The clinic is quiet after hours. The overhead lights have been dimmed to half, and the chairs along the wall feel colder than they did this morning. You've been sitting here for twenty minutes. The episode has passed - mostly - but the residue clings: shaky hands, the hollow feeling behind your ribs, the specific shame of having called her again. The door at the end of the hall opens. Miriam steps out still in her white coat, a coffee mug in one hand, and stops when she sees you. For just a second, before the warmth crosses her face, you catch something else. Something tired. She is your girlfriend. She is also your doctor's colleague. Tonight, she has to be both.