Match Day was loud.
Louder than any of them expected. The air in the hall felt like it had been holding its breath for hours, waiting for noon. Laughter, anxiety, the buzz of dozens of lives about to change — it all swirled around Talia like a hurricane.
She stood near the back of the crowd, clutching the white envelope in her shaking hands. The one that would decide where she was going for residency. Where she'd be for the next three, maybe five years.
Where she'd be without Ezra.
He was somewhere across the room, still hidden behind a sea of classmates, friends, and wide-eyed families. They'd agreed to open their envelopes separately — not out of superstition, but self-preservation.
"I want your answer to be yours," Ezra had said.
"And I want yours to be free," Talia had replied.
It had felt brave at the time.
Now it just felt like her heart was sitting in her throat.
The clock struck noon.
The room exploded into cheers and rustling paper. Cries of joy. A few tears. People hugged, kissed, jumped up and down like their whole world had just been rewritten.
Talia stared at her envelope.
It felt heavier than paper should.
She slid a trembling finger under the flap and pulled the letter free.
Massachusetts General Hospital — Internal Medicine.
Boston.
She blinked, reading it twice. Three times.
Still Boston.
Her breath came out shaky — a mix of relief and panic. She'd ranked MGH high. She loved the city. The hospital. The possibilities.
But...
Ezra.
She turned, eyes scanning the crowd.
And then she saw him.
Standing near the podium, envelope dangling from his fingers. Frozen.
She walked over slowly, heart thudding.
Ezra looked up as she approached.
"I matched," he said quietly.
"Me too," she whispered.
A beat passed. Another.
"Where?" they both asked at the same time.
Ezra swallowed.
"Boston," he said.
Talia's eyes widened.
"MGH," she breathed.
Ezra nodded.
Her hands flew to her mouth, and for a moment neither of them moved — as if the universe itself had stopped to make sure they understood.
"We… matched," Talia said again, a little stunned.
"In the same city," Ezra confirmed.
"In the same hospital," she laughed, a sound half-hysterical and entirely euphoric.
And then they were kissing — in the middle of the chaos, amid the confetti and the shrieks and the camera flashes. Kissing like they'd been holding their breath for months and only now remembered how to breathe.
They spent the rest of the day in a haze.
Ezra's hand never left hers. They drifted from one celebration to the next, called their families, toasted with cheap champagne, and at some point ended up back in their apartment, coats tossed over chairs, cheeks flushed from joy.
Sitting on the kitchen counter, Talia looked at him and smiled.
"So," she said. "Roommates for a few more years?"
Ezra grinned and walked over, standing between her knees.
"Only if you sign a long-term lease."
"Define long-term."
"Forever?"
Talia rolled her eyes, but her smile softened.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, future doctor."
Ezra leaned in, brushing her nose with his.
"I've been ahead of myself since the moment I met you in that lecture hall."
That night, they lay in bed side by side, staring at the ceiling, hands laced together over the covers.
"You ever think about how this started?" Talia whispered.
Ezra chuckled. "You mean when you called me 'library boy' and avoided me for a week?"
"I mean how I wasn't supposed to fall for you."
"You did."
"And you weren't supposed to ghost me."
"I did."
"But we made it anyway."
He turned to her, eyes full of the kind of quiet that only comes after storms.
"We made it," he said.
Talia leaned over and kissed his shoulder.
"Now let's see what comes next."