Page 70 of Resist Me Not
He is not expecting me. I left on Monday, and while we have talked every evening, I have been on assignment, working as quickly as possible to ensure I could return to mygood boyon Friday with flowers and a night out planned to cater to his every whim. After all, he deserves a redo for what happened on his birthday.
Trey: You’re done for the night?
Walker: Yep! I just have a few things to discuss with this new patient’s family and Dr. Aldrin, and I am getting as big and as greasy of a dinner as I can.
Good. Because that is exactly what I plan to treat him to.
Walker: I miss you.
The little addition makes me smile, and I peer around the corner from where I have been texting Walker. I watch him slip his phone into his pocket as said patient, a little girl, and who I assume is her mother, meet up with Walker and his mentor at the rheumatology ward’s main desk. They are clearly getting various tests and future visits scheduled but are in good spirits, whatever the girl’s condition may be. I know that part of their good spirits is because of Walker and his naturally kind and nurturing nature. How he drops to his knees to address the girl directly, not over her or ignoring her to only address the parent, endears them both even more to his bedside manner. Soon after,they quickly part ways with everyone beaming professional smiles.
It is a…warmfeeling that surges through me watching Walker at work, being the kind healer I know him to be. Warm and wonderful and still not at all fading, whether I am right here looking at Walker, or hundreds of miles away, unable to rid him from my mind.
He is my obsession. My fixation.Mygood boy. But not only for now. He is to be a lasting partner and presence in my life, because I meant it when I said I love him. I love him in every way I am capable of love, which means I am always,alwaysgoing to do everything in my power to keep him in my life.
And woe to anyone who tries to take him from me.
As I am about to make my presence known and step out from around the corner, a different young patient and parent storm out of a nearby room, a father dragging his very young daughter by the elbow, and a frantic and embarrassed mother who follows, carrying an even younger child.
Walker notices and tries to assuage the enraged father. I can’t make out what they discuss, what the issue might be, or which of the children is actually the patient. But the roughness the man is using, the complete disregard for the frailty of his child cools the warmth caused by Walker’s presence. I grip the stems of the roses in my hand too tightly, as I step around the corner, ready to act.
But I am not needed. Walker succeeds in calming the father, presumably fixing whatever had angered him, and swiftly ushers the family toward the elevators—which is when he looks over and sees me. His eyes dart after the family and back to me in quick succession. He is more observant than he gives himself credit or the darkness I am exuding is just that potent.
I approach and present him with the roses, which diminishes his brief look of worry.
“What are you doing here?” he asks as he accepts them.
They are Sweetness roses, cream colored with pinkish red tips to their petals, like they were dipped in paint.
Or something else red.
I do so enjoy the look of Walker in his scrubs and white coat, which I saw on Monday before we parted, but now he has had all week to settle into his skin and this next chapter of his life, with me ready to be there when his hard work ends.
He is also wearing my ring. Not on his left ring finger—not yet anyway—but a gift I gave him as a reminder of where his compass should always point.
To me.
“I finished my last city early so I could be here to take you out.” I nearly crush the roses between us in my eagerness to grip the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. As relieved and settled as he had looked before—aside from that brief unfortunateness with the less than stellar father-figure—in the release of our kiss, Walker looks even more radiantly at peace.
Good. That is what I always want to be for him. Peace. Comfort. And indulgence when needed too.
“Unless of course you have other plans for tonight?” I ask with a hint of teasing.
“Doctor Hammond—oh!” Doctor Aldrin cuts herself off as she comes out from behind the main desk where Walker had been lingering and finds us still closely met. Another woman is with her. “We didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Laura!” Walker holds the roses to the side so he can one-arm hug this other woman and kiss her cheek. “What are you doing kicking around here again?”
“Don’t get too excited,” she answers. “I’m still over at Memorial, but a referral gave me an excuse to drop by. How was your first week? And who do we have here?” She effortlessly turned all attention back on me.
“Busy! But good. Good. Um, Laura—I mean, Doctor Dunham, Doctor Aldrin—this is my boyfriend, Trey Fisher.”
“A pleasure,” Doctor Aldrin greets me first. I can tell she is eager to be off for whatever task she has next, but she still takes a moment to peruse me and seems to find me adequate. “You have a good weekend, Walker. Not all weeks will be this easy.” She means it playfully, given the wink she finishes with, and says her goodbyes with a nod.
“New boyfriend already, huh?” Doctor Dunham insinuates herself a little closer to us now that it is only us three. She is not in doctor garb, since she is off the clock from another hospital, but dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse. She has a bit of a busybody nature about her, but as I have said before, that isn’t a punishable offense on its own, so long as it is used in service to others. Like how she seems to be trying to protect Walker. I appreciate that.
“Be nice,” Walker chides her. He then adds softer, “He is nothing like Curtis, trust me.”
Indeed.
