Chapter 50
FRANKIE
I love my chosen career, but first trimester fatigue and wearing a lead apron all night long on not enough sleep from the day before is a terrible combination.
And I missed my window to talk to Logan, although he sent me a string of text messages.
Logan
Fuck, okay
It’s going to be okay
Can you talk now?
Or in the morning
Anytime
Except by the time I read those, it’s one in the morning, which is four a.m. for him, and he’s almost definitely asleep. And since I know my text messages wake him up, I’m not going to respond then.
“Ms. Wilson?”
I jerk my head up and drop my phone. “Yes. Sorry.”
The radiologist I’ve been shadowing, Dr. Okafor, comes into the room I ducked into and picks up my phone. He hands it over. “Here you go.”
“I’m sorry.” Tears threaten. No, that’s not acceptable at all. I take a slow, careful breath in and hold it. “I’m fine.”
“Sure. But you also look like you could use some sleep.” He tips his head in the direction of the assessment room we’d just been in, supporting the team working on a trauma patient. “You were sharp in there. Do you think you’ve met your learning objectives for the shift?”
The bare minimum, yes. But I only get so many of these shifts in the month, and I want to make the most of them. “I can keep—”
“I think it might be for the best if you went home and got some sleep. If you sleep late enough tomorrow, and maybe grab a longer nap, you’ll be better set up for a successful night shift tomorrow night.” His eyebrows lift as he looks at me.
It takes me a minute to process what he’s saying—because I am tired. More than I want to admit. “You’re going to let me shadow you tomorrow night, too?”
“Good news for you, the other clerkship student called in sick.” He nods at my lead apron. “My wife was pregnant in her first year of residency. It’s doable, but you have to be religious about protecting your sleep.”
“Oh, I—” I swallow my denial. It’s none of his business if I’m keeping the pregnancy or not, and until I decide not, then I might as well ask questions about how it would work if I did decide to have a baby. “How did you manage childcare? How much time did she take off?”
“She ended up taking almost four months off, which was lucky, based on when she went into labour and when her rotations were scheduled to start. She was taken off the schedule for rotations that she couldn’t do, there’s paperwork for that, and the rest sorts itself out.
We juggled shifts, my mom moved in with us for a few months, and then we got into a good daycare for health care workers.
I can give you the name of it if you need it. ”
“Thank you. That’s a question for later.”
He laughs. “Not too much later. They have a year-long waiting list.”
My heart craters. “Ah. Well, thanks anyway.”
“Go on, get out of here.” He gestures for my protective gear. “Let me take that from you.”
I wake up, mid-morning, to distant knocking at the front door and my phone ringing off the hook.
Scrambling to my feet, disoriented and panicking that I’ve missed a shift at the hospital, I’m deeply surprised to see my father’s name on the screen.
Definitely not answering that call. I shove my phone aside and scramble for the door, because the knocking isn’t stopping, and it doesn’t sound like Sloane and Liz are home.
When I glance through the little window, all I see is the top of a nondescript baseball hat, but I still know the shape of Logan’s body.
Gasping, I yank the door open. “What are you doing here?”
He lifts his head, his face stricken. “You’re pregnant.”
I stare at him.
He stares back.
“Logan, you have a game in Boston tonight.”
He laughs in disbelief. “Yeah, I’m not going to make that.”
“What the fuck?”
“You’re pregnant.”
“I’m aware.”
“That’s not a conversation we have by text message.”
“We live on opposite sides of the continent.”
“Really need to do something about that,” he mutters as he yanks his hat off and turns it around before he sweeps in and takes my face in his hands, exhaling in relief so profound it hits me like a sound wave before he kisses me firmly.
His lips soften immediately, one kiss turning into two and then three. And then he stops, abruptly, and takes a step back. “I didn’t fly all this way to lose myself in kissing you. You’re having an emergency.”
“That feels like a stretch. I mean, it’s…certainly dramatic, but it’s a slow-moving drama.”
“Well, I only have a couple of options for telling the team I need some time off, so I went with family emergency.”
“You didn’t.” I stare at him, stricken.
“It was that or answer questions about whether I need the Player Assistance Program.”
Outrage flares on his behalf. “They can’t ask you questions—”
“I know. Baby, I know, but I haven’t talked to my agent yet. I’ll get it all straightened out, but last night, I just needed to tell the team something. Because figuring out how much time I need to take here felt like an in-person conversation.”
“Time for what?”
“You said you’re exploring your options.
” He searches my face. “If you don’t want to be pregnant, there would be a procedure, right?
An abortion? I don’t know when you would do that, but I’ll be here for it.
I know you have your friends, and they’re lovely, but this is the kind of thing I get on a plane for, no questions asked. ”
Of course it is. It was just twenty-four hours ago that he threatened to get on a plane because my bike got mangled.
I should have seen this coming. “Oh Logan…I didn’t want you to think I was keeping anything from you.
But I didn’t mean to create a problem for you that dragged you away from the team. I—”
“Frankie, there are going to be a lot of moments in our lives where we’re far apart, and it needs to be that way by necessity.
This isn’t one of them. I’ll rejoin the team in a few days.
Right now, my wife needs me. Even if she’s tough and strong and is trying her best to pretend that she doesn’t.
” He pulls me close, and his voice goes ragged.
“And even if you don’t need me, I think I need this.
We’ve been thrust into the deep end of marriage.
If I can’t protect you now, then I’m not a good enough husband, and—”
“I love you.” I know I’m interrupting him while he says the nicest things, but this is important. “You’re the best husband I could ever ask for. Better than I ever hoped for, actually, and—”
“Say it again.” He caresses my cheek with his thumb as his eyes bore into me, wildly intense and perfectly safe. “I love you, too, Frankie. Please say it again.”
“I love you.” I laugh and trip over a sob, because it was hard to pretend that I was fine, and now that he’s here and I’ve finally said the three words I’ve carried in my heart for so long, I’m not actually fine at all. “I love you so much. I’m so scared. And I hate being scared.”
“I know, baby.” He kisses me again, then wraps me in his arms, enveloping me in a warmth so all-encompassing that the panic is forced to take a step back.
I burrow my face in his chest.
He smoothes his hand over my hair. “Can I come inside?”
Startled, I laugh and look around. We’re still in the foyer.
Setting his hands on my hips, he moves me back until he can get the door closed, then he picks me up.
“Logan!”
“I’m going to bet that my wife hasn’t eaten yet today.”
“I just woke up,” I gasp as I wrap my arms around his neck.
He palms my ass, wrapping my legs around his waist, and he carries me to the kitchen.
“Are you queasy?” he asks after he sets me down on the counter.
I shrug.
He presses his forehead against mine. “How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know. Tired.”
“Yeah, you were tired when I was here, weren’t you?” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t more careful with protection. Really fucking sorry.”
I take a deep breath and hold it.
He cocks his head, his brows pulling tight. “What?”
“I’m twenty-seven. This is not a good time to be pregnant, but there isn’t going to be a better time in the next three years. We could wait until I become an attending, but that will have its own set of challenges, and I’ll be older.”
“There will always be challenges, sure.”
“I know it seems fast, but we’ll have seven months to adjust to the idea of—”
“I’ve adjusted already.” He grins broadly.
“Of course you have.” My laugh is watery, weak.
“You want to have my baby?” He looks so, so pleased.
“I don’t know what this means for residency.” I sound more uncertain than I feel. “But I know it’s possible, with enough support.”
“We’re going to find that out together. My mom is going to lose her mind. Do you think there’s enough room in the canal house for her to stay with us?” He drags in a deep breath. “Or maybe we should buy two houses, side by side. That would be better for privacy.”
“Wait, what?”
“Welcome to Granger family, baby. We’re way too much, all of the time. I’m sorry in advance.”
“Your parents can’t move in next door to us before I’ve even met them.”
“They won’t live there full time. They’ll have grandchildren on the other side of the continent.
And I don’t want them to be too close, because I want to build a private life with you.
My love.” He kisses me again, and this time it’s soft and endless, one kiss that stretches and grows, the physical manifestation of three words we waited so long to say to each other.
I love you.
So I say it again, because I can, because it’s so easy now.
“I love you,” I whisper into his mouth, mid-kiss.
He smiles and keeps caressing my mouth with his. I know.
I start laughing. We’re still kissing.
“My love,” he repeats, his lips brushing mine. “Is that funny? Too cheesy?”
“Could never be too cheesy.” I cling to him. “You knew I loved you.”
“Yes.” So simple. So certain. “But you spent ten years figuring out how to live your life without fear, and love brought that fear roaring back. You had to take the time you needed to figure out how to love without fear.”
That sounds so familiar. I lean my head back and look at him, curiosity making my pulse race. “Did you say that before?”
A proud smile curls his mouth into the most handsome grin I’ve ever seen.
“It’s a line from The Mist At Dawn’s Edge.
I’ve been thinking about it ever since I finished reading it.
You loved that book so much, and I kept thinking about how you see yourself as needing to be a tough fighter in this world.
I get it, I see why, but I see this soft lover inside you, and I knew that if I gave you enough time, you’d trust me enough to take off your armor. ”
“Wow.”
“I love you so much, Francesca. So fucking much. I fell in love with you from the moment you wished me a happy birthday. I’m in awe of your brain and your heart and your resilience.
I want you. Every part of you. I want your mess and your fears and your hopes and dreams. And some of them are fucking cheesy.
I want all of that. I want all of you. I want the stupid shit.
I want to make poetry with our bodies. I want to know I can cry in front of you, and you won’t think I’m weak, and you’ll still be begging me to rail you against the wall.
I want to sleep in a tangle and hold your belly as it grows and figure out the hard shit about childcare and being on opposite ends of the country sometimes.
But it won’t be for long, baby. I promise I’ll be here soon. ”
My heart feels so full it might burst. I never thought I’d fall in love with a hockey player.
So much for thinking I’d maybe find someone to be a stay-at-home dad…
We’re going to need a nanny to juggle both of our careers and a baby, too.
But I know without a doubt that Logan’s going to be an active part of figuring that out with me.
"I'm so glad I married you," he whispers against my lips, reading my mind.
"Me too," I whisper back. “My badass assassin, furiously insisting on protecting me.”
“Always.”
“Are you going to be in a lot of trouble with work?”
“Fuck no.” He strokes my cheek. “But I do need to make some phone calls now that I know we’re okay.”
Phone calls. Oh, no. “Um… That reminds me, my father was calling me this morning. He never calls me.”
Logan goes still. Just for a moment. Then, without missing more than a solitary beat, he nods firmly. “If he’s figured it out, he’s figured it out. I will protect you with everything I have. This won’t touch you, I promise.”