50. Preston
CHAPTER FIFTY
preston
The car keys jangle in my hand as I swap them for the house keys. I’m halfway up the steps when laughter behind me makes me turn. My girls spill out of a taxi—Mia with a bag in her arms, Lily bouncing at her side.
“Hey, I expected you two to be inside.”
Mia hoists the bag higher. “We went out to buy sparkling juice to celebrate your friend being okay.”
“Yeah,” Lily chimes in. She runs straight into my arms, and I scoop her up, locking her in a bear hug. My eyes, though, stay fixed on Mia, and refuse to leave.
The gesture floors me. Sweet and more than I deserve.
How is it possible that someone I never wanted under my roof has brought me back to life and rearranged my world against my better judgment?
She’s put every piece in its rightful place.
Even my heart, once flatlined, is now hammering against my ribs.
We eat. We toast. My cheeks ache from the sheer contentment of being cherished.
Of coming home from work and finding a celebratory dinner, made by the most important person in my world…
and the one quickly claiming second place.
The woman who completes this picture, and who this night would not be the same without.
* * *
The shepherd’s pie is exactly the kind of comfort food I crave after a day that’s left me wrung out.
I pop the sparkling juice, foam spilling over my fingers and dampening the tablecloth.
I pour three flutes and watch as the bubbles tickle Lily’s nose when she takes a sip.
She wrinkles it hard, twitching side to side until the itch passes, making both Mia and me laugh under our breath.
I down the syrup-sweet liquid fast, refusing to let it linger. Mia, of course, moans her approval. “Not bad at all,” she says with that delight only sugar gives her. Ms. Sweet Tooth through and through.
The moment my fork lands on my empty plate, my pager beeps. Mia stiffens, but Lily only slumps on her stool, too used to the sound.
“Wha—”
“My dad has to go,” Lil cuts in. Her eyes tilt up to Mia, wide with hope. “But you’re staying here with me, right?”
“Of course.” Mia doesn’t miss a beat, scooting the stool closer, tucking my daughter under her arm. Just like that, my imminent absence is washed away. And I don’t resent it one bit.
No child wants to feel left behind. Only a blind or cowardly father would miss the facts lying in front of him. Lily’s scars are still fresh, whether she acknowledges them or not. One note for her therapist, a question for me: How can I better support my kid?
For now, I hold on to the one thing that matters—Lily isn’t crumbling—she’s steady under Mia’s arm, trusting that she won’t be left by herself even for a minute, waiting for the neighbor to once again rip her from the safety and comfort of her home.
That trust is what makes me believe, against every ounce of caution, that this arrangement might not just hold. It might actually give my daughter what she needs. And what I’ve begun to pine for longer than I care to admit.
* * *
I take an Uber to the hospital so I can read Kate’s updates on my way. The numbers couldn’t be better. I get there just in time to see my team wheeling her toward ICU—and to catch an earful of her complaints. My voice rises above hers.
“For a minimum of forty-eight hours, Dr. Katherine. Want to make it seventy-two? You know, my old boss used to say we could never be too careful.”
“Argh. Go to hell, Preston.” She sounds a little groggy, but she’s fully conscious. I checked. “You’ve done your job. Go home to your family. I won’t be able to sleep with all that beeping. I want a private room.”
I doubt Kate even knows what my family looks like anymore—we haven’t spoken outside of hospital walls in years. That was the job we signed up for. Or so I thought. The realization only strengthens my resolve to make things different from now on.
“What kind of hospital do you think this is?” I tease. “Your ICU room is private. Busy, yes. Beeping, always. But private. You’ll get a bigger, quieter one once you’re out of danger. Do I really need to explain all this to you, or are you just enjoying torturing my team?”
She flashes me the same diabolical grin she used to wear whenever she cornered us with one of her pop quizzes.
“Same Evil Kate. You’re not here to test my team.
I already did that, and I trust every doctor standing around your gurney.
Show them respect—or I’ll call the first-years.
My new class only started three months ago, and I’ve barely spent any time training them.
” I raise my brows. “That should be fun.”
“Fine,” she grumbles.
“Also, you refused to list an emergency contact. What the hell is that about? Where’s Dave? With the kids? Should I call and update him? What about your sister?”
“Dave is gone.”
My fingers freeze on the pages of her chart. I blink hard, once, twice, before finally lifting my eyes to hers.
She tuts. “Not gone-gone, Preston. The jerk’s alive—and far too well, if you ask me. He’s in LA, shacked up with Lucy’s ex-kindergarten teacher.”
“Fuck, Kate.” I let the file drop to my side. “I had no idea.” Then, forcing an edge of humor into the moment, I add, “Well… welcome to the divorcee’s club, my friend.”
“No way!” Her eyes pop and, if she weren’t fresh out of spine surgery, she’d be halfway upright in that bed right now.
We roll her bed into the ICU area. Her room’s ready—monitors, lines, the works. I had a sofa hauled in beside the visitor chair. There will be someone at her side until we clear forty-eight hours without any problems.
“What about the ba—”
Here it comes. The question everyone asks. The one I hate most.
“Not mine.” The words scrape their way out, rough.
Truth, but not the whole truth. Because he’s still Lily’s half-brother.
Which means I can’t wash my hands and walk away.
How do I protect my daughter and fight for her rights when the mess runs this deep?
I want to move on, but this fact drags me back.
“We’re not going to talk about this now.” My jaw locks as I cut her off.
The pity in her eyes tempts me to poke and pry about Dave, but I’m not that much of an asshole. I might be sleeping with the nanny, but I’m not that much of a cliché. “So the kids are with your sister, Christine? Give me her number.”
Her throat works, as she recites the number, before adding, “Please, just… don’t make it sound worse than it is.”
“I won’t lie. But I’ll give her a version the kids can handle—enough to prepare the girls without scaring them.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, rest. I’ll give you something to help.” Her brows bounce, hopeful, and I shut it down before she gets any ideas. “None of the good drugs, sorry. But enough to relax you. You’ve been through a lot.”
Her expression crumples.
“April?” I call, and my protégé steps forward. “Kate, meet the woman I was to you—the one in charge when I’m not around. The most brilliant doctor I’ve ever worked with.”
“Dr. April Hadden?” Kate asks before I can finish. April nods, a proud grin slipping at the recognition. “I know your name from all the papers you and Pres publish together. Pleasure to meet you. Wish it were under better circumstances.” She huffs, then winces.
“The pleasure’s all mine. I’ll keep you company this first round,” April says. “Then Dr. Calista Maverick—”
“My third in command,” I cut in. “Another brilliant doctor I’d trust with my life.” The tough, unshakable Cal sniffles behind me, taking the edge off the moment.
April keeps going, “Dr. Maverick will take over, and the rest of our team will rotate so you’re never alone, but we’ll do everything in our power to let you rest.”
I glance at April and Callie, finger raised in warning. “Any change, any change at all, page me, call me, knock my door down. Understood?”
By the time I finish the paperwork, call her sister, and check on her one last time, it’s past nine. Vitals solid, sleep steady.
I can go home again.
Lily will already be down. Mia, hopefully not.