Chapter 16 – Mary's Secret
With everyone's "combined efforts," Penny's furniture was finally finished.
The TV stand had mostly been assembled by Ethan and Penny, while the four science guys took charge of "spatial optimization" and "thermal management." In their shared worldview, "wasted space" ranked somewhere between moral failure and crimes against humanity.
So the speakers were mounted behind the flat-screen, the wiring was rerouted, extra cooling modules were added, and Sheldon even installed what he proudly called a "sound-wave reflection angle module."
At first Penny thought it was just an extra plank. After a twenty-minute lecture from Sheldon, she finally understood—she should never have asked.
"I gotta admit," Penny said, leaning back on the couch, surprised, "this place actually looks… really good. And the TV stand? Kinda awesome!"
"Of course," Ethan said, taking a sip of his drink. "It only cost me three full hours of my life."
Sheldon corrected him immediately. "You merely executed the instructions. Anyone with hands could do that. Spatial design is the soul of the project. That was our masterpiece."
Before Penny could argue, Leonard jumped in, excited. "Hey, now that the TV and speakers are set up, wanna test it? Three-on-three Halo! And this time Ethan won't be bored watching us!"
"I'm not bored at all," Ethan said with a smile. "But if Penny wants in, I'm game."
"If you need a player, I'm in!" Penny sat up instantly.
"Great idea!" Leonard clapped.
"No," Sheldon said flatly.
Everyone turned to him.
"The invention of the wheel was a good idea. Relativity was a good idea," Sheldon said, arms crossed. "Letting Penny compete—not a good idea."
"Why?" Penny raised a brow.
"Why? Oh, Penny, Penny, Penny."
"What, what, what?"
"Halo is a complex combat simulation. It demands mastery of dozens of weapons, vehicles, tactics, and an intricate lore system."
"Sounds cool to me."
While she and Sheldon bickered, Leonard and the others set up the console. Within minutes, everything was ready. They tested the speakers.
"Now that's surround sound," Howard said proudly. "Gunfire feels like bullets actually whizzing past your head."
Characters loaded in. Leonard gave Penny a quick crash course on the controls. She picked it up fast.
A flash of light on screen.
"Whose head did I just blow off?"
Sheldon's eyes widened. "Mine."
"I got this!" Penny shouted. "Bring it on, boys!"
Despite Sheldon's objections, teams were set: Leonard, Penny, and Ethan versus Sheldon, Howard, and Raj.
"Fair enough." Ethan commented.
"She lacks experience. You and Leonard will be dragged down," Sheldon insisted. "Not to mention she—"
Bang.
"Your head's off again!" Penny helpfully informed him.
"You can't just shoot someone the second they respawn! That violates the spirit of the game! You must allow a grace peri—"
The screen exploded again. Sheldon grabbed his controller in panic.
"Raj! Raj! She's got me pinned—cover me!"
"Cover your own head!" Penny yelled, pulling the trigger. "Eat this!"
Sheldon's character dissolved into light again.
He ripped off his headset in despair. "I've had enough! I don't know how she's doing this, but she must be cheating! There is no way a girl is this good at video games!" He turned to storm out.
"Wait, Sheldon, come back!" Penny called.
He hesitated and looked over his shoulder.
"You forgot something."
"What?"
"BOOM!
A grenade detonated right where Sheldon's character had just respawned. Instant fireball. Instant death.
Penny burst out laughing. "That plasma grenade. See? It's helping you put out the fire."
Sheldon stared at her, frowning. "Laugh while you can… I hope you develop carpal tunnel syndrome." Then he marched back to his apartment.
The door slammed. Penny's laughter still echoed in the room.
"Wow. He really can't lose, huh?"
Ethan set his controller down. "To be fair, he wouldn't be happy if he won either."
"I like this game. It's actually fun," Penny said, leaning back on the couch. "And hey—I beat a doctor."
"Nicely done," Ethan grinned. They high-fived again.
"Yeah, we make a pretty good team," Leonard said. "Maybe we should enter a Halo tournament."
"Or," Penny rolled her eyes, "we could just… live our lives."
"I guess for you, that's an option," Leonard said with an awkward smile.
---
Every great weekend ends with a miserable Monday.
Even if you're the "boss" of your own clinic.
The road is long, and today is Monday.
Ethan leaned back in his swivel chair, staring at the clock on the wall: 9:57 a.m.
Cloudy skies outside. Damp air. Fewer people on the street.
He held his forehead and gazed out the window, expression blank. Monday plus bad weather—full debuff stack.
The clinic was quiet. Too quiet.
"Guess people don't even want to get sick on a Monday," he muttered.
"You look tired. Bad weekend?"
Mary came in, holding two iced coffees.
"Thanks."
Ethan took one and gulped half of it. The cold shot down his throat, washing away a big chunk of the sluggishness.
"Okay, I'm alive again," he exhaled. "Not bad—just… eventful. How about you? You were here alone this weekend. Everything okay?"
Mary paused—just a fraction too long. "Yeah… mostly."
"Doesn't sound like 'mostly.'" Ethan watched her. "What happened?"
She hesitated, then gathered her courage. "I need to confess something."
"That sentence never leads to good news," Ethan said, leaning back. "Go on."
Mary bit her lip. "I performed a surgery. Without your approval."
Ethan's brows drew together instantly. "A surgery? Mary, you're not licensed for independent practice yet. Any invasive procedure requires my supervision."
"I know. But the clinic needs income." Her voice lowered. "It was… a special case. The patient signed a waiver, accepted full responsibility, so I…"
Ethan set his coffee down. His tone softened slightly. "What kind of surgery?"
Mary hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Just… a surgical repair. Technically cosmetic. Small incision, sutures. Local anesthesia."
"Cosmetic?" Ethan frowned. "Elective aesthetics?"
"You could say that." Her eyes flicked away.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by ice clinking in plastic.
"You know I hate 'you could say that' answers."
"I know." She inhaled slowly. "But I'm willing to take full responsibility. If anything goes wrong, it's on me."
Ethan studied her for a moment, something like worry in his gaze.
"Should I ask who the patient was? What exactly you did?"
"Better not," she said quietly, eyes down.
He rubbed his temples. "I'm guessing you didn't reattach a finger… and you didn't remove a bullet.
Let me guess—some kind of 'removal'… or 'alteration'?"
Mary didn't answer.
Ethan sighed. "Fine. As long as the clinic isn't in legal trouble, we'll leave it there. Next time, at least tell me first."
She nodded. "I transferred part of the fee to the clinic account. It'll show as surgical service income."
"How much?"
"Ten thousand dollars. I sent half to the clinic—like the first time we worked together." She spoke softly. "I just want you to know… I wasn't being reckless."
"Oh my God." Ethan stared at her. "That number makes me more worried, not less."
Mary pressed her lips together and said nothing.
A gust of wind rattled the clinic door. A dull thud echoed.
Ethan leaned back, staring out at the gray sky beyond the window.
He knew perfectly well—
whatever Mary had done, it wasn't "just cosmetic."
But for now, he let it go.