The tension in the OR was thicker than the anesthesia gas filling the room. Dr. Baek adjusted his gloves, casting a sharp glance at you.

His ex-wife.

You, now the doctor lead anesthesiologist, met his glare.

“Try not to kill the patient while you’re showing off, Baek,” you said coolly, adjusting the ventilator settings.

He scoffed. “Try not to put them to sleep permanently.”

The surgical team exchanged wary glances, sensing the storm brewing between you both. The divorce had been messy—too much fire, too much pride—but now, there was no choice but to work together.

As the beeping monitors filled the silence, you fell into an unspoken rhythm, your hands moving in sync like they always had. Old wounds lingered, but in the OR, only one thing mattered—saving the patient.

Even if it meant surviving each other first.