Family Time
Dr. Simmons exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck before looking at me again. “I know you do, but it doesn't change anything. Right now, we’re dealing with post-traumatic stress-induced autonomic dysregulation. The sudden stimulus activated her sympathetic nervous system, causing an acute stress response. Her vitals spiked—tachycardia, hypertension, respiratory distress. We had to administer a benzodiazepine to suppress the hyperactive neural pathways before it escalated into neurogenic shock.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I know what that means.”
He tilted his head, giving me a look that made my blood boil. “Oh? They teach neuromodulatory crisis management in local medical schools now?”
Jo sucked in a breath beside me. “Oh, hell no.”
I clenched my jaw, standing up slowly. “Local medical school?” I repeated, my voice dangerously calm.
Dr. Simmons didn’t even blink. “I’m just saying, Dr. Laurent, that your approach seems… emotional. Which is understandable, given the circumstances.”
“You mean unprofessional,” I corrected, folding my arms. “Go ahead. Say what you really mean.”
His lips pressed together for a moment before he said, “I mean that surgeons trained in top-tier institutions tend to prioritize clinical detachment. It’s what keeps emotions from clouding medical judgment.”
Jo scoffed. “Right, because detachment makes for such compassionate patient care.”
Dr. Simmons ignored her. “You’re talented, Dr. Laurent, but talent doesn’t replace proper conditioning. You should know better than to expose a post-coma patient to unpredictable emotional stressors.”
I stepped forward, my heart hammering. “I do know better.”
His expression didn’t change. “Then act like it.”
We stared at each other, the tension thick between us.
Then, as if dismissing the conversation entirely, Dr. Simmons turned to check his clipboard. “We’ll reevaluate her condition in the morning. Until then, I suggest you let the medical staff handle it.”
He walked away before I could respond.
Jo muttered, “I hope he steps on a Lego.”
I was still fuming. But more than that—his words stung. Because no matter how much I wanted to argue… a small part of me knew he was right.
I had walked into Claire’s room thinking like a friend, not a doctor. I had let my emotions take over, completely forgetting that waking up after trauma wasn’t the same as simply opening your eyes. Her body, her mind—it was still adjusting, still healing. And I had pushed too much, too fast.
Jo nudged my arm gently. “Hey,” she said, her voice softer now. “Don’t listen to that asshole. He acted like you don’t know what you’re doing just because you care. That’s a good thing, Remi.”
I exhaled, staring at the floor. “Caring isn’t enough, Jo. Not when it hurts more than it helps.”
Jo frowned. “You didn’t hurt her.”
“She screamed, Jo.” My voice cracked slightly, and I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “She looked at me, and she panicked. It was like she didn’t even know who I was.”
Jo was quiet for a moment before she sighed. “You don’t know what’s going on in her head right now. But she woke up, and she asked for you. That has to mean something.”
I wanted to believe that.
But right now, all I could hear was the sound of Claire’s screams echoing in my head.
I rubbed my eyes, exhaustion pressing down on me like a weight. “I should go home.”
Jo studied me for a second, then nodded. “Yeah. You need rest.”
I let out a dry laugh. “I don’t even know what that feels like anymore.”
She hooked her arm through mine, guiding me toward the exit. “Then tonight, you’re gonna remember. Because if you collapse from exhaustion, I swear to God, I will personally strap you to a hospital bed.”
I sighed, but the corner of my mouth lifted slightly. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Jo smirked. “A little.”
We stepped outside, the night air cool against my skin. I took a deep breath, feeling the tension in my chest ease just a fraction.
Jo gave me a look. “Go home. Hug your kids. Eat something that isn’t coffee.”
I nodded, my voice quieter now. “Yeah… I think I will.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, I actually meant it.
****
By the time I got home, exhaustion was dragging at every part of me. My body ached, my head was heavy, and my heart—well, my heart was just tired.
But the moment I stepped inside and heard Laura’s excited chatter and Larry’s quiet but familiar voice, some of that weight lifted.
“Mummy!” Laura shouted, running toward me like she hadn’t seen me in years instead of just a day.
I barely had time to drop my bag before she latched onto my waist, squeezing me as tightly as her little arms could manage.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I murmured, running my fingers through her curls. “Where’s your brother?”
“I’m right here,” Larry said from the couch, his book resting on his lap. He wasn’t as outwardly excited as Laura, but the way his eyes brightened when he looked at me made my chest tighten.
I walked over and kissed the top of his head before sinking into the couch beside him.
Jo had already left after making sure I got inside, so it was just me and them now.
Laura climbed onto the couch, snuggling up beside me, while Larry shifted slightly but remained close.
“So,” I said, pulling them both closer. “Tell me about school.”
Laura immediately started talking, her words tumbling over each other.
“There’s a new girl in class! She has the shiniest hair I’ve ever seen, and I told her she looks like a princess, but then Tommy said princesses don’t have short hair, and I told him that’s a dumb rule because Rapunzel cut her hair and she was still a princess!”
I smiled, nodding along. “Sounds like you gave Tommy a very important lesson.”
“I did,” she said proudly. “Then Miss Carter gave me a gold star for being kind.”
I kissed her forehead. “That’s my girl.”
Larry, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. “I got a perfect score on my math test.”
I turned to him, my heart swelling with pride. “Larry, that’s amazing.”
He shrugged, but I could tell he was pleased. “It was easy.”
I laughed, squeezing his hand. “Still, I’m proud of you.”
For the next hour, I let them talk my ears off about school, their classmates, and every little detail about their day. Laura acted out an entire story about how she saved an earthworm from being stepped on, while Larry explained, in great detail, how their science teacher made a volcano erupt in class.
I laughed more in that hour than I had in weeks.
Eventually, their energy started to wind down.
“Alright, time for bed,” I said, standing up and stretching.
Laura groaned dramatically. “But I’m not even sleepy.”
Larry yawned. “You’re literally half asleep on Mummy’s lap.”
She pouted, but she didn’t argue when I picked her up. Larry followed as I carried her to their room, tucking them both in.
“Mummy?” Laura mumbled sleepily.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
She peeked up at me with drowsy eyes. “Will you be here in the morning?”
I hesitated, then brushed her hair back. “I have work, but I’ll make sure to see you before I leave.”
She nodded, her tiny hand gripping mine. “Okay.”
Larry didn’t say anything, but before I could stand up, he reached for my other hand, giving it a light squeeze.
My heart clenched.
I kissed them both goodnight and quietly left the room, closing the door behind me.
The house was silent now.
I exhaled, leaning against the wall, letting my exhaustion finally catch up to me.
That’s when my phone buzzed.
I frowned, pulling it out of my pocket. A message from Asher.
Asher: Let’s meet tomorrow. It’s important.
I stared at the message for a mo
ment before sighing.
Tomorrow. Another thing to add to my never-ending list.
I sent back a simple: Okay.
Then, finally, I allowed myself to rest.
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