urie Hospital… well, it always has the potential to be.

I spent the majority of my morning in the Human Patient Sector, or HPS, for short. Now that’s the whole concept that has continually thrown me off. To have one hospital taking both human and animal patients is just asking for chaos to ensue. The government made the choice to combine both animal and regular hospitals in order to save money in our consistently plummeting economy ever since sometime during the year 2008, and as somewhat of a consequence to us doctors we’ve had to endure several more years of schooling in order to be certified in medicating both animals and humans. Yet luckily for the vast majority of hospitals today, we’ve been able to manage the diversity. Makes sense, considering we only have one species of animal left in the entire world we have to care for.

I head towards the very first room on the left to do my mandatory patient evaluation for the week. First up is Human Patient #1, Mr. Ronald Sterling, a retired pilot from Ashford, Connecticut. He’s been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease for roughly twenty years now, and currently is in the fourth stage of the illness. Obviously, if we had a death poll at this hospital, Mr. Sterling would most likely be at the top of the chart. Regardless, it is our job to ensure every patient is somehow making progress or at least trying to.

“How are we today, Mr. Sterling?” I embrace the patient with my cheerful, yet totally sleazy character.

“Eh, surviving,” he replied. The tone of his voice sounded unusually low and hoarse.

“You don’t sound like you’ll be able to survive through the night, sir. What seems to be the problem?”

“Well, I’ve had these sharp pains all over my body that seem to come and go every once in a while,” Mr. Sterling explained to me.

“I see, and about how long has this been going on?” I asked.

“Ever since this past Monday I’ve had this,” he replied.

I took a full inspection of his body, including checking his body temperature and taking a thorough look at his pupils. Everything pretty much checked out, yet Mr. Sterling insisted I call up Dr. Slade so he could get, and I quote, a “real doctor’s opinion.” Old folks, what are you gonna do? Despite my frustration, I pull out my iPhone to text message psycho to come take a closer look.

When I receive the confirmation from Dr. Slade that he’ll be right up, I turn my attention to Mr. Sterling and notice something incredibly bizarre. His normal vital signs start to fade, as he rapidly begins displaying symptoms of a disease I have never come in contact with, in a human. In an instant moment of déjà vu, Mr. Sterling’s complexion fills with distorted burns and his eyes are doused in shades of charcoal. However, due to his preexisting condition with Parkinson’s, he starts to experience involuntary body shakes that grow from mild to violent in a matter of seconds! Concerned with the patient’s and my own personal well-being, I couldn’t think of anything better to do than scream for help. Just then, Dr. Slade arrives to the first room on the left and immediately takes action. He holds the patient down and orders me to grab the shot sitting on the table in the far right corner of the room filled with medication to hopefully reverse the symptoms and provide him with physical stability again. I clutch the needle and jab it into Mr. Sterling’s upper left arm as quick as time would allow.

Then, slowly but surely, the shaking stopped. The third degree burns tarnish, and his eyes turn its normal white with emerald pupils once again.

“Phew! What a close call that was!” Dr. Slade pronounced with extreme relief. And for once in the countless years I’ve spent working with him, I found something we could agree on.

The sudden scare of Mr. Sterling’s almost death put Dr. Slade and myself in an immensely vulnerable position. An array of questions began to run through my head at practically the speed of light. How long has this been going on? Is the disease airborne? Are there any other patients in the hospital already infected with the illness? Are there any other symptoms we need to watch out for? Can we find a cure before it’s too late?

Baffled beyond belief, I looked to Dr. Slade for any ideas on what we could do. Yet miserably by the look upon his face, I could tell he obtained the same mindset as me and was hoping maybe I knew what to do. Suddenly I thought of Vince. Perhaps if I call him down to the hospital and we explain to him the whole situation, he would have somewhat of a solution to our issue.

“I have to make a phone call,” I inform Dr. Slade and excuse myself from Mr. Sterling’s room.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, do whatever you have to,” he replied. I could tell he was intensely lost about the whole event, and would probably take advice from a random bum on the Chicago streets on a way to figure this out.

As I exit the room, I wonder down the hallway in search of a little corner I could call Vince in, just for a bit of privacy. I discover a decent spot away from the crowds of doctors and nurses a little ways down from Room #1, pull out my cell phone, and quickly dial Vince’s mobile number and pray he picks up.

“What do you need, love?” Vince picked up, and my prayers were answered.

“Hey, do you think you could possibly swing on by to the hospital like, now? There’s a bit of an emergency down here and we need your help!”

“Gee, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea-”

“Seriously, Vince?! I’m pleading to you, please get down here as soon as you can!” I hollered with great fury. Goodness, I felt like I was talking to his mother on the phone.

“Alright!!! Holy crap, I was only joking with you. I’ll be there in no time at all,” he responded in his usual relaxed tone. I swear, if it wasn’t for his “go with the flow” perspective on life, I would probably be checked into the mental asylum down the street from here with all my odd phobias and short temper. And that is why Mr. Vincent Jensen Dohr, is my guardian angel.

In a matter of minutes, Vince was walking up the staircase towards the Human Patient Sector. He rushed over and greeted me with a sweet little kiss and a warm hug.

“Hey, sorry I took so long,” he joked.

“Yeah, I was getting a little worried for a moment there,” I responded, “But in all seriousness, we desperately need the assistance of a crafty scientist like you.”

“That’s what I’m here for! So, where’s the patient? Is he alright now?”

“Yes, he’s just fine for now.”

There was a long pause for a second as I was still striving to collect my thoughts.

“…So?? Can I see him?” Vince questioned my bleak face.

I immediately became focused. “Yeah of course, sorry.”

I led my husband into Room #1 and introduced him to Mr. Sterling once we entered.

“So, Mr. Ronald Sterling. Could you please interpret precisely what happened to you several minutes ago?” Vince asked the elderly man.

“Of course. I was just lying here in my hospital bed, when all of a sudden, my body started shaking, uncontrollably. Now I know that seems typical for a twenty-year victim of Parkinson’s disease, but I have never, ever shaken as horribly as I did at that moment,” Mr. Sterling explained.

“Uh, huh. My wife also mentioned you had some kind of discoloration in your eyes during this, uh, attack. Can you explain to me what complications you had with that, as well?”

“Certainly. During this wretched experience, I could literally see splatters of black overrun my eyesight! It was unbelievable, and nothing of which I’ve ever endured before!”

“And the burns??”

“Oh, they were the worst. I thought I was only receiving these sharp pains all over myself because of my old age, but at that point in time, I felt as if I was just lit on fire! I almost couldn’t take the pain, and I was reaching for a scalpel on the table next to me, but your wife and Dr. Slade held me down and prevented me from reaching it,” Mr. Sterling declared, seeming rather disappointed.

“I apologize, Ronnie, but I think my wife and Dr. Slade were only trying to help you get rid of the pain and calm you down, without having to result to your unfortunate demise,” Vince backed us up.

“Unfortunate demise?? Sir, I am an old retired pilot from a small town in the great state of Connecticut. Unlike yourself, I am well aware of the fact that my life is basically through. With that being said, I do not believe I deserve even an ounce more of suffering, whether it be physical or mental, in my lifetime. Do you comprehend what I’m saying?”

“Of course, I completely get what you mean. But considering your current condition and for possibly the sake of Earth’s animal population and mankind, we desperately need you to stay with us for the time being.”

“Now wait just a second! Mankind?? What in tar nations are you referring to?!”

Mr. Sterling was increasingly puzzled, and so was I for that matter. I retained almost no clue as to why Vince chose to compare what was happening to the patient with our experimentation process of the world’s last endangered species. Then I recollected the symptoms of Patient #217 in comparison to the symptoms of Mr. Sterling fifteen minutes ago. Pitch black eyesight, burn-infested skin, all these manifestations were identical to one another. As a result, I made the assumption that the same process wiping out the populations of animals, was already taking its toll on us.

Before I even opened my mouth to make the statement, Vince pulled me aside for what I suspected to be a serious discussion. He ushered me over to the exact same location where I stood and waited for him to arrive at the hospital.

“Okay, so here’s my plan…” He began his proposition. I damn sure hope it’s going to be one of his more brilliant ones.

Vince continued, “So what I figured we could do is perform a series of thorough evaluations on Mr. Sterling, to you know, hopefully discover the source of the virus.”

I contemplated the idea for a short moment. “Sounds pretty legitimate. Just one question: How much more thorough could the tests be, apart from the simple standard check-up I provide the patient with weekly?”

“Well you see, sweetheart, I thought we would do some blood work, as well as analyze Mr. Sterling’s basic motor skills and perhaps current level of intelligence.”

“Level of intelligence? Vincent, the man’s in his sixties and has been retired from his job for over ten years now! I’m pretty sure you can just create a rough estimate at the top of your head as to how long ago he actually had to apply himself,” I scolded.

“Honey, can I finish what I’m trying to explain to you before you start with the ‘going off about complete nonsense’ tactic again?” Vincent proposed to my outraged attitude.

I relaxed myself. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Alright then. As I was in the process of conveying to you, we are going to assess his intelligence, yet we will not go into anything too complex. Just simple mathematics and reading skills, I think. I am curious as to if certain intellectual diversities might be a major symptom of the virus.”

“Guess we’re just gonna have to find out for ourselves, won’t we?” I asked.

He flashed his perfect veneers as I stared into his striking emerald eyes.

“Guess so,” he answered.

I could tell both of us were eager. Hopeful for the experiment to take place, more than prepared for our journey towards possibly retrieving the ultimate formula for the development of a cure of which actually obtains validity. Yet despite such anxiety, both Vince and myself were unfortunately swamped with countless obligations for the day.

“We’ll begin the first stage of testing tomorrow morning at six,” I declared.

Vince’s disappointed reaction to my statement left me befuddled.

“What’s wrong? I mean I realize it’s a bit earlier than usual, but if we want to get this whole experiment done in a matter of three months, we’re going to need all the time we can get.”

“Yeah, I understand that. Buuut…”

I couldn’t quite determine what his deal was. “Buuut what?? Enlighten me on your dilemma, please,” I demanded, attempting to sound at ease in spite of the increasing level of frustration I felt forming within me.

Vince decided to fill me in, “It’s Colin’s thirtieth today, and the boys and I thought it would be fun to head down to Leonard’s Bar tonight for a drink to celebrate.”

“Oh really, a drink? Are you sure the singular element of ‘one drink’ isn’t going to change somewhere in the midst of all that “fun?” I implied, with my hardly masked outrage starting to slip out through a form of sarcasm.

“No no, most definitely not!” Vince defended himself with such an intensely strong effort, anyone who obtained a pinch of common sense would have to be a complete imbecile to fall for his garbage.

“Fine, I’ll take your word for it. However, if you show up to the house at two in the morning, do not come banging on my bedroom window, pleading for me to drag my weary body out of bed and let you in. Even if I end up wide awake, tossing and turning all throughout the evening, I will deliberately refuse to unlock the front door!”

“Now you listen to me, Nat! What happened last Friday night was a mistake. My only intention was to have a good time, so yes, I did have a few more shots of jager than I had anticipated, but I can put that whole event in the past, which is precisely what you should consider doing.”

“Well as much I tried to do so I can’t help but think if I do, you’ll consider yourself eternally off the hook for it, which you’re not!”

I soon become baffled beyond belief, wondering how you and the love of your life could maintain a mentality at an all time high towards one another, and find yourselves bickering and having, without a doubt, one of the most ridiculous arguments in the history of relationships, barely a second later. Once I apprehend the foolishness of my behavior, I relax my nerves and as odd as it may appear to be, Vince does the same thing and becomes immensely apologetic.

“You know, this is just stupid. Why do we fight like this, for absolutely NO reason at all?! The main thing I would like you to know is I promise, on our infant son’s petty head, I will limit myself to a single drink during the festivities this evening. You alright with that??”

For some abnormal reason (probably the innocent yet insanely gorgeous expression on his face), I decided to cave in. “Ughhh, yes I’m fine with that!” I replied, trying to sound resistant to his impossibly resistible charm.

“Okay then, I’ll see you later-”

“Whoawhoawhoooa baby, not so fast! I suppose this means you won’t be home for dinner tonight?”

“Welll… ,” Vince began his response, then saw the disappointment in my eyes and immediately made the compromise to at least have the decency of a good husband and show up for supper, “Of course not, I’ll be there even if it’s only for a minute or two.”

I felt content with his answer. “Awhhh, aren’t you sweet?”

Vince leaned into me and grinned. “The sweetest,” he stated with one of his many passionate kisses to follow.

Similar to the numerous moments of which Vince and I shared the perfect peck, I wished for the split second it occurred in to be split into longer periods of time. Much to my dismay, I knew this impervious desire of mine was to be cut short when I notice Vince take his iPhone out of his back pocket to check his digital clock.

“Oh man, I gotta get back to work,” he declared with his sun-kissed complexion sinking to the floor, “We’ll pick up on this later, when I come home from Leonard’s before two A.M. tomorrow morning.”

I giggled. “Alright, I get it. You don’t have to fake it anymore.”

“Haha, good, because I’m ready to party my brains out!!” Vince tried to humor me with his sarcasm.

“Oh you better not!” I took his little joke far too seriously.

“Only joking, dear! See you later,” Vince pronounced, providing me with one last kiss to my forehead before he journeyed back to his laboratory.

He hesitantly turned his attention towards the staircase down the hallway, and slowly took backwards steps down it, waving to me until his appearance was no longer visible.

Vincent’s rush to get back to his work facility soon reminded me of the many patients I had left to evaluate by the end of the day. Rather than dread the unavoidable task of checking in with each and every human inhabitant of Urie Hospital, I walked back into Room #1 to see Mr. Sterling.

Still appearing generously shaken up by the whole incident (or perhaps it was only his Parkinson’s acting up again), Ronald Sterling could be found rambling on and on about potential theories of why such an outbreak of possibly fatal symptoms happened to him all at once. Then, he caught my eye when he hopped off of his hospital bed and onto his knees.

Making direct eye contact with me, he pleaded, “Even if this is my final request, please do not let what is happening to me affect anyone in the near future! It is one thing for me, a lonely old man with a preexisting condition, take victim to this deadly virus. It is another, for a youthful teen or an innocent adolescent to have the opportunity of a long and healthy life be forever delayed because of this illness. Doctor, the only thing I would like you to swear to me, is that I will be the first and the last individual to ever be diagnosed with this… ever.”

I could easily tell he wasn’t just making a psychotic statement. What he said to me, he actually meant. This made me somewhat emotional, I have to admit, not just due to the idea that this man was terrified of his own fatality, but the fact that he was deeply terrified of the death of another, possibly a total stranger to him. So although I hadn’t even gathered my all-star medical team and informed them of Vince’s plan to resolve this disease crisis, nor was there even an absolute guarantee the formula we developed from Mr. Sterling’s test results would be effective, I forced myself to allow the hopeless man some hope.

“I swear, sir. We will do everything in our power to assure you will be the last victim of this virus,” I responded, overly exaggerating my true amount of faith in this project.

Ronald Sterling immediately bent his head towards the laces on my nurse’s shoes and gave them what I estimated was hundreds of kisses.

“The protector and savior of all mankind! I provide you with many thanks!!” He announced, continuing to have a full-on make out session with my shoe laces.

I lifted my left leg and desperately tried to shake Mr. Sterling off of it. After countless moments of refusal, he eventually gained enough dignity to let go of my feet and pick himself up off the tile floor.

So I lied to the man. It’s not like I had any other choice, considering Mr. Sterling purposely let any ounce of sophistication he maintained for himself simply disappear once he was on his knees, displaying true affection to my shoes. Part of me, most likely the smallest, felt guilty for committing to a promise I was unaware I would even come close to following through with. Yet the other 99.99% of me actually had confidence in the success of Vince and mine’s experiment. Even if it was merely a thoroughly- arranged plan for the time being, I truthfully believed it had potential. My entire perspective on the topic could easily be interpreted through going to see a movie I have been anxious to see based on the trailers and
television commercials I witnessed about it. I anticipate the ending result to be spectacular, yet I could be tragically thrown off at the outcome and it could potentially trash my faith in anything for quite awhile. Sort of a ridiculous analogy, but the connection is clear, right? Never mind, I should simply try my best to put concerns about this experiment aside until tomorrow.

Rather than continuing to stand in the middle of Room #1 of the HPS and ponder numerous theories for most of the hour, I informed Mr. Sterling of my busy schedule for the day and assured him I would come back to check in before my shift ended. The unordinary patient gave me many more thanks, as I clutched my thick, hefty clipboard and made my way out into the hallway. I suppose it’s on to the next one.

I awoke the following day to what had to have been the most beautiful morning to ever even exist in the history of Chicago mornings. Practically leaping out of bed and into the shower, I almost didn’t come to the realization that Vincent had arrived home last night, before twelve, his copy of the house key now on the dresser next to the mattress. Impressed by the fact that his occasional good sense of judgment was put to better use last night, I caught myself before I entered the shower, tossed on my black bathrobe with accenting white lace, and tiptoed over to his bedside to wake him up for our big day at work.

Vince’s head was face up on the feathered pillow, all the wrinkles and muscles of which composed his angelic face were in a deep state of tranquility. This was the routine position he usually slept in. Out of the numerous roommates I have had during my lifetime, Vincent Dohr was, in fact, the only individual I knew who slept directly on his back. The legitimate authenticity of this consistently left me secretly celebrating with myself, since even the slightest difference could make me feel I had someone truly special in my life. Rather than provide him with anxiety of our first day on our project and the current time on my wristwatch, I gently tapped him on the shoulder and hoped he would awake as peacefully as he fell asleep.

He made a groggy noise as his eyelids gradually started to open and reveal his dazzling eyes of which become the origin of my most pleasant thoughts. With a gorgeous grin, he whispered, “Good morning, my love. Is it that time already?”

“Oh yes it is!” I announced with immense excitement that just about caused me to raise my voice to shouting level.

“Wonderful. Just ten more minutes, and I’ll be up and at it.”

“Fine with me, as long as you get out of bed and dressed by the time we need to leave, I could care less how long you fall back asleep for.”

Once this announcement was made, his eyelids immediately shut again and he replied, “You have no idea how great it is to hear that.”

I giggled at his comment and soon thought perhaps resting a little longer with him would be a better option than getting ready, yet the intense feeling in my stomach made me reverse my train of thought in an instant. Like déjà vu, I leaped out of bed once again, removed my bathrobe and placed it on the coat hook in the corner of the bathroom, and got into the shower.
________________________

Just before my departure, I took one last glance in the full-length mirror sitting in the corner of the master bedroom. As my eyes searched from the highest hair on my head to the slightly pointed tip of my high heels, they told me I looked better than ever today. I felt relieved, for if anything were to turn sour on the job today, at least I maintained the assurance that my wardrobe would be safe.

Another task I chose to perform before leaving, was take a quick look out the window to admire the glory that was that Friday morning. The breathtaking tree residing in our backyard seemed to had sprouted violet orchid flowers in various sections of it. A variety of robotic birds took flight into the sky with such grace, they appeared like the ballroom dancers of the air. And the sun, with the brilliant, beaming light reflecting off of it, the entire scene boosted my mood even higher than it already was. Today, in all its perfection, was the day when everything had to change.

To prevent myself from wasting too much precious time, I shifted my mind back to arriving to work in a prompt fashion. Earnestly convinced it was rather inconsiderate, I debated whether or not I would leave before Vince, in order to get a head start on the experiment. Truthfully, deep inside my heart, I couldn’t care less. I decided it would be best to leave before him, therefore he might be impressed with my voracity to take urgent initiative on this. There could be a chance he will become incredibly ticked off, but I’ll just make myself believe that whole concept is slim. So rather than do the ordinary ‘grab a quick breakfast, make small talk with the husband, take our time wandering to our cars in the driveway, issue a short yet sincere peck on the lips and hesitantly drift our separate ways,’ I darted down the stairs, snatched the refillable Starbucks cup on the kitchen counter, didn’t bother with breakfast, rushed out the front door and into my car. Although I did, in fact, deem my behavior as slightly rude and inconsiderate; I even unlocked the driver side door of my Mercedes and anticipated a trip back inside. Then I remembered we were going to be working together every single morning, for the next three months. This thought put me back in my original state of mind, as I jammed my key into the ignition to start my car, pulled out of the driveway, and continued my journey to Urie Hospital, where hopefully, a new event in history was destined to take place.

On the way to work, I made a pit stop to Starbucks to get my usual ‘caramel macchiato with no whipped cream, extra caramel, and a double shot of espresso.’ The sugar-infested, calorie-overloaded beverage must have been a personal form of cocaine for me, considering I turned up at the parking lot of the facility in no more than five minutes. My stomach sustained a reputation of grumbling and turning, yet I refused to let it dominate my thoughts. For the time being, I forced myself to run strictly on adrenaline… and coffee.

I spotted my front row parking spot in front of the hospital as I pulled in. Confused as to what instinct persuaded me to do it (probably the coffee), I pressed the gas pedal all the way down, until the location of my space was directly to the right of my vehicle. Something tells me I would have kept going, but my heart rate must have slowed down a few beats, since I was suddenly capable of noticing my good judgment. With not a millisecond to waste, I slammed on my breaks ’til my car came to a screeching halt in the midriff of the parking lot. ‘What in the world was going on with me today?’ I questioned my own self. I must be so irritated with the constant failure of test after test every month, a combination of caffeine and self-developed euphoria must have just about triggered a complete meltdown. Regardless, I finally listened to that little voice in the back of my head informing me of my reckless demeanor, and gained control of my actions. I conducted a wide U-turn, and gradually parked my super-expensive-I’m-so-ecstatic-I-did-not-strike-the-brick-wall-in-front-of-me-with-it-car precisely within the two painted parallel white lines on the street.

Only a couple moments following my maniac maneuvers did Vince pull up into the parking space adjacent to mine.

Feeling immense disappointment from not being able to get a leg up on Vince and mine’s competitive mindset, I attempted to mask my vexed mood as I stepped out of my vehicle, and approached my husband.

“Well well well, guess someone didn’t get here as early as early as they anticipated, did they?” Vince teased me.

My newfound anger from such a petty blow seemed preposterous, so I made sure Vince wouldn’t gain the knowledge of it.

“Not exactly. But hey, I feel totally unfazed by it.”

“Uh huh, sure you aren’t,” Vince replied, unconvinced by my false carelessness.

“No seriously, I’m not! I would much rather start this project with your accompaniment. Besides, who’s going to help me deal with Mr. Cranky-Crazy Pants when he starts acting cranky… or crazy.”

“Alright, whatever makes you feel better.”

Vince’s complete immunity to my immensely expanded and detailed fibs made me realize for only obtaining five years of marriage to me under his belt, he understood my body language and true thoughts far too well. Personally, I believe his capability of being so observant is extraordinary, and most definitely attractive in my eyes. Accordingly, instead of feeling upset from his punctuality and jittery from the espresso, my mood altered itself as I grabbed the hand of my husband and took and joyful stroll into work.

We made our arrival towards reception when I noticed Vince grumble and moan as if something suddenly angered him.

“You doing alright, honey?” I asked, curious.

“Sure,” he answered to me with the least bit of security with his response.

“Oh come on, we are a married couple! I can easily tell when you’re bluffing.”

He lowered his walking pace to a complete stop and pulled me into a supply closet nearby, turning the lock on the rusting door knob after he closed it.

His odd behavior left me uneasy, considering I thought I was the bipolar one in our almost perfect relationship.

“What has gotten into you all of a sudden?” I questioned.

“I wouldn’t say ‘into,’ but someone has surely been getting under my skin lately!”

“Well then tell me who it is!! Out of all the people in the world you could go to for advice on any current dilemma in your life, inevitably you understand you can come to me, right?”

“Of course I can’t, you’re my wife!”

The moment those little words slipped from his sarcastic mouth, they triggered an all-out frenzy of fury.

“SERIOUSLY, VINCENT JENSEN DOHR?! I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE YOU WOULD STATE SUCH A TERRIBLE THING! AFTER ALL THE ANNIVERSARY GIFTS AND VALENTINE’S SURPRISES I GOT FOR YOU YET YOU SKIPPED OUT ON BECAUSE YOU DEEMED THEM AS “UNNECESSARY SPLURGES OF MONEY.”

“Calm yourself, babe, I was only joking around!”

“No time for jokes, it’s time for some answers! Talk to me!!”

I take back what I previously stated, for my statement was accurate the first time. I am, in fact, the bipolar one.

“Okay, but do not, under any circumstances, go on one of your rampage rages again, got it?”

I relaxed myself for the time being.

“Got it. Now, who keeps bothering you?”

“You know that new receptionist who works here?”

“Hayley Ross? She’s not new. If she was, I probably wouldn’t be as irritated as I currently am with the fake and perky persona she tries to portray on a daily basis.”

“Well, new-ish. She hasn’t even worked here a year yet.”

“Yeah, only seven months- hold on a second, how are you aware it’s been less than a year since she began working here?”

“She told me. I don’t know what it is with that woman, but every single time I come here to take you out to lunch, or assist you and the rest of Urie’s medical team with examinations and objectives in relation to that, she feels it necessary to talk, or better yet, ’flirt’ with me.”

Just then, I grew incredibly tense and somewhat baffled with what I recently heard. “… Huh??”

“I think you heard me correctly when I mentioned ’flirt’. You simply do not wish to believe it, do you?”

My voice felt shaky as I attempted to contain the continuously-unpredictable anger always within me.

“Nnnnooo, no. I… mean… how, dare, she… WHAAAAT?”

Despite how much I previously resented Hayley and how much more I currently resented her, I secretly didn’t have any purpose to blame her for such actions. After all, Vince is sophisticated and handsome, yet still retains a sincere and humorous attitude towards everything. On the contrary, do I consider bubble-brain’s decision to hit on my husband day after day ‘right’? Actually, I would consider it to be the exact opposite. Therefore, either now or sometime in the near future, the girl must pay.