The first and second trimesters of Megyn's final year were behind her. They had been a whirlwind of intensive reading, endless classes, laboratory practicals, and hospital rotations at the university teaching hospital.
Megyn had never experienced a study year like this one. Her entire world had shrunk to revolve around textbooks and hospital corridors. She even dreamt of clinical cases and medical procedures.
There were the relentless continuous assessment tests, the logbooks that demanded meticulous documentation, and the lab reports due after every session. The pressure was brutal—palpable in the air—and Megyn barely had time to catch her breath.
She remembered one evening during the second trimester while preparing for yet another continuous assessment test. Her phone rang. It was Benjamin.
"Princess, I don't know why you're torturing yourself," he said. "You're already brilliant. You've got this."
"What do you want me to do, Benj?" she replied, weariness in her voice.
Benjamin understood how grueling final year in medical school could be—inhuman, even. His voice softened with empathy. "Hey, Gazelle, you sound dead."
"Because I am," she muttered, her voice flat and exhausted.
He chuckled. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. You're putting that book down."
Megyn protested weakly. "Benj-"
"No. I'm serious. Take five minutes. Walk outside. Breathe."
Reluctantly, she obeyed. She stood up, stepped outside into the cool evening air, and for the first time in days, she felt her shoulders relax. Maybe she needed this.
Maybe she needed him.
Benjamin, who was representing his company abroad at the time, received her simple text, "Done."
He responded with a smiling emoji.
Now, in her final trimester, as end-of-year examinations loomed, the pressure had doubled. Tension saturated the air like humidity before a storm, and Megyn was on the verge of breaking. Her days were spent buried in books from dawn until midnight.
It was during one of these overwhelmed moments that she decided to call home. She had intended to speak to her siblings, and it was Amanda who picked up—ecstatic to hear from her.
Megyn!" Amanda squealed with joy. "Everyone will be so happy to hear from you!"
After some warm pleasantries, Megyn asked to speak to Mex and Mellissa.
Mex came on the line.
"Hello, baby boy," Megyn greeted him with a smile, anticipating the usual playful argument. Mex believed he was too grown up to be called a baby.
"Imagine! Benjamin brought me a watch just like his, and we played football!"
"Oh yeah?" Megyn was genuinely surprised. Benjamin had never mentioned that visit.
"I love my big brother so much. He said he'll fly me to the city someday!" Mex's loud laughter through the phone filled Megyn with warmth and melted some of her tension.
"Megyn, do you know he's Dad's firstborn?" Mex asked seriously.
"No? Tell me why you think that."
"Because Dad calls him his son. So that means I'm his brother, and you're his sister."
Megyn chuckled, her heart full. "I'm really happy for you, little brother. And I'm happy for me too—for gaining a brother."
"And Aunty Doctor visits me too! She brings me toys."
Megyn was touched. She hadn't realized the depth of relationships forming around her.
Once, the relationship between her father and Benjamin had been tense. Yet somehow, Benjamin had quietly bridged the gap, as he always did—with grace and intentional kindness.
She believed Dr. Lucia had also become close to her mother, and that was true. The two visited each other often, and Benjamin, now affectionately known as the "Flying Doctor," frequently ended up at Randi County Hospital with patients.
"You're a lucky little brother," she told Mex. "Everyone loves you. And I love you too."
Mellissa was equally excited to speak with her big sister. She bubbled with joy about joining City Girls High School soon and felt reassured knowing Megyn was already in the city.
"I'm not scared," she said confidently. "Because you're already in the city. I feel safe."
That reassurance filled Megyn with a sense of purpose. She was more than a student—she was a role model. A big sister. A guidepost.
After the animated conversation, Megyn felt lighter. She returned to her books, though the sense of urgency hadn't faded. The weight of her academic load hadn't changed, but her spirit felt lighter.
Time always seemed to slip away, and no amount of preparation ever felt sufficient.
Benjamin, ever in tune with her world, understood the intensity of her final trimester. He too was studying—for his master's exams, and at the same time assisting his father to manage the group of companies. He was also a practising doctor in Sunset hospital. Even with all these, he spent most Saturdays with her.
Megyn often wondered how he managed to multitask all these. Many people think that men can't multitask, and only women can. But Benjamin, according to her had proved them wrong.
She even loved him more.
After deciding not to pursue further studies abroad, he had enrolled in a master's program in medicine and surgery locally. His final objective was to become one of the best surgeons in the country.
Meanwhile, Cindy had thrown herself into her studies with similar intensity. Though Dr. Evans continued to show interest in her, Cindy had firmly convinced herself that she was done with men—at least for now.
The trimester was so packed with assignments and lab reports that she and Megyn barely saw each other. Her focus was singular: to graduate with strong grades.
One evening, after a long day in the lab, Cindy burst into Megyn's room holding a wedding invitation.
"Terry weds Jerry."
"What an insult?" Megyn said aloud, startled.
"Ignore it, my friend," Cindy replied calmly. Then, with defiant precision, she tore the invitation into tiny pieces, tossed them into the paper basket, and promptly emptied the contents into the bin outside the hostel. When she returned, she was beaming.
"Good riddance!" she declared with a deep breath.
Cindy's joy was infectious—her old spark had returned.
"Megyn, I'm ready to date again," she announced. "But this time, I'll be wiser. More mature. Like you."
Megyn smiled. "Yes, and remember, anyone who isn't patient with you doesn't deserve you."
The two friends sat in silence for a while, breathing in the rare peace of that moment.
Exams still loomed. Deadlines hadn't vanished. But something had shifted.
They weren't just surviving—they were growing.