“Hey.” I tilted his head up. “You’re not a reason. You’re my mate, and you’re carrying our child.”
“We’ll talk every day, and we’ll see one another when you can.”
I worried that being apart wouldn’t work and I’d be forced into making a choice.
“This reminds me of the first time I left you when we were in college.”
“Don’t bring that up again, love. I thought something and you thought something else and both us were sort of trapped by our shifter instinct that believed it was impossible to be together.”
Don’t blame me. I said you shouldn’t leave.
He’s not.
Stan’s flight was early the next morning. My car hadn’t been driven in weeks, so we took a cab to the airport. Our farewell was teary with promises to text and call as soon as he landed and to let me know what the baby was doing.
My wolf was demanding I either tell Stan to stay or I get on the plane with him. But I reminded him of how he loved being on the ice as much as I did, and he quieted.
“My fox is agitated at us parting.” Stan blew me a kiss and tugged his hand out of mine.
“I love you and our little one, forever and always.”
“Love you too.”
I wiped away tears as my mate walked backward and disappeared from view. I couldn’t let us being apart be fornaught. Today was about proving myself, and tonight I’d wallow in sadness and count down the days until I’d see my mate again.
14
STAN
The first time Axel went back, it had been emotionally difficult. Part of it was that I was worried, unsure he was going to get the care he needed and that he might not be ready to be back. Both those fears had become reality. Part of it was that we’d just figured out what we should’ve known all along, that we were meant for each other. It had been rough, despite being a relatively short period of time.
This time was different on so many levels. For one, I was pregnant. Despite working in the medical field, I didn’t realize how much pregnancy would impact every aspect of my life. It was intense.
I was no stranger to the nausea, the exhaustion, the ligament pain, and the backaches that came with pregnancy. I’d seen it all at the hospital, both with patients and with caregivers bringing patients in. I knew what could potentially happen, including the very worst outcomes. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was so very wrong.
The emotional side of pregnancy had thrown me for a loop. It shouldn’t have. I’d seen enough patients who weren’t acting in a way I would think was rational, though they thought it was perfectly sensible at the time. I’d attributed it to their personality and not their pregnancy. Some people were drama-filled. That didn’t end when they got pregnant.
I hadn’t taken into consideration how my emotional state would be impacted when the hormones went awry. Adding that on top of already missing Axel had me a teary-eyed mess far more often than I cared to admit to myself. There were times I didn't want to be around me.
Despite all the strategies I attempted, this whole long-distance thing was sucking terribly. Yes, we talked daily, but he was working hard and I was working hard. Despite seeing each other on Zoom for a few minutes or maybe an hour, it wasn’t enough.
In some ways, I was luckier than he was. The house still scented like him, and I was still able to hug his pillow at night. Axel went from place to place, traveling with the team. His rooms smelled like cleaning supplies and strangers, not his mate.
With the limited time we had together on Zoom, I tried not to complain too much, or at all, leaving everything simple:I miss you. I can’t wait to see you.And telling him anecdotes about my day. He didn’t need to worry about me on top of worrying about getting his skills back up to what they once were. It was one thing to be healed, another to make up for all that time off the ice. He was slaying it, though. I was so proud of him.
And if all that wasn’t difficult enough on its own, working at the ER while pregnant? Whoa. I’d been worried people would treat me differently, like I couldn’t do things, and I hadn’t experiencedany of that, even though there were days I wished I had. At least then I might get a break here and there.
Rushing down the hall to a trauma bay when I was off balance or hadn’t had enough to eat was intense. If this had been a human pregnancy, it might’ve been easier, but as a shifter, I was expending so much energy, and there was not enough food to keep my body going. One thing about my job was I didn’t get to schedule anything, including meals. I could be on my way with discharge papers only to be called away for a code. Anything goes in the ER, and I was so done with it.
Part of me said my struggles were just normal being-pregnant problems and I needed to get over it. But as much as I worked hard to convince myself of that, I kept thinking back to my aunt. Maybe nursing wasn’t the area of the medical field I belonged in. Maybe I was called to be a healer. Finally, I caved and called her.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” she said. “How’s everything holding up? With your mate gone?—”
And that was when I let it all out. I told her how miserable I was in all areas of my life: not seeing my mate, my work, coming home to an empty house, something that had never bothered me before but now intensely did. I talked her ear off for half an hour, not once letting her get a word in edgewise. Most people would’ve been frustrated with me or zoned out long before I finished. Not my aunt. She understood me better than most people and recognized that I needed this.
“Did you want to come spend time with me? I can make up a room for you and make your favorite cookies.”
Gods, I loved my aunt. Not a single ounce of judgment or trying to tell me what to do next. Nope. She was there for me in the way I asked her to be without pushing me at all.
