Page 46 of Stuck with Doctor Grump

I looked out across the dark water for a second, collecting pieces of the truth I’d buried for years. “I spent a decade saving lives and losing pieces of myself in the process. In that world, everything is precise. Controlled. Clinical. And then you came in with your glitter and chaos and too many questions, and suddenly, I wanted things I didn’t think I deserved.”

Ruby’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak.

“You terrify me,” I said, my voice breaking. “Because you make me want to stay. And I don’t know how to stay without screwing it up.”

Her chin lifted. “I don’t need perfect, Damien. I never did. I just needed honest. And tonight... you were a wall.”

I nodded, taking it in like a scalpel to the ribs. Deserved.

“I know. And I’m sorry,” I said. “For not answering you. For hesitating when I should’ve told you what I’ve been feeling since the second you made fun of my clipboard.”

That earned the tiniest hitch of a laugh from her.

“I love you,” I said, no hesitation this time. “You infuriate me. You dazzle me. You make me want to live a life outside of patient charts and sterile rooms. You make me want a future that doesn’t require credentials or exit strategies.”

The wind shifted, catching the edge of her hair, brushing it across her face. I reached out and gently tucked it behind her ear, my fingers grazing her cheek.

“I love you,” I repeated, softer. “And if you’ll let me, I want to try. Not as some perfect version of myself. Just as a man who’s trying to be brave for the first time in years.”

For a long moment, she didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stood there, watching me like she was trying to decide if I was real.

Then she said, “You waited until I was in a ball gown by a muddy river to say all that?”

A breath escaped me—half laugh, half groan. “I’ve never had great timing.”

“No,” she said, her lips twitching, “you haven’t.”

And then, finally, she stepped forward. Closed the gap. Rested her hands on my chest like she needed to feel my heartbeat before believing a word I said.

“But you’re here now,” she whispered.

“I am,” I said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The river kept whispering behind us, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t listening for an escape. I was rooted right here—with her.

And that terrified me.

But more than that?

It made me feel alive.

Ruby and I stood by the river like the world had cracked open and only we could hear the truth tumbling out. Her fingers were still resting against my chest, grounding me more than I wanted to admit. Maybe more than I could survive if she let go.

So, I didn’t let the silence settle. Not this time.

“There’s more,” I said quietly.

She tilted her head, the moonlight brushing against her cheekbones, softening every line of hesitation on her face. “I’m listening.”

I stepped back just enough to breathe, and it all started to unravel.

“When I was six, a cardiologist came to my school. Gave a little talk about the heart and passed around a plastic model. I took it apart and reassembled it perfectly before he even finished his sentence.”

Ruby’s lips parted in surprise.

“By nine, I was shadowing in the hospital where my mom worked. By thirteen, I could recite surgical protocols better than some residents. Everyone called me a prodigy.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. “That sounds like a lot for a kid.”

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