Page 7 of Stuck with my Guarded MVP
I smiled quickly. "Honestly, it works. Content creation for medical education is portable. If I had to give up practicing medicine, at least I get to work anywhere and help people learn. That’s a win."
He looked like he wanted to say something else but nodded. "I mean it, thank you. You always step in where it counts."
"If I’m not going to have my own family chaos, I might as well organize yours."
He gave me a look. Half fond, half teasing. "You’re too much. But I love you. See you later?"
"Always."
The call ended. I stood there for a second, staring at the blank screen.
The apartment was starting to look like a home. Every cabinet had a labeled bin. The couch throw was folded just so. I’d even added a wall hook at kid height for backpacks.
It all worked.
But something felt off.
I stood still, half-squinting at the front doorway, like something didn’t quite add up.
“That’s it.” I picked up my pen and scribbled a new note to myself.
Pick up a shoe tray for the entryway.
I checked the weather app on my phone and frowned. Rain, later this afternoon.
"Guess I’m going now."
I promised Brooke I’d evaluate the local farmers market, so I grabbed my keys and headed downstairs. At the front desk, I spotted Arturo and paused.
"Hey, Arturo, any decent farmers' markets around here?"
"Four blocks south," he said without missing a beat, handing me a reusable bag like he'd been waiting for the question. "Red-striped awnings. Best peaches in the city."
I smiled. "Appreciate the tip. I’ll report back."
"You’d better. I have high standards."
I laughed and pushed open the door, stepping into the city buzz.
I took the long way back from the market, cutting through the little residential square near the apartment. A few café tables spilled onto the sidewalk.
I grabbed a cup of coffee. Kids chased pigeons near the fountain. A couple leaned into each other on a bench under a tree, talking low, laughing even lower.
The bench at the far edge of the square provided a perfect balance of shade and distance from the cute couple. Tablet balanced on my lap, grocery bag resting by my foot, I tapped out a list for the girls’ arrival next week: kid-sized hangers, sunscreen, a double set of shampoo bottles so they wouldn’t have to share.
But my eyes kept drifting.
The couple was still there. Still leaning close. The man said something, and the woman tilted her head, smiling like the moment was just for them. Like she’d always known how to lean into a shoulder without overthinking it.
That kind of closeness looked easy for some people.
I blinked and looked down at my list. Wrote the word "toothbrushes." Underlined it. Then paused, pen hovering.
Who am I kidding?
I didn’t even like living with roommates.
In college, I labeled everything. In med school, I practically lived in the library. After residency, I sublet a one-bedroom apartment and never looked back.
