Page 25 of The Surgeon's Secret

Lexi moved to the waistband of Catherine’s pajama pants, and in a few smooth motions, Catherine stepped out of them, fully nude in front of Lexi. Catherine didn’t feel awkward—not for a single second. She couldn’t imagine feeling this comfortable with anyone else.

Lexi extended her hand again, helping Catherine step into the tub. The warm, bubbly water enveloped her, and as she sank down, she felt her troubles start to melt away.

“This is nice. So, so nice. Thank you for taking care of me,” Catherine whispered.

Their hands remained connected, the warmth of Lexi’s touch spreading a comfort that Catherine could feel through the water. Lexi knelt beside the tub, picked up a sponge, and poured shower cream onto it. She gestured to the sponge.

“May I?” Lexi asked.

Catherine nodded.

Lexi moved with tender care as she ran the sponge down Catherine’s leg, over her foot, and between her toes. Each motion was slow and deliberate, a gentle reassurance in every stroke. When the sponge moved to Catherine’s chest, her nipples stiffened involuntarily. Despite everything, her body still responded to Lexi’s touch, but Lexi kept her movements respectful and tender. She washed Catherine with no other intentions, her care purely about comfort.

Even when the sponge moved between Catherine’s legs and a small flicker of pleasure sparked through her, Lexi’s focus remained on cleaning her. Once the washing was done, Lexi rinsed the soap away, leaving Catherine’s skin clean and warm. Then she sat on the floor beside the tub, her presence grounding Catherine.

“How are you feeling?” Lexi asked, her voice soft but steady.

“I feel safe with you,” Catherine replied.

“Did he hurt you?” Lexi’s question came hesitantly, her voice carrying both concern and restrained anger.

“Not physically,” Catherine admitted. The weight of her words hung between them, unspoken pain filling the air.

Lexi traced slow circles on the palm of Catherine’s hand with her thumb, her touch as steady as her resolve.

“I won’t let him hurt you anymore,” Lexi promised.

“I don’t want to go back,” Catherine said, her voice breaking slightly.

“You don’t have to,” Lexi replied. “I promise you—you don’t have to. I’ve got you now, baby.”

Lexi’s hand cupped Catherine’s face, her thumb brushing softly against her cheek. Catherine met her gaze, the piercing blue of Lexi’s eyes holding her steady. Then Lexi finally closed the distance between them.

Their lips met in a kiss, soft at first, then growing more insistent. Catherine could feel every ounce of Lexi’s promise in that kiss—her strength, her care, and the depth of her feelings. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Lexi meant every word.

13

LEXI

Lexi woke up to the soft weight of Catherine’s body draped over her. In the dim morning light filtering through the blinds, she could make out the curve of Catherine’s shoulder and strands of dark hair fanned out against the pillow. For a moment, there was peace, and a warmth she hadn’t realized she was missing.

Then reality settled in.

With a quiet sigh, Lexi shifted carefully, extracting herself from Catherine’s embrace. She sat up on the edge of the bed and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. Her body ached, not from exhaustion, but from the constant strain of balancing everything—this affair, the tension at work, the fragile line she was walking between what she wanted and what she knew she shouldn’t have.

Catherine stirred behind her but didn’t wake.

Lexi reached for the hoodie draped over the chair nearby and slipped it on before padding barefoot into the kitchen. The air in her apartment was cool, carrying the faint scent of coffee from the day before. She’d stopped making fresh pots in the mornings, opting instead to grab something from the hospitalcafé on her way in, but ever since Catherine had moved in she’d started making coffee in the mornings again. It was just one of the ways her routine had shifted to accommodate Catherine’s presence.

Not that she minded. Not entirely. Having Catherine here, waking up beside her, feeling that stolen intimacy outside of the hospital walls—it was intoxicating. But it was also a weight, one that grew heavier by the day.

She leaned against the counter, arms crossed as she stared out the dark window above the sink. She was stretched thin. Catherine was here because she didn’t want to go home and face James. But Lexi had never signed up to be someone’s escape. And yet, hadn’t she done just that? She’d gone to Catherine that night, pulled her out of the house she no longer felt safe in, and given her a place to land. It had been instinctual. She hadn’t even thought twice.

But now, in the stillness of the early morning, Lexi was thinking about it. About all of it. About the way she had to keep so many parts of herself compartmentalized—Catherine, Josephine, work. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it up without something breaking.

The sound of footsteps behind her made her tense, but she forced herself to relax as Catherine appeared in the doorway. She was wearing one of Lexi’s T-shirts, her hair still sleep-mussed, her expression soft with lingering drowsiness.

“You’re up early,” Catherine murmured, stepping closer.

---