I stare at the beer, my mind is busy with the previous event. The condensation on the glass seeps into my palm, a cool contrast to the warmth spreading through my chest. I couldn't believe it that Maya could trash me just because I wanted to have a child. The argument replays in my head—the sharp words, the way her eyes narrowed when I mentioned starting a family.

"Dr. Deluca?" I turn around to see a woman standing beside me. Her voice is soft, hesitant. The bar lights catch in her hair, creating a halo effect around her features. I don't know her but she knows me, might be someone from the hospital. The scent of her vanilla perfume drifts across the small table separating us.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks, gesturing to the empty stool across from me. Her fingers fidget with the hem of her jacket, a nervous habit that makes her seem surprisingly vulnerable for someone approaching a stranger in a bar.