Page 32 of Doctor Second Chance

I reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sleep okay?"

She nods, her finger still dancing across my skin. "Your tattoos... they're new."

"Got them after med school. Needed something to remind me I wasn't just a doctor."

Elle's lips quirk up. "They suit you."

I can't help but pull her closer, relishing the warmth of her body against mine. Last night floods back—her soft sighs, the way she arched into me, how perfectly we fit together after all these years.

What are we doing? She lives in Florida, and I’m here with Opie. We both have careers and lives we’ve built separately. It wouldn’t be so easy for either of us to pick up and move.

"Elle, about last night—" I start, but she cuts me off with a kiss.

"Let's not overthink it," she murmurs against my lips.

I want to agree, to lose myself in her again. But the responsible part of me, the part that's a father and a surgeon, knows we need to talk.

"We should probably?—"

A loud crash from downstairs interrupts us. Opie's voice rings out, "Daddy! I dropped the cereal!"

Reality crashes back. I'm not just Shep anymore. I'm Dr. Duncan, a father, and I have responsibilities.

Elle's already pulling away, reaching for her clothes. "You should go," she says softly. “I’ll get dressed and be down shortly.”

I nod, grabbing my robe. What in the fuck was I thinking having her stay here. I had to know I was inviting trouble. With a history, it was almost a given we would go down that road left to our own devices. Now, I’m not sure we can unopen that can of worms.

7:58 am

I strum my fingers on the grab bar above the door, frustration boiling over as I navigate the morning traffic. With my right hand, I grip the steering wheel tighter, Elle's intoxicating scent still lingering in my car like a ghost.

I just left her at her friend’s to pick up her car. It’s been parked there since the ambulance brought her to the hospital. Watching her get out of the vehicle, the awkward goodbye... It has me all turned around.

Her familiar smell is a bittersweet reminder of the whirlwind past few days, each moment with her etched into my memory. The faint trace of her perfume mixed with something uniquely Elle floods my senses, transporting me back to the minute glances and nervous laughter leading up to last night’s tour de force.

To the naked eye, these seemingly insignificant moments could be written off. But taken as a whole, there would be no doubt we would end up in bed together. And, goddamn, it was hot.

I can't shake the feeling that everything has changed, yet nothing has been resolved. Her essence taunts me, a constant reminder of what I've lost and what I desperately want to reclaim. But it is also a tease because we are kidding ourselves if we think this can be anything once she returns to Florida. It just isn’t realistic.

My mind is a battlefield. Part of me wants to explore what’s rekindling between us. The way she looked at me this morning, how perfectly we fit together—it feels like no time has passed. But the rational part of my brain screams, “Run.” We live in different states, have separate lives, and have different responsibilities and obligations.

I pull into the hospital parking lot, grateful for a quieter clinic day. But downtime means more opportunities for my thoughts to run wild. I can't shake the memory of Elle's touch, her laugh.

Godammit. What is happening to me?

Sighing, I reach for my phone. Still no word from Ari. Two days without picking up Opie or even calling. It's not like her at all. Opie's starting to ask questions, and I'm running out of excuses.

I dial her number again, listening to it ring endlessly before going to voicemail. "Ari, it's Shep. Again. Look, I'm getting worried. Just... call me back, okay? Opie's asking for you."

I toss the phone onto the passenger seat, feeling the weight of everything crashing down. Elle, Ari, Opie, the trifecta—it's all swirling into a perfect storm of complications. How did everything get so messy so fast?

Walking into the hospital, I try to push it all aside. I've got patients to focus on. But Elle's face keeps flashing in my mind, and I can't shake the feeling that I'm standing at a crossroads.

2:21 pm

I'm heading down the hall toward the waiting area when I spot her. My breath catches in my throat as I instinctively step back, concealing myself behind a pillar. She's here for therapy, I assume, but in this moment, she looks like she belongs on a runway.

Elle moves with an effortless grace that captivates me. Her chestnut hair cascades over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the fluorescent light as she turns her head.

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