Chapter 18 Micah
I adjust my glasses and lift another crate of pediatric trauma kits onto the stainless steel counter.
The medical wing of the Sunflower Center is finally starting to look like a real clinic instead of a construction site.
It smells like fresh paint and the heavy scent of the lavender cleaner Zora insisted on using for the lobby.
Six months of work are finally coming to a point where I can see the finish line.
I glance over at Zora as she tears open a box of thermometers.
She moves with a focused energy that makes the gold-blonde puffs of her hair bounce with every motion.
We have spent every day for the last two weeks in this room together.
She has moved past the cold silence that defined our first few months, but there is still a wall between us that I can’t seem to scale.
Dameon and Theo have already found their way back into her good graces.
She still looks at me with a flicker of hesitation.
I understand it because I’m the doctor who should have known better than to mess with her autonomy.
I set the trauma kits in a neat row on the shelf. "The delivery for the oxygen tanks should be here by three. I want to make sure the brackets are secure before they arrive."
Zora doesn't look up from her task, her fingers moving quickly as she sorts the digital thermometers into their charging docks. "I already checked the schedule. The technician said he might be early if the traffic downtown stays light."
I watch the way her shoulders stay tight.
Her silk shirt is a soft shade of cream that makes her skin look even warmer under the fluorescent lights.
She is always put together, even when we are doing manual labor in a humid building.
I want to reach out and touch the spot between her shoulder blades to see if I can make her relax.
I stay where I am instead. "You have done an incredible job with the layout, Zo.
This place is going to save lives before the first month is even over. "
She pauses for a second, her hand hovering over a plastic tray. "I hope so. It feels like a lot of pressure to get everything perfect."
I walk over to the sink to wash my hands, the sound of the running water filling the small exam room.
The silence between us crackles, but today it is thinner.
I can feel her watching me when I turn my back.
She has admitted she can tell us apart now based on our Alpha pheromones, but I try to stay consistent in my appearance for her.
Zora walks over to the desk in the corner and picks up a thick stack of folders. Her expression shifts into something more somber. "I spent all morning going through the preliminary placement files. The social workers sent over thirty more names today."
I dry my hands and lean against the counter, giving her my full attention. This is the part of the project that usually keeps her up until three in the morning. "That is a lot for one intake cycle. How many beds do we have left in the first wing?"
She flips through the pages, her eyes scanning the bios. "There are only twelve spots left for the initial opening. I have forty-two children on this list who are currently in high-risk environments."
I can see the tension returning to her jaw. "We are doing everything we can, Zo. The second wing will be finished by the end of the year."
Zora shakes her head and drops the files onto the desk with a dull thud.
"That doesn't help the kids who need a safe place tonight.
I spent two hours reading about a seven-year-old boy who has been bounced through four different foster homes in six months because they do not know how to handle his emotional outbursts. "
I move a step closer, close enough to see the way her chest is rising and falling a little too fast. "You cannot carry the entire system on your back. The point of this center is to provide quality care, not just to fill every square inch of the building with beds."
She looks up at me, and for the first time today, our eyes meet.
There is a deep, aching fatigue in her brown eyes that makes my chest tighten.
"I feel like a fraud, Micah. I sit on my stream and talk about safety and empowerment for Omegas, but here I am deciding which child gets a bed and which one stays in the system. Who am I to make that call?"
I reach out and let my hand hover near her arm, waiting for her to signal that it is okay to touch her. "You are the one who cares enough to stay awake worrying about it. That makes you the most qualified person in the city."
She doesn't pull away, but she doesn't move toward me either.
The distance is still there. Her scent shifts; the honey and vanilla notes turn slightly acidic as her anxiety climbs.
I need to keep her grounded before she spirals, but she is already turning back to the files, her hands shaking as she picks up the first folder again.
The paper in Zora's hand crinkles as her grip gets tighter, the sound echoing in the small room. Her breathing has shifted from the steady rhythm of work into the short, shallow gasps that I recognize all too well. Zora lets out a jagged breath that sounds like a sob before she drops her head. "I’m going to fail them. I’m going to pick the wrong kids and someone is going to get hurt because I wasn't enough to fix it. "
I drop the box of gauze on the counter and move to her before she can spiral any further.
I reach past her and close the exam room door, clicking the lock into place to shut out the noise of the power drills and hammers in the hallway.
The room becomes a quiet, private box. I turn back to her and place my hands on her shoulders, feeling the way she is vibrating with nervous energy.
I keep my voice low and steady, pressing my palms against her shoulders to anchor her. "Zora, put your hand on my chest. Feel my heart and stay right here with me." I take her hand and press it flat against my sternum, right over the steady thud of my heart.
She tries to focus, but her head shakes as she struggles to draw in a real breath. "I can't do this. Everything is moving too fast and I can't catch up."
I slide my other hand from her shoulder to her face, cupping her cheek so she has to look at me instead of the files. My thumb brushes over her cheekbone to keep her focused on the touch. "I need you to listen to my heart and stop thinking about the intake lists."
I take a long, exaggerated breath, letting my chest expand and holding it while I count to four.
She follows the movement, her hand rising and falling with my chest as she mimics the pattern I’m setting.
We stand there in the center of the small room, our shadows stretched long across the tile floor.
I lean my forehead against hers, closing the gap until our breaths mingle in the small space between us.
"You are more than enough. You are the only reason these kids even have a list to be on.
Without you, there would be zero beds for anyone. "
Zora lets out a long, shaky exhale and sags against me.
I catch her weight and pull her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her as if I can shield her from the files sitting on the desk.
She buries her face in the crook of my neck, her hands clutching at the back of my scrub top with a desperate grip.
She smells like the stress of the morning, but underneath that, I can still find the honey and vanilla that usually defines her scent.
I rub my hands in slow circles over her back, feeling the tension eases out of her muscles as she stops shaking. "The weight you feel is proof that you are doing this for the right reasons. If this didn't hurt you, I would be worried that you were the wrong person for the job."
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes wet but much clearer than they were a minute ago. She reaches up and touches the skin of my neck, her fingers still trembling slightly. "How do you always know exactly what to say to get me back to the ground?"
I let out a small, self-deprecating laugh and hold her closer. "I have spent six months watching you, Zo. I know every shift in your breathing and every way you try to hide it when you are overwhelmed. I have made it my full-time job to understand what you need before you even have to ask for it."
She doesn't look away this time; I see the moment her brain stops categorizing me as a threat or a liar and starts seeing me as the man who has stayed by her side through every single panic attack. She runs her hand down my arm, her touch light but intentional as she finds the edge of my sleeve.
Zora takes one more deep breath, and I can tell it finally reaches her lungs. "I have been so angry with you. I wanted to keep being angry because it was easier than admitting that I still want you around."
I keep my hands on her waist, holding her steady. I don't want to push her, but I can't look away from the way her lips are parted. "You are allowed to be as angry as you want."
She shakes her head and steps even closer, closing the last inch of space between our bodies.
"I was hurt by how you guys went about things, and the fact Reid still tries to control my life. But I’ve noticed how you’re all trying to be better.
You’ve all helped make this dream a reality, and it’s time I stop being so harsh with you. "
She reaches up and grabs the front of my shirt; her knuckles brushing against my chest. Before I can say anything else, she pulls me down and presses her lips against mine with a force that catches me off guard.
The kiss is desperate and tender all at once, a sudden release of everything we have been holding back.