Page 81 of Axe-identally Married
“It’s nothing. It’s what I was trained to do.” I picked up the mug and blew on the hot liquid to avoid his intense stare.
“Stop that. Don’t discount how talented you are.”
“It’s CPR.”
He put his knitting down, his brow furrowed deeply. Oh boy, now he was serious. “A lot of people know CPR, but few can manage a crisis the way you did today. You took command, gave orders, provided lifesaving medical care, and then stayed with your patient until he was stable. You are a fucking superhero,” he bit out. “And if you ever, for a single minute, think otherwise, then I’m here to remind you.”
My heart flipped, but still… “It’s my job.”
“Sure. Being a doctor may be how you earn a living, but what you did today was so much more than ajob. It’s your calling, Willa. You help, you care, and you jump in when needed. Without hesitation.” He roughed a hand over his beard and shook his head. “How were you able to keep your chest compressions so even and steady for so long? How did you control your own heart rate and adrenaline?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure how to even begin to form a response.
“That’s it. I’m getting a tattoo. You, wearing a cape and a stethoscope. Right here.” He pulled up his shirt and thumped his chiseled chest.
Giggling, I averted my eyes. I was exhausted and coming down from one hell of an adrenaline high. My muscles ached and so did my head. I couldn’t control what I would do if faced head-on with the combination of those abs, that chest, and that face. He was a deadly temptation. While I could usually resist, in my weakened state, it wasn’t worth the risk.
“I was terrified,” I admitted, lowering my chin. Try as I might, I needed to unload. Rather than call my mom, who’d always been my sounding board, or Lila or Magnolia, I wanted to share myself with Cole. “I was panicking and struggling to stay focused.”
I pulled my damp hair back into a ponytail and focused on breathing steadily.
“I should be used to this. Battle hardened by now. I spent two years in an emergency room. I’ve seen awful things and treated hundreds of trauma patients. I’ve lost some. I’ve seen children with gunshot wounds. Over time, you learn to detach, to be objective, to problem-solve and execute with precision. But today, detaching was difficult.”
His eyes softened. “You’re not a robot, and when the patients are people you know and love? Cut yourself some slack. Mr. Moran drove us to school from kindergarten until we graduated from high school. He dressed up as Santa at church. He and his wife give out full-size candy bars at Halloween. You’re allowed to be scared.”
But that was just the thing. I couldn’t be scared. I couldn’t be human. Not in those types of situations. As the town doctor, my job was to keep everyone healthy all the time, to care for generation after generation of Lovewell citizens. “What if I hadn’t been there?” I whispered. “He would have been dead before the ambulance arrived.”
“You can’t be everywhere for everyone, but you were today. Because of you, Mr. Moran gets to kiss his wife and see his kids again. And maybe that’s enough.”
I nodded, my eyes welling with tears.
“Let’s get you to bed, wifey. You’re beat.”
I was. And I was in desperate need of a reset. But I couldn’t bear the thought of going in there alone. Of not being with him.
“Can you stay with me?” I asked, sniffling.
“Of course. Let me brush my teeth.”
My stomach twisted, and my chest went tight as he shuffled away from me. What had I done? I’d invited Cole into my bed?
It wasn’t sexual—I was wearing faded old pj’s, and my face was red and splotchy from crying, for God’s sake—but it was intimate. Regardless, I didn’t think I could sleep without him. But was I setting myself up for total devastation by doing this? Because my defenses were crumbling, and my heart had already begun to embrace the man I’d married.
He came into my room dressed in nothing but boxer briefs and a faded T-shirt, his face scrubbed and his hair sticking up funny, like he’d been tugging on it all night.
“Which side do you sleep on?” he asked, his eyes downcast and his cheeks pink, looking boyish. God, that wasn’t helping my nerves one bit.
“Right.”
Nodding, he rounded the bed and shuffled up to the left side.
It was a queen-size bed, which had always felt spacious to me, but when a six-seven hockey playing lumberjack crawled in beside me, it felt a lot smaller.
He shifted, rolling toward me. “Is this okay?”
Instantly, his warmth radiated through his T-shirt, calming me. With a nod, I reached over and flipped off the lamp on my nightstand.
“Can I tell you something?” he whispered.
