Chapter 29
Karina
ONE YEAR LATER
It’s been a year since Vulcan and I exchanged vows.
A year since I fell in love with a man who made me believe in fairy tales again.
I trace my fingers along the wedding band on my left hand, still marveling at how natural it feels there.
Some mornings I wake up and have to remind myself this isn’t a dream—that Vulcan Montgomery actually chose me, loves me, wants forever with me.
But love’s tricky when you’re married to a man whose schedule is just as hectic as your own.
Vulcan’s days are long, and we’re like ships passing in the night.
I’m charting notes in my office when the door swings open. Dr. Stevens strides in, his face etched with a concern that mirrors the furrow of worry lines I feel carving into my forehead. What happened now?
“Karina, do you have a moment?”
“Of course,” I reply, setting the patient file aside. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Mr. Alvarez in 204. His vitals are falling, and I think we need to consider moving him to the ICU.”
I nod, my heart beating a little faster at the news.
Mr. Alvarez has been one of those patients who claw their way into your heart.
He is a lovely man, always going out of his way to make everyone who walks in and out of his room smile.
“Let’s go take a look,” I say, pulling my coat off the back of the chair.
We arrive at room 204, and I quickly consult his chart while Dr. Stevens explains our concerns to the attending nurse. As we make plans for his immediate care, my phone vibrates insistently in my pocket.
“Excuse me a moment,” I murmur to Dr. Stevens, who nods as he continues to give instructions.
I step into the quiet of the hallway and answer the call. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Vulcan’s deep voice comes through, immediately soothing some tension from my shoulders. “I’m sorry to call you at work—I know you’re swamped—but I just needed to hear your voice.”
A small smile tugs at my lips despite the chaos of my day. “It’s always good to hear yours, too,” I admit. “Everything okay on your end?”
He sighs, and I picture him running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, all fine here. I’m just wrapping up a board meeting about fire safety protocols.” I lean against the cool wall as he continues. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I confess softly. The distance between us isn’t just measured in miles, but also in moments missed, dinners left cold on tables, and morning coffees sipped alone.
I miss my husband, and I hate to admit this, but our marriage is now starting to feel like one of convenience.
The very thing we said we would overcome.
“We need a plan. Maybe a weekend away? Just you and me.”
“That sounds perfect,” I agree enthusiastically.
“Perfect. We’ll go over details tonight. I’ll make sure to leave work at a decent hour.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” His voice is laced with that authoritative edge that never fails to reassure me.
We exchange a few more words before I hang up and head back into Mr. Alvarez’s room. Dr. Stevens glances over as I step in. “Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yes, just a family call.”
The rest of the day flies by in a blur of patients, paperwork, and hurried consultations. By the time I hang up my coat and gather my things to leave, the sun has long since set. I check my phone, hoping to see a message from Vulcan, but there’s nothing.
My drive home is heavy with the weight of exhaustion but also with anticipation. As I walk through our front door, the house is quiet. There’s also the distinct absence of herbs and spices sizzling in oil. Which means he isn’t home yet.
I pull out my phone and try calling him, but it goes straight to voicemail.
I send a quick text and get an instant reply.
He won’t be able to leave work early after all.
He was asked to assist with some intradepartmental training, so I take it he’s still helping the new captains at the fire station in Long Island.
I let out a slow breath, feeling disappointed but not surprised.
I heat some leftovers and settle on the sofa, where I turn on the TV and watch some wilderness survival show.
The melodic tones of a British narrator drones in the background, but it’s difficult to focus on much after the day I’ve had.
The promise of a weekend together, a brief escape from the relentless commotion of our lives, is the only thing keeping me from pacing the living room in frustration.
I check my phone again, hoping for a message telling me he’s on his way home. The time on the TV reads 9:47 p.m. I stand to wash my dishes, and a sudden bout of irritation hits me.
This wasn’t what I envisioned when we promised to support each other’s careers. We’re both so caught up in our duties and responsibilities that it feels like we’re losing each other in the process.
My phone vibrates on the counter and I quickly dry my hands and grab it. Disappointment sets in as I glance at the screen to see Cassie’s name flashing.
Our communication has been sparse over the last two months since she took a job at the children’s hospital. So, this call comes at the perfect time.
“Hey, stranger. How’s the flashy new job?”
She chuckles on her end. “It’s been crazy but rewarding. I miss our old gang, though. How are you holding up?”
I pause, tempted to spill about my marriage struggles, but decide against it. She doesn’t need that dumped on her. “Oh, you know, just living the dream. If said dream involves running on fumes and charting patient notes at three a.m. in your sleep.”
“The ER life is something I don’t miss.” She laughs. “And how’s married life? Still having mind-blowing sex a year in?”
“Vulcan’s good. Actually, we’re planning a weekend getaway,” I say with a smile, bypassing the Cassie-level intrusive question and trying to sound more excited than skeptical. It’s looking less and less like that’ll happen.
“About time! You two workaholics need to make time for romance.”
“Yeah, if our schedules ever decide to play nice.” I snort. “Right now, they’re like arguing toddlers.”
“You know, if anyone can make it work, it’ll be Vulcan. That man will move heaven and hell just to be with you,” she says, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from complaining any more.
I let Cassie fill me in on her new job and crazy love life before we say our goodbyes, promising to catch up properly soon. The call managed to provide me with some hope though as I was reminded of how our love looks from the outside. I need to have a little more faith in my husband.
I wander over to my laptop and begin researching possible destinations for our getaway. As I scroll through charming bed-and-breakfasts and quaint small towns, images of couples strolling hand in hand as they browse farmers’ markets flood my vision.
A ping from my phone drags my gaze away from a rustic inn in the Catskills.
Vulcan: I’m sorry, baby. It might be a while, don’t wait up.
It’s not unexpected, yet it stings a bit more tonight. I reply with a simple acknowledgment and close my laptop. I need a hot bath. A small attempt at self-care. Lately, that seems like the only care I’ve been getting.
I slip off my clothes and sink into the warm water, sighing in relief as the heat envelops me.
Closing my eyes, I allow my mind to drift back to when Vulcan and I were inseparable.
When times were good, and he was only the fire captain at Station 112.
Before he started helping out another fire station all the way in Long Island.
As I soak, I can’t help but think about how different things are now. Vulcan’s work out in Long Island has meant a two-hour daily commute—if there isn’t any traffic. But even prior to being given the promotion, our schedules have clashed for months, leaving us with little time together as a couple.
And it’s not just our jobs that have caused a strain on our marriage. Lately, there’s been distance between us. A lack of communication, of understanding, of intimacy.
I let out a frustrating sigh and sink deeper into the water.
I hate to admit it, but I even miss my mother’s constant demands and nagging.
She’s reached out sporadically over the last year, but not as frequently as before.
Not wanting her negativity to ruin my happiness, I’ve miraculously been able to dodge her calls since the wedding—a wedding she still knows nothing about.
So it was strange when she texted yesterday, saying it was urgent.
Which probably means she has already blown through the three hundred grand.
Even my little brothers, who hardly ever make an effort outside of birthday and holiday calls, have been more present than ever.
Wanting to know how my day is going and what’s new with me, sending me articles on doctors traveling abroad to help in other countries, and letting me know how they finished up at the end of every semester.
All text messages have been left on read.
If they had done this a year ago, I would have welcomed them with open arms, but now I’m happy with where I am in my life and I just don’t want to invite that negative energy back in.
Vulcan’s words of affirmation, both in and out of the bedroom, have stuck with me.
I see myself as a powerful woman who no longer seeks her mother’s approval.
But on nights like these, when I’m alone with my thoughts, I wonder if I’ve made the right choices.
Yes, all she wants is money, but at least I could count on her relentless calls to keep me from feeling this way.
The penthouse without Vulcan is a lonely place.
A little while later, the sharp ring of my phone cuts through the tranquility. I consider ignoring it and staying wrapped in this warm embrace a bit longer, but something propels me to reach out with damp fingers and check the caller ID. Vulcan.