Page 55 of Doctor Charmer

“You don’t have…” I don’t let her complete the thought.

“Where you go, I go. You’re protective of your kids. And I’m protective of you. If you continue to argue with me, I’ll toss you over my shoulder caveman style.”

She shrugs and unzips the duffel bag. “Where’s my sweat suit?” she asks, and I point to the dresser drawers.

“I sent them out for laundry when you went to meet with Angie at the hospital.” She crosses the room and pulls open the drawers. She had been living out of bags in the hospital the last few days, rushing back to the hotel to grab things, quickly changing in strange bathrooms.

“That was like two hours ago.” I hear the awe in her voice, and I forget how privileged a life I lead.

“It’s not like I washed the clothes by the river using rocks. We have one-hour dry cleaning in the lobby.”

She tugs the sweatshirt from the top of the pile, looking at it as if it’s part of a magic act.

“I know we talked about getting your stuff from the hotel. You had a lot going on, and I had nothing but time. I checked you out of the hotel and brought your stuff here.”

She slips on the sweatshirt, drops to the edge of my bed, and puts on the sweatpants. I match her, moving with urgency, slipping out of my dress outfit into jeans and a hoodie.

I walk over to the bed just as she’s tying her sneaker. “Ready?”

She hops to her feet, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Griffin is in good hands.” I fall back on the hospital mantra, and she presses her head into my chest, squeezing me tight.

“I know,” she says, tipping up and placing a quick ghost kiss on my lips. “These are tears of joy. For what you did with my clothes. For making me feel welcome. Wanted.” Her lower lip quivers, and I know she wants to say more, but we are running out of time. “For you.” She hesitates, an internal battle, but her protective nature is already pulling her toward caring for her kids. I tug her by her hand toward the door when she drops my hand, turning to rush back into the bedroom.

Leaning over, she blows out the candles. Another subtle reminder of who she is, coolheaded in the middle of chaos. That’s usually my role and this is another reminder of how far off kilter I’ve become. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.

She rushes back to me, hands back in mine, a quick kiss on my lips. “To be continued. All of this.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ivy

Chelsea lowers her head onto my shoulder, another tissue pressed to her nose as we sit in the waiting area outside the operating room. Reggie and I rushed here nearly ninety minutes ago. I found Chelsea alone in the waiting area, and Reggie joined the team in the OR.

“He had just kissed me, and then he fell over in pain.” Chelsea recounts the scary moment for the tenth time. “I thought he was joking at first. I wasted thirty seconds laughing at him before I knew it was real. Before I called the nurse. What if those thirty seconds make a difference?” She’s back in her rabbit hole. A bottomless, dark place we’ve all fallen into.

I stroke her hair, hoping to provide some level of comfort. “Remember, this is why they kept him these few days to monitor him. They said this was a possibility. And I think you being in the room with him, acting so quickly, helped. Besides, he has two of the best doctors in the building operating on him.”

She raises her head as if about to speak but stops. Her gaze shifts toward the movement, the doors from the restricted areaopening and Angie and Reggie approaching. I help Chelsea up from the chair and hand her the crutches. She adjusts them underneath her armpits, struggling to balance.

They approach us, stopping two feet in front. Reggie gives me a brilliant smile, but it’s Angie who speaks first. “Griffin is doing fine. We located the source of the bleeding, stopped it, and repaired the damage. He’ll be with us for a few additional days, but we’re expecting a full recovery.”

Chelsea drops one crutch and pulls Angie into a hug. A yip escapes from her with the surprise move, and Reggie steps around them, pulling me into a side hug. He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Everything’s going to be okay. We got you.”

“You always have,” I whisper back to him and look up at the look of pride on his handsome face.

“Can we see him?” Chelsea asks.

“Of course, in a few minutes. I’ll have the nurse come out and bring you in,” Angie replies.

Chelsea sniffles. “Good. That gives me time to run to the bathroom and fix my face. I don’t want him to know I was out here bawling like a baby.”

She spins on her heels, and I tap her elbow. “You want me to come with?” I think back to yesterday when Chelsea sat with me as I applied my makeup, looking to impress a boy.

“I think she can do it on her own,” Angie says, her arm on my shoulder with a gentle tug. A signal for me to stay put. There’s something she wants to tell me without Chelsea around.

“Dr. Carmichael is right. Go, I’ll be right here when you get back, and we’ll go see Griffin together.” Angie and I stand shoulder to shoulder, watching Chelsea bounce down the hall. Once she’s gone from view, I turn to face Angie. “Is Griffin going to be okay?”

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