Chapter 41 Mia
Mia
I've been staring at the same spot on Sebastian's office wall for so long that the framed medical degree has started to blur into an indistinct beige rectangle.
Three weeks since Sebastian marched into Henderson's office and dropped his career-ending ultimatum.
Three weeks of uncertainty, of walking the halls with my badge clipped back in place but the ground still shifting beneath my feet.
And now we're here—Arjun, Laney, and me—packed into Sebastian's office like anxious sardines while he meets with Henderson one floor up to learn our fate.
"What about Thai?" Laney asks, thumb scrolling rapidly through options on her phone. "That place on Third has those dumplings you like."
"The ones with the peanut sauce?" Arjun doesn't look up from his own screen. "Last time we went there, the service was slower than my grandmother doing yoga."
I fidget with the edge of my lab coat, picking at a loose thread until it unravels another quarter inch. "Anywhere is fine. I'm not even sure I'll be able to eat."
"You'll eat," Laney says, shooting me a look that leaves no room for argument. "Celebration or consolation, food is non-negotiable."
Arjun snorts. "As if Walker would let them touch a hair on your brilliant head. The man threw Harper against a wall for you. He'll walk before he lets them push you out."
The memory of Sebastian's fierce defense still sends warmth blooming through my chest, even as anxiety claws at my stomach.
It's been three weeks of walking a tightrope—back at work but with our status in limbo while Henderson consulted with the board.
Three weeks of Sebastian's hand finding mine under conference tables, of stolen kisses in supply closets, of falling into a rhythm together that feels so natural it's hard to remember life before it.
"What time did his meeting start?" I glance at the clock for the sixteenth time in ten minutes.
"Two-thirty," Arjun answers. "Which means they've been at it for approximately..." he checks his watch with exaggerated precision, "forty-seven minutes and twenty-two seconds."
"That's a good sign, right?" I press my palms against my thighs to stop them from trembling. "If they were just going to say no, it wouldn't take this long."
Laney sets her phone down. "Or they're negotiating terms. Maybe figuring out which of your first-born children they get to sacrifice to the hospital gods."
"Not helping," I mutter, but my lips twitch into a reluctant smile. This is why I love Laney; she knows exactly when to pull me out of my own head.
We've fallen into a comfortable pattern, the four of us.
Dinners twice a week, Laney and Arjun bickering like siblings while Sebastian watches with that quiet amusement that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.
It feels like family, the kind you choose, the kind that holds you together when everything else threatens to fall apart.
"So," Laney says, voice dropping conspiratorially, "are we ever going to talk about the fact that you two practically live together now?"
Heat crawls up my neck. "We don't live together. We just... stay at each other's places."
"Every night," Arjun adds helpfully. "Alternating apartments like you're playing some kind of domestic tennis match."
I can't deny it. Sebastian and I have fallen into a rhythm that neither of us planned but neither wants to break.
One night at his condo with its absurdly comfortable bed and spectacular city views.
The next at my plant-filled apartment where he grumbles about Fitzwilliam that keeps dropping leaves, but waters him anyway when he thinks I'm not looking.
We pack overnight bags, leave toothbrushes and spare clothes at each other's places, and somehow it works.
I haven't spent a night without him since Montana, and the thought of doing so makes my chest tighten uncomfortably.
"It makes sense logistically," I say defensively, though we all know it's more than that. "Our schedules are crazy enough without trying to coordinate when we can see each other."
"Mmm-hmm." Laney's eyebrows communicate a novel's worth of skepticism. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you're stupidly in love with each other."
Before I can sputter out a denial—or worse, a confirmation—Arjun saves me.
"Speaking of love stories gone wrong," he says, finally pocketing his phone, "did I tell you Harper cornered me in the cafeteria yesterday? Still ranting about nepotism and favoritism and every other 'ism' he can think of."
I groan, dropping my head into my hands.
Harper's reaction when I returned to work had been exactly as awful as I'd expected.
He'd stormed out of our first department meeting, face flushed with rage, shouting about calling his father on the board and making sure "everyone knows what's really going on here.
" But it’s three weeks later, and nothing's come of his threats.
Just sullen glares in the hallway and passive-aggressive notes on patient charts.
"He's all bark," Laney says dismissively. "Besides, everyone knows he's just pissed because Walker exposed him for the mediocre hack he is."
"Not everyone," I correct her. "Just everyone who matters."
My fingers find the edge of my lab coat again, worrying the fabric until Arjun reaches over and gently pulls my hand away.
"You're going to unravel the whole thing," he says.
I manage a weak laugh, but my eyes keep darting to the door. What's taking so long? Is Sebastian in there fighting for all of us, or has Henderson already shot him down? The uncertainty is a physical weight pressing against my sternum, making each breath a conscious effort.
"Wherever we go for dinner," I say, desperate to think about anything else, "I just want wine. Lots of it."
"Seconded," Arjun raises an imaginary glass. "To the board members' colons suddenly developing an intimate relationship with their rectums."
"That's anatomically impossible," I point out, but I'm laughing despite myself.
"So is Walker smiling in public, but you managed that miracle," Laney quips.
She's not wrong. The Sebastian who returned from Montana is different from the one who left— quicker to smile and more willing to let others see the man behind the brilliant doctor facade.
The change hasn't gone unnoticed. I've caught nurses doing double-takes when he thanks them, residents whispering about how the ice king has apparently thawed.
The door suddenly swings open, and we all jerk to attention like guilty teenagers caught plotting mischief.
Sebastian stands in the doorway, jacket discarded, tie loose around his neck, looking absolutely exhausted.
His expression is carefully blank, that familiar mask of professional detachment firmly in place.
My heart stutters to a stop. This is it. Whatever happened upstairs, whatever decision was made, this moment is the pivot point our futures will swing around. I search his face desperately for a clue, but those dark eyes give nothing away.
Then, like the sun breaking through storm clouds, his mouth curves into a smile so genuine it transforms his entire face.
"It's all good," he says simply. "My entire team is staying in the diagnostics department permanently."
The relief hits me like a physical force, pushing the air from my lungs in a rush that sounds embarrassingly close to a sob.
I launch myself at Sebastian, my body colliding with his before my brain has fully processed what he's just said.
His arms wrap around me instantly, lifting me slightly off the ground as I bury my face against his neck.
I'm not crying, not quite, but my breath hitches in a way that suggests tears are imminent.
We're staying. All of us. The relief is so overwhelming it's almost painful, a physical ache spreading through my chest as the weeks of uncertainty finally dissolve.
"I told you," Sebastian murmurs against my hair, his arms tightening around me. "Did you really think I'd let them separate us?"
I pull back just enough to see his face, those dark eyes warm with satisfaction and something deeper that still makes my heart stutter when I recognize it. "How?" I manage, fingers clutching at his shirt. "What did you have to promise them? Your firstborn? Your kidney? Your secret waffle recipe?"
His laugh rumbles through his chest and into mine where we're pressed together. "Just had to remind them what would happen to the department's success rate if we left. And that Harper's father might be on the board, but my research brings in twice the funding."
"So you threatened them with math. How romantic." But I'm grinning so hard my face hurts, and when Sebastian sets me back on my feet, I immediately miss the warmth of him.
"Actually," Arjun cuts in, "I believe the technical term is 'career blackmail.' Very effective when executed properly."
Laney throws an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tight. "See? Told you it’d all work out." She turns to Sebastian. "I assume this means dinner's on you tonight."
"Naturally," Sebastian agrees, his hand finding the small of my back in that way that still sends tingles up my spine. "Wherever you want."
"On second thought," Laney says, exchanging a look with Arjun that's so obvious it might as well come with flashing neon signs, "I just remembered I have that... thing."
"Oh right, the thing," Arjun nods solemnly. "Very important thing. Can't miss it."
"You two are about as subtle as a cardiac arrest," I tell them, but I can't keep the fondness from my voice. Or the blush from my cheeks when Sebastian's thumb traces small circles against my lower back.
"Subtlety is overrated," Laney says cheerfully, already backing toward the door. "We'll celebrate properly this weekend. Right now, I think you two have some... private celebrating to do."
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Arjun adds, winking as he follows Laney out. "Which leaves your options wide open, really."
The door clicks shut behind them, and suddenly the air in Sebastian's office feels charged, electric with possibility. For a heartbeat, we just look at each other then his mouth crashes against mine, and everything else disappears.
The kiss is hungry and desperate, and filled with all the tension and worry of the past three weeks finally breaking free.
His hands tangle in my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss as my back hits the edge of his desk.
I clutch at his shoulders, his neck, anywhere I can reach, needing to feel him against me.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Sebastian's forehead rests against mine, his hands moving to cradle my face between his palms. His thumbs brush across my cheekbones, a touch so gentle it makes my chest ache.
"I had a whole speech prepared," he murmurs. "For if things went the other way. About how we'd figure it out, find positions at another hospital, start fresh somewhere else if we had to."
My throat tightens at the casual way he includes himself in that scenario—the immediate assumption that wherever I go, he goes too. As if there was never any question that we're a package deal now.
"You would have left?" I whisper, still not quite believing the depth of what he's offering. "Given up everything you've built here?"
His dark eyes meet mine. "For you? In a heartbeat." His thumbs continue their gentle path across my skin. "I wasn't kidding when I said I can't wait to see what our future holds, Mia. Whatever comes next—good cases, bad cases, hospital politics, family drama—I want to face it all with you."
The tears I've been fighting finally spill over, trickling down to meet his fingers still cradling my face.
"When I met you," I manage, my voice shaky but determined, "I thought you were the most arrogant, infuriating man I'd ever encountered."
The corner of his mouth quirks up. "To be fair, I was."
"You were," I agree, unable to help my own smile. "But you were also brilliant and passionate and cared about your patients." My hands smooth over his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath my palm. "And now you're mine."
"Yours," he confirms, pressing a kiss to my forehead that's so tender it makes fresh tears spill over my lids. "Always."
Tilting my face up, I seek out his mouth again. This kiss is slower, deeper, a promise rather than a desperate claim. When we part, Sebastian's eyes have darkened and his breathing is uneven it sends heat pooling low in my belly.
"So," he says, voice low, "how should we celebrate?"
"Dinner with Laney and Arjun this weekend," I reply, trying to sound casual despite the way my pulse races when his hands slip inside my lab coat to settle at my waist. "But tonight..."
"Tonight?" he prompts, fingers slipping beneath the hem of my shirt to find bare skin.
"Tonight is just for us."
His smile turns wicked, and he leans down until his lips brush the shell of my ear. "Good," he whispers, "because I've been thinking about bending you over this desk since the moment I walked in. Want to fuck you so hard you’ll feel me for days."
The words send a jolt of pure desire through me and my face flushes hot as my body instantly responds to the explicit promise.
Sebastian's always had this effect on me—the ability to unravel me with nothing but his voice, to make me want with an intensity that should be frightening but instead feels like coming home.
"Dr. Walker," I manage, aiming for scandalized but landing somewhere closer to breathless, "that's highly inappropriate workplace behavior."
"Then it's a good thing we're about to leave the workplace," he counters, pressing a quick, hard kiss to my mouth before stepping back. "My place or yours tonight?"
I consider this for approximately half a second. "Yours. Your shower has better water pressure for what I have planned."
His eyes darken further, and he reaches past me to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, our bodies brushing in a way that promises more to come. "Then what are we waiting for?"
And as he takes my hand and leads me toward the door, I know that whatever challenges await us, we'll face them together. Because that's what we do now. That's who we are.
Together.