Chapter 17Aiden
Chapter Seventeen
Aiden
The old house creaked around us, the only sound in Stella’s bedroom as we lay with our limbs entwined like vines. The moonlight spilled over her bare shoulders, highlighting the drying sweat on her skin. I inhaled the faint hints of her floral shampoo along with a muskier scent underneath, then grinned at the ceiling.
“I can’t believe we’re back in your bedroom again,” I whispered as I pulled her closer, her back nestling perfectly against my chest. The beat of her heart was steady against my hand, a rhythmic assurance that this wasn’t just another dream from which I’d wake, alone and yearning.
Stella let out a soft laugh, tilting her head to grant me access to the side of her neck where I planted a gentle kiss. “It’s similar in some ways, different in others.” She turned onto her back and met my gaze. Her eyes, reflecting the night sky outside, were deep pools I drowned in all over again.
“I definitely don’t remember sex being that good.” A low laugh tumbled out as I ran my fingers through her hair, marveling at the silkiness. Every touch, every shared breath, felt like stroking the edges of a favorite book—familiar, comfortable, yet somehow more heartfelt with age.
“Of course it’s different,” she said, her languid stroking of my chest making me twitch. “We’re not bumbling teenagers anymore. We’ve got more… experience.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Though I admit my experiences paled compared to this.” She laughed quietly, a light and carefree sound I wanted more of.
“Mine too. Because we’re special together.” I kissed her forehead gently before capturing her lips with mine.
“Speaking of experiences…” Stella shifted the topic as she rolled onto her side to face me, her eyes searching mine as if trying to read an unwritten chapter of my life. “Do you enjoy being a doctor?”
“Every day,” I replied without hesitation. Medicine was more than a career. It was an integral part of me. “Even the difficult ones like today. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a kid.”
“Why didn’t you become a surgeon?” Stella had no way of knowing her innocent question probed at one of my deepest scars. “It was all you talked about when we were together before.”
“I found out dreams and reality are sometimes very different things. Being a surgeon…” I trailed off as memories flashed through my mind. Inhaling, I continued, trying to put years of strife into context. “It requires a certain kind of courage. A willingness to hold lives in your hands in a very direct way, and the risks that come with that.”
“Isn’t that what you do every day anyway?” She tilted her head, her gaze full of curiosity and concern.
“Family practice is different.” Searching for the right words, I flexed my hands, which had balled into fists. “It’s about the long game, getting to really know the people I’m helping and guiding them through life’s ups and downs.” My voice was steady, but inside I was grappling with the complexities of choices made and paths not taken.
“What aren’t you saying? ”
I met her gaze, and a line formed between her brows. She knew me too well.
“There was an incident during my surgical rotation.”
She propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes searching mine. “What kind of incident?”
“A patient who didn’t make it.” My voice faltered, the room suddenly feeling smaller, as if the walls were witnesses to my confession. “It was supposed to be a routine, simple gallbladder procedure, but nothing is ever really routine in surgery.”
Her hand found mine, her grip both delicate and firm. “What happened, Aiden?”
“Complications. He had a massive heart attack on the table.” I swallowed hard, the memory of that day still so vivid. “Everything spiraled. I felt like I was outside my own body, watching this disaster unfold, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”
“That must have been terrifying,” she whispered, her thumb brushing across my knuckles.
“It was paralyzing. I froze, my mind completely blank, and the attending surgeon had to take over. I just stood there, gaping.” I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. “But there was nothing he could do. After that day, I questioned everything—my skills, my decisions, my path. I wondered if I was cut out to be a doctor at all.”
“Yet here you are,” she said softly, pulling herself closer. “You didn’t let that stop you.”
“No.” I opened my eyes to meet hers, wanting her to see the truth in them. “But it changed me. This was also when my marriage was falling apart. It was… a very dark time. Every decision I’d made had led me to that point. Leaving Florida, leaving you, getting together with Ainsley even though I knew it was a mistake, medical school… I kept telling myself that when I was a surgeon, it would all be worth it.” I pressed the heel of my hand against my eye, then gave Stella a faint smile when she kissed my shoulder.
“I’d let myself become so single-minded on one goal that I couldn’t comprehend any others. Losing that patient made me realize that my blind ambition had truly made me blind.” I swallowed, fighting off the utter despondency of that time. Of feeling like my life was over. “My parents couldn’t understand it when I said I didn’t want to be a surgeon anymore. They thought I was overreacting to the whole thing, especially my dad. He’d always wanted me to become a surgeon—he practically worshipped a distant relative who was a neurosurgeon. When added to the stress caused by my marriage to Ainsley—a marriage they’d wanted so much—I couldn’t take any more of it. Of them. I cut off communication with them. Didn’t speak to them for several years.”
“I’m so sorry, Aiden. But you’re on better terms now?”
I smiled, feeling a little lighter. “Yeah. About a year ago, we got together again and hashed everything out. They’d finally realized how much damage they’d done. And they believed me when I told them moving back here might actually help our relationship. I email them pretty often and my mom and I talk on the phone regularly.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I can see how losing a patient would be devastating. But… Don’t you have to face that in family practice too?” Her words were the verbal equivalent of walking on eggshells, and it made me smile. I kissed her temple to let her know I didn’t mind the question.
“Definitely, and I have to admit that that part of my practice is taking some getting used to. But operating is a very different situation. This is hard to explain, but losing that patient made me realize there were other paths open to me. Ones that were every bit as valid as surgery. All I had to do was open my eyes.”
She laid her head back down. With her hair fanning out around her, she looked like a mermaid. “I think you’re very brave. To face that and keep going. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
“I hope so.” The lingering doubt crept in, weaving through the contentment like a shadow in the moonlight.
“Of course you are,” she said, her voice steady. But there was something unsaid hanging between us, a recognition of the fragility of our rekindled connection .
“Being a doctor,” I continued, “it’s more than a job for me—it’s a part of who I am.” The confession felt intimate, even after the physical closeness we’d just shared. “When I first got into med school, I thought being a doctor would be like solving complex puzzles day in and day out.”
“But it isn’t?”
“No.” I exhaled, tracing the curve of her shoulder as I spoke. “It’s about the people behind those puzzles.” The realization had dawned slowly since taking over Dr. Nelson’s clinic, washing over me like the tide—steady, persistent, undeniable.
“I did a lot of soul-searching after the surgical debacle and my divorce, and I finally decided to stick it out. Internal medicine was my next rotation. And I saw the real impact I could have from getting to know my patients, their stories, their families.” A smile tugged at my lips as I recounted the way a patient had insisted on baking me a pie after I’d helped manage her diabetes.
“Building relationships, not just solving problems over a few hours,” Stella said.
“Exactly. That’s the surprise—the joy in those small moments. They’ve… fulfilled me in a way I never anticipated when I first set sail on this path. As a surgeon, your interaction with patients is often fleeting.” My chest swelled with pride, not for accolades or accomplishments, but for the genuine connections I’d woven into the fabric of Dove Key.
The room was silent save for our breathing and the distant sound of waves crashing against the bluff. I held Stella close, her heartbeat a rhythm that had become essential to my own. I traced the line of her collarbone with my fingertip. “So tell me about Orchid. About being a chef there.”
She settled down on her side again, her hair spilling over her shoulder. “It’s been a whirlwind. Being a chef is part passion, part madness. I’m always chasing flavors, textures—the perfect balance.”
“Sounds exhilarating.” I loved watching the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about her craft. It reminded me of how I felt when I figured out exactly what was bothering a patient.
“It is,” she agreed, “but it’s also long hours and endless pressure. There’s this dance in the kitchen, fast-paced and precise. Every service is a performance.”
“And I’m sure you handle it with grace.”
“It’s what I was born to do. I really believe that.” Stella sat up, drawing the sheet around her as if it were a protective barrier. Her expression grew solemn, her eyes searching mine. “Aiden, I need to be honest with you. I care about you. And reconnecting has been like finding something I thought I’d lost. But I can’t make any promises about where this is going between us.” Her voice was firm, resolute.
I nodded slowly, my heart sinking a fraction. “I understand. We’re both starting over, in a sense.”
“Exactly. And Orchid—it’s not just a job for me either. It’s my shot at proving myself. Here, where everyone knows your story before you’ve lived it.” She glanced out the window, where the silhouettes of trees swayed. “I belong here, in Calypso Key. And I’m going to make it as head chef. That has to be my focus.”
I brushed the hair off her forehead, smiling. “Your ambition is one of the things I love—respect—about you.” I corrected myself quickly, though the truth of my feelings threatened to spill over. “I’m sure we can work out any scheduling conflicts that might come up.”
She gave me a soft smile. “Thank you for understanding.”
I set the alarm on my watch, trying not to wince at the hour and how soon morning would come. We settled together, and letting out a long, contented sigh, she relaxed immediately. But as I held Stella close once more, a ripple of disquiet butted into my contentment. I stared at the ceiling, the shadows now moving with the fickle breeze—nothing was ever truly still. I wanted her, and I wanted to dive into the depths of her world again. Except a part of me wondered if the surface was all she’d allow me to explore. And that could be a problem .
Was she truly wanting to focus on her career? Or was that an excuse to guard her heart from me?
As my body relaxed, I held onto the warmth of her body, the gentle sound of her even breaths. I was falling fast and hard for her without a lifeline in sight. I understood that she needed time to fully trust me again, and I was willing to take whatever she could give. But a nagging thought made my eyes pop open again.
Would that be enough?