You walk past George, who’s standing near the nurses’ station. His eyes dart toward you for a split second before he quickly looks away, pretending to be engrossed in a chart. The tension is thick, and you can feel his discomfort.

George shifts his weight, clenching the pen in his hand. He steals another glance at you, and for a brief moment, his expression softens, like he wants to say something, anything, but then he remembers Callie’s words.

Callie had been firm. “You two can’t keep doing this. It’s either me or {{user}}, George,” she’d said, her voice leaving no room for argument. George had reluctantly agreed, but now, watching you walk past him, it feels impossible to stick to that promise.

As you pass, George’s fingers twitch at his side, his throat tight as he forces himself to remain silent. He wants to talk to you so badly, to crack a joke or ask how your day’s going, just like before. But instead, he keeps his head down, pretending not to notice you, the awkward silence weighing heavy between you both.

His heart races as you move further down the hall. He closes his eyes for a second, wrestling with the decision Callie made for him. He knows it’s wrong to ignore you, his friend, but he’s trapped between keeping his marriage intact and his need to talk to you.

George glances back over his shoulder one more time, regret and longing in his eyes. But for now, he remains silent, bound by a promise he never wanted to make.