A single moment
I didn’t smoke. I hadn’t in years. The last time I’d lit one was some random night, in a life that barely felt like mine, before medical school and the hospital, before Claire lit up my world in ways I didn’t know I needed.
But now, as I leaned against the cold hospital wall, the distant blare of sirens fading into the night air, I found myself holding a cigarette between my fingers. Just one, to quiet the relentless noise in my mind.
I took a drag, feeling the unfamiliar burn of smoke searing down my throat, oddly soothing. The cold wall pressed against the back of my head, and I let my eyes close. Just a second—just a second to let the tightness in my chest ease, for my mind to go silent.
I took another pull, hoping for just a moment of relief.
“Remi?”
Startled, I dropped the cigarette, crushed it under my heel just as Claire’s parents came into view. Their faces were pale, drawn, their eyes red with the kind of tears that seemed endless.
“Oh, honey.” Mrs. Whitaker’s voice broke as she pulled me into a hug. She held on tight, clutching me like she was afraid to let go, and I could feel the ache in her, raw and heavy, as if it were my own.
“Mrs. Whitaker…” I managed, my voice small. But there were no words for this.
Just the weight of grief pressing down on all of us.
Her husband reached out, his hand warm and steady on my shoulder. His eyes met mine, heavy with gratitude that nearly shattered me. “Remi, we know what you did. Thank you… for giving us a chance to see her again.”
I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “She’s strong. If anyone can make it through this, it’s Claire.”
We stood there in silence, bound by hope and fear, by the grief hanging between us, until Claire’s father finally gave me a faint nod and stepped back. His eyes held a weary, unspoken gratitude, one I felt far from deserving.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “She’s in the best hands.”
I excused myself, feeling the urgency to check on my kids rising. I pulled out my phone, dialing home. The nanny answered after a few rings, her calm, reassuring voice a balm to my frayed nerves.
“They’re fine, Dr. West,” she assured me. “They’ve been asking for you, but I told them you’ll be home as soon as you can.”
I hung up, feeling my exhaustion wash over me in waves. I swayed, the hallway spinning slightly. My hands clutched the wall for balance as I took a shaky breath, willing myself to stay upright.
Before I could regain my footing, a hand caught me by the arm, steady and firm. “Remi?”
Rowan’s voice was low, laced with concern.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, shrugging him off, trying to push away the weakness that clung to me. “I just… I need to be here. For Claire.”
His eyes scanned my face, unreadable. “You’re exhausted,” he said. “You need to take a break.”
I shook my head, pulling my arm free. “I don’t need your help, Rowan. I just… I need to be here. She needs me here.”
“You’ve done everything you can for her. Sitting here, waiting, wearing yourself down… it won’t change anything, Remi,” he said, voice gentle but steady. “You need rest.”
I looked down, hating how right he was. The walls felt like they were closing in on me, suffocating. I bit my lip, feeling the fight drain out of me. Finally, with a sigh, I muttered, “Fine. But just for a bit.”
\---
The bar was dimly lit, with warm, amber lights that made it feel miles away from the cold sterility of the hospital. I sat across from Rowan, nursing a drink in my hands. The alcohol burned, but it was a good burn, one that dulled the ache in my chest, letting me breathe just a little easier.
Rowan raised his glass, that infuriating smirk of his tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, you sure this isn’t just another wild streak, Dr. West?”
I rolled my eyes, but a reluctant smile slipped out. “Is this your way of reminding me of… that night?”
He took a sip, eyes glinting. “Wouldn’t want you thinking I forgot.”
I shook my head, taking a long drink. “Of course, you didn’t.”
A brief silence settled, then Rowan leaned forward, the playful look in his eyes making me wary. “Well, Remi,” he said with a mock-serious tone, “word of advice—don’t drink too much. Wouldn’t want any more… accidental escapades.”
I laughed, the sound surprising me, light and unguarded. “Trust me, I’m well aware of my limits tonight.”
“Good,” he replied, grinning. “I’d hate to be your next mistake.”
I raised an eyebrow, leaning back. “Wow, high opinion of yourself, huh?”
He shrugged, looking completely unfazed. “I think you’d agree I’m at least… memorable.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t suppress the smile that lingered. For just a moment, everything else faded—the grief, the fear, the exhaustion. We were just two people, sharing a drink, letting the weight of the day slip away.
“Thanks for this,” I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
He looked at me, his gaze softening. “Anytime.”
We sat in silence, the low hum of the bar fading into the background. Each sip loosened the knot in my chest, allowing me to breathe a little deeper. But nothing could quiet the image of Claire’s face, still and broken, her life barely hanging on.
Rowan seemed to sense my change in mood. “She’s strong, Remi,” he said, voice steady and calm. “If anyone can make it, it’s because you were there. Because you didn’t give up on her.”
I swallowed hard, blinking against the sting of tears. “I keep telling myself that. But when I think about what she has to face… it’s not fair.”
Rowan looked down for a moment, then back at me, his eyes serious. “Life’s not fair,” he said, a faint sadness coloring his voice. “But you’ve given her something most people never get—a second chance.”
A second chance. I wanted to hold onto that hope, to let it be enough, but it felt like trying to hold water in my hands.
“She’s going to hate me,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath. “When she wakes up and realizes what she’s lost… her leg, her… her whole life as she knew it.”
Rowan’s gaze never wavered. “She may hate the circumstances, but she won’t hate you. You did what had to be done, Remi.”
I closed my eyes, his words a strange comfort. “I hope you’re right.”
He took another sip, watching me with that same quiet intensity. “You’re going to need strength for this. Maybe even more than she will. But I’ve seen you fight for the people you care about. I know you’ll be there for her, no matter what.”
I managed a small, weary smile. “It almost sounds like you believe in me.”
“Almost?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Give me some credit.”
We laughed quietly, the weight of the day easing just a little. Despite everything, I didn’t feel so alone. Rowan’s presence, as surprising as it was, felt like a lifeline, grounding me when I didn’t even realize I needed it.
“Thank you,” I whispered, glancing down at my nearly empty glass, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
He reached across the table, his hand resting on mine, warm and steady. “Anytime, Remi. Anytime.”
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