Page 100 of Doctor Hot Mess

I never thought I’d be the kind of person who celebrated St. Patrick’s Day with a home-cooked meal and cheesy green decorations, but here I am, barefoot in our kitchen, stirring a pot of potatoes while Jonah sets the table.

“Do you think the baby will like Irish food?” Jonah teases, glancing over his shoulder as he places a plate down with precision. “Or will he rebel and demand chicken nuggets?”

I grin, resting a hand on my round belly. “He’s already doing somersaults in there, so maybe he’s protesting your cooking skills.”

Jonah feigns offense, one hand dramatically over his heart. “You wound me, Harper. That roast I made last week was practically Michelin-starred.”

“It was overcooked,” I counter playfully, and he steps closer, sliding his arms around me from behind.

“Maybe. But this,” he murmurs, placing a warm hand over mine on my stomach, “is my best recipe yet.”

The way he looks at me brings back memories of those months in Hawaii, a chapter that feels like an extended honeymoon.

It wasn’t what either of us would have chosen at first—me halfway across the Pacific, him juggling insane hours to be with me—but in hindsight, it was perfect.

I got to live my dream job, and every month, we had ten uninterrupted days together to swoon over each other, walk on sandy beaches, and make love like the world didn’t exist. It was paradise in every sense of the word and the foundation for everything we’ve built since.

Now, standing here in our home in Birmingham, I see how far we’ve come and how lucky we are.

A year ago, I couldn’t have imagined standing here, building a life with Jonah. We were barely figuring things out when I left for Hawaii.

The long distance was grueling—watching him leave every time felt like a dagger to my heart. But we made it work.

Jonah adjusted his schedule, working insane hours to bank 10-day stretches off each month. He spent eight glorious weeks with me over six months, and while it wasn’t perfect, it was enough. We spent our days exploring beaches, hiking trails, and eating more poke than I thought humanly possible.

Toward the end of my assignment, UAB posted an opening for an ER nurse in their trauma department. Another dream job. Only this time, I would get to work beside my dream man.

Jonah, of course, encouraged me to go for it, even though I was nervous about being back in Birmingham full-time.

“It’s not about where you work, Harper,” he’d said. “It’s about where we are. And I’ll go anywhere if it means we can be together.”

I applied, got the job, and moved back in October. By then, Jonah and I knew what we had was worth building.

We’re different, sure—Jonah’s the charming, ridiculously handsome surgeon who thrives on control and precision at work, even if his personal life can be a bit of a hot mess. I’m the pragmatic, self-assured nurse who isn’t afraid to shake things up and chase what I want, even if it means stepping into the unknown. But together, we balance each other. He grounds me when I’m restless, and I remind him that it’s okay to let go and trust.

Lila finished her six-week rehab program and has been thriving ever since. She attends a close-knit Gamblers Anonymous group in Savannah, where she’s found a sense of community and accountability.

Every week, she shares her story with others, using her experience to help newcomers feel less alone. The group has become a second family to her, a reminder that she’s not alone or defined by her past mistakes but by the choices she makes now.

Her confidence has grown, and though she jokes about working the rest of her life to pay off her debt, she’s found joy in running a youth sports program at a local community center. It’s a perfect fit for her energy and charisma, giving her a way to channel her talents into something meaningful.

Watching the kids light up on the field reminds her that she’s building a life she can be proud of—one step at a time.

Her charges were dropped after she cooperated with authorities and turned over everything she knew about Joey and Mark. Her testimony led to their convictions—armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, conspiracy to commit a felony, and possession of stolen goods, among other charges. They’re both serving sentences of twenty to life.

Jonah’s been softer with his parents, too. I think the baby’s impending arrival has something to do with it. Forgiveness is complicated, but he’s making an effort to match their newfound desire to atone for their mistakes as parents, and I’m proud of him.

“I think it’s official,” I say, glancing at him with a teasing grin.

“What’s official?” Jonah asks, arching a brow as he leans back, his fingers grazing mine.

“The name. He’s definitely a Dell.” My smile grows, and I feel a little flutter from the baby, as if he’s agreeing.

Jonah chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you can already tell.”

I shrug, letting my fingers linger over the curve of my stomach. “A mom just knows. He’s got this calm energy. Strong and steady. And honestly? I see it in you, Jonah. It feels right.”

His expression softens, and for a moment, he’s quiet, his gaze fixed on the glass in his hand. “Dell was like that,” he says finally, his voice warm. “Steady, dependable. Always the first to volunteer when something needed doing. And he had this way of making you feel like the world wasn’t so overwhelming, even when it was. Like no matter what, you weren’t in it alone.”

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