Page 53 of Stuck with Doctor Grump

That was the thing about Ruby—she knew how to make space for words without demanding them.

After a few beats, I reached out and gently tugged her hand. She blinked, surprised, as I pulled her down into my lap.

Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, instinctive and warm.

I rested my forehead against hers.

“I haven’t said yes,” I murmured.

She hesitated, then whispered, “You haven’t said no either.”

I closed my eyes.

Silence stretched between us, not uncomfortable, but weighted.

“I’d be working with the best,” I said quietly. “Leading a team. Saving lives in ways I used to only dream about. They’re offering flexibility—remote options. It wouldn’t be like before.”

“But it wouldn’t be this either,” she said, her voice barely a breath.

I nodded. “No. It wouldn’t be Cedar Springs. Wouldn’t be this porch. Wouldn’t be your sketchbook next to my medical journals.”

Her fingers moved slowly through the back of my hair. “You’ve spent your whole life saving people, Damien. Maybe now it’s okay to choose a life that saves you, too.”

I looked at her, heart in my throat.

“I don’t know how to stop being the guy who runs toward pressure. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

She tilted her head. “Maybe you don’t have to stop. Maybe you just need to learn that there’s strength in stillness too.”

I breathed in deeply, the scent of her shampoo grounding me.

“I used to think the only way I mattered was in an OR. That if I wasn’t breaking records or getting published, I didn’t deserve peace.”

“And now?”

“Now…” I swallowed hard. “Now I’m wondering if peace is what I’ve been trying to earn this whole time.”

Ruby’s expression softened.

“I can’t make this choice for you,” she said gently. “But I need to know you’re not running because you’re scared to stay.”

I kissed her temple, slow and certain. “I’m not scared of staying.”

Her lips twitched. “Then what are you scared of?”

I exhaled slowly. “Of being enough outside of the hospital. Of not having the title or the validation. Just… being a man who loves a woman and wants to build a life full of plants and porch swings.”

She leaned her head on my shoulder. “That sounds like a pretty great life to me.”

I held her tighter, heart warring between the echoes of who I’d been and the pull of who I was becoming.

Eventually, we just sat there, the letter folded on the swing beside us, untouched like a ghost of a life I wasn’t sure I wanted anymore.

The sun crept higher, painting gold across the water.

And for the first time in a very long time, I didn’t feel like I had to fix anything.

I just had to choose.

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