CHAPTER 21
The return to Minnesota felt different. Not because anything had changed on the surface. But because everything beneath it had.
Brew’s schedule resumed almost
immediately with long hours and early mornings that bled into late nights. The upgrade on his place was finished but he had little time to enjoy it.
Cases stacked back-to-back, each one demanding the same precision, the same focus, the same level of control that had defined his life long before Randi entered it.
But now, there was something waiting at the edge of it.
Her.
She was the shining light despite it all.
Randi found her rhythm in the quiet spaces between his. It wasn’t what she had imagined love would look like. She hadn’t really anything to compare it to, other than what she remembered was shared between her parents. That was what she wanted, and she was determined to give it her all.
She remained busy building her catalog of canvases and brought to life those photos she captured with her cell on the ranch, the mustangs, and Montana’s beautiful landscape.
She showed up at his office one afternoon with takeout balanced carefully in her hands, the receptionist offering her a knowing smile as she passed through.
“He’s still in with a patient,” she said gently.
“That’s okay,” Randi replied. “I’ll wait.”
When he finally stepped out and saw her sitting there, something in his expression shifted instantly. The tightness around his mouth and eyes relaxed.
“You brought lunch,” he said, almost surprised.
“You looked like you needed to be reminded,” she answered lightly.
They ate in his office, the conversation easy but brief, time always pressing in around them. Still, it was enough. More than enough. Every moment spent together was priceless and mattered.
Evenings were harder to hold onto.
Most late nights he went straight to her place because she was closer to the hospital, and they had decided it was best if he kept some clothes there. He always arrived drawn; exhaustion deeply defined into every line on his face.
They ordered in more than not, the effort of cooking replaced by the comfort of simply being together. Movies played quietly in the background, neither of them truly watching, her curled into his side as his arm settled around her with a familiarity that felt both new and long overdue.
One night, midway through a film neither of them had chosen with any real intention, his breathing shifted. It slowed and then steadied peacefully.
When she glanced up, she noticed he had fallen asleep. Randi didn’t move. She didn’t want to. There was something about seeing him like that—unguarded, uncontained, that settled something deep inside her. This was the man no one else saw.
Not the surgeon. Not the composed, capable presence everyone relied on. Just him.
She reached for the remote with her left hand, turning the volume down before letting her head rest lightly against his chest.
For a moment, she allowed herself to believe in it fully. There was no hesitation in her thought. No waiting for it to disappear. Just this, comfortable, connected, and deeply in love.
Randi glanced at her wall calendar. A month had already gone by. It was hard to believe, and she quickly pulled out her cell to double-check if it was correct.
Thirty-two days to be exact.
Her first thought was a celebration. The absence of time was her reality. She had to do something to mark the occasion. Checking with his assistant was her first thought. She’d find the time and work it into his schedule somehow.
Brew was halfway through his day when his cell rang for the third consecutive time. Same number he didn’t recognize.
He almost didn’t take it. But something made him pause, step away from the noise of the hallway, and answer.
“This is Dr. Clay.”
The voice on the other end was direct, professional.
He listened. At first, with disbelief, then without reaction, and finally with a growing stillness.
Hah! A what? A Department Chair position back in Montana.
By the time the call ended, he hadn’t moved. The hallway around him continued as it always did - voices, footsteps, urgency - but it all seemed distant now and muted.
He looked out the window, toward nothing … in particular. Then his eyes slowly scanned everything circulating around him. The words finally sinking in.
Holy shit.
Back in her studio, Randi stood before a canvas, her brush hovering as she considered the next stroke, still thinking of their anniversary that slipped by.
Her phone rang. She ignored it.
Then it rang again.
With a quiet exhale, she set the brush aside and reached for it.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end was warm, enthusiastic, and professional.
Call coming from – where?
The Minneapolis Institute of Art.
She listened, her grip tightening slightly as the words unfolded.
Artist in Residence.
A position few were offered.
Fewer still accepted.
When the call ended, she remained where she was.
The room felt different, despite the same walls, same lighting that began to fade in and out.
Holy shit.
Later that night, they sat across from each other in her living room, the weight of their separate news settled into the space between them.
“You go first,” she said softly.
Brew studied her for a moment, then nodded.
“They offered me a Department Chair position,” he said. “Back in Montana.”
The words landed quietly.
But they carried everything.
Randi let out a slow breath.
“That’s… incredible.”
“It is,” he said.
“And?”
He held her gaze.
“It’s also complicated.”
She nodded.
Then lifted her own truth into the space between them.
“I got a call today too.”
His expression shifted slightly.
“The Institute,” she said. “They offered me an Artist in Residence position.”
Silence followed.
They stared at each other in disbelief.
What were the odds.
“That’s huge,” he said.
“It is.”
“And?”
Her eyes dropped briefly before returning to his.
“It’s also complicated.”
A faint, almost ironic smile passed between them. And then, they guffawed simultaneously, which turned into an uncontrolled chuckle, and exploded into belly laughter.
Their eyes teared and overflowed as they held their stomachs, caught their breath, and let loose again. They didn’t rush for answers. They were overwhelmed at the absurdity of the situation.
Who would’ve thought that opportunity would come knocking for them both at the most inconvenient time of their relationship.
There was no simple answer, no simple response.
They both inhaled and exhaled deeply multiple times to control themselves.
Brew was the first to talk.
“What were the chances of that happening?”
“Beats me but it did.”
He drew Randi into his arms and kissed her tenderly.
“You’ve worked for this, honey. You should say yes.”
She studied him carefully.
“So should you. You can be close to your family and the clinic. Think of the good you can do for those on the rez.”
“Babe, we’re already accomplishing that.”
“But you need to expand, right? And to be back with your family. Your parents aren’t getting any younger.”
“So, what happens if I move, with us?”
The question lingered honest and unavoidable.
“We won’t know until we try.”
Brew leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked at her.
“I don’t think I can walk away from you babe, like that. We’ve come so far in our relationship. It’s working.”
She cupped his face between her hands.
“Anything worth having, is worth fighting for,” she answered, and kissed him with meaning.
He returned the kiss with a passion that melded a promise to try and not give up on the love that had bloomed between them.
The choice wasn’t easy.
But it was made together as their acceptance hung heavily over them.
Somewhere beneath the weight of it, they both believed they could hold onto and fight to work keeping what they had found together.