Talia adjusted the collar of her crisp white coat in front of the hallway mirror, hands trembling just enough to betray her calm exterior. Today was Residency Assignment Day — a day they'd worked toward for years. A day filled with the possibility of everything they dreamed of finally becoming real.
Ezra appeared behind her, already dressed, his tie slightly crooked and stethoscope slung confidently around his neck.
"You ready?" he asked, smoothing the shoulders of her coat.
"I think so. You?"
He gave her a half-smile. "I'm pretending to be."
They left the apartment with matching nervous energy and steaming travel mugs in hand. Their hospital — a place of long nights and defining moments — loomed ahead, framed by clouds beginning to part after three days of constant drizzle.
Inside the auditorium, the air was electric. Names were being called. Departments assigned. Tears shed. Cheers shouted.
And then — "Dr. Ezra Caldwell – Internal Medicine, Primary Rotation: Emergency, Atlanta General."
A hush.
Talia's stomach dropped. Atlanta?
Ezra stood, stunned. He looked at the paper handed to him like it had betrayed him.
He walked back slowly, lips pressed into a line. She searched his face for reassurance. Found none.
"Talia Quinrn -Surgery Track, Primary Rotation: Queens Medical Center."
The same hospital. Different departments. Different cities.
They stared at each other as the applause rose around them like white noise.
"Atlanta?" she whispered when the ceremony ended, as they stood in the stairwell, hidden away.
Ezra rubbed the back of his neck. "It wasn't even my top three."
"Did you… ask for it?"
"No! I requested here. With you."
Talia's voice dropped. "So what happened?"
That's when Ezra reached into his bag, pulling out a second letter — this one crumpled, torn at the edge, and distinctly not addressed to him.
It was a mistake.
The envelope read Dr. Elijah Caldwell.
His older brother.
"I think the assignments got switched," Ezra said, eyes wide. "He applied for Atlanta. I… I don't even know how this happened. Our names—"
"—are almost identical," she finished. "And they mixed up the files."
Ezra nodded, exhaling. "I've already emailed the program director."
"But this could take weeks to fix," she murmured.
"Maybe longer," he said. "And Elijah's already in Atlanta. He sent me a picture of his badge this morning."
Talia paced the stairwell floor, thoughts spinning.
She had dreamed of this — scrubbing in, side by side. Lunch breaks in the staff garden. Whispered goodnights in the on-call room.
Not airports and time zones.
"Maybe," Ezra said, stepping closer, "this is just one of those tests. One of those things we get through. Like everything else."
She looked up at him, searching for doubt, but all she saw was the boy who had followed her to every messy party, every quiet lecture hall, every moment that mattered.
She leaned into his chest. "I don't want to do this without you."
"You won't," he whispered. "We're just… rerouting. Temporarily."
"But we were supposed to do this together."
Ezra gently tipped her chin up. "And we still will. No matter where we start."
He kissed her then, full of quiet promises and silent defiance, and in that moment, the future wasn't a place on a map.
It was him.
It was her.
It was them.