DANI
After not hearing from Vic all of Sunday, I knew something was wrong. After his confession, after our promises of commitment, there was no way he would simply vanish without a reason. But just to make sure, I had Emma send me one of Jameson’s GPS trackers when she sent me the dress for the gala. I needed something that didn’t need Bluetooth so it couldn’t be easily detected, and he’s the best, according to Evie. I won’t risk anything happening to him, us, or our future.
Still, I remind myself that we are not the reckless teenagers we once were. We’re adults now, bound by responsibility as much as by love. He was likely caught in the endless demands of his work, a busy surgeon saving lives while time simply slips away from him. With my new role demanding diligence, I rose early and went about my morning with the dedication this job deserves.
I won’t let silence unravel us the way it once would have. Not anymore. I refuse to fill the space between us with assumptions or fear. We’ll talk. We’ll face it, and each time, we’ll choose each other again. That is what it means to love him now, not as a girlclinging to reassurances, but as a woman standing firm in her place at his side.
Just as I’m thinking of him, a shadow falls across my desk. And when I look up, he’s standing there. Dark half-moons sit under his eyes as exhaustion clings to him, but when he smiles, it is somehow brighter than the weariness. He crosses the room, leans down, and presses a quick kiss to my lips. When he pulls back, his gaze drops to my computer screen, and I see the change as his face shifts and eyes widen in surprise. He reaches for the photograph of us on his desk, lifting it with care, as if it’s something precious to hold onto. He touches the frame with tenderness, reverently tracing the edge as if he is in that moment, frozen in time all over again. For a few seconds, he simply holds the picture, and when he looks up at me, his eyes are soft with apology, and I know it’s for all the time missed in between and a longing for what could have been. My eyes meet his in understanding, feeling everything unspoken between us.
“I’ve always loved that picture,” he murmurs, setting it gently back on the desk with such care, afraid it might shatter otherwise. His gaze drifts to the one beside it—the one of my mother. I watch the muscle in his throat tighten as he swallows hard.
“I’m so sorry, I wasn't there, Dani,” he says, eyes closing, as if the words themselves rip him apart. His voice trembles thick with grief and guilt, but it wasn’t ever a burden he was meant to carry. I ache at the sight of it. He blames himself. But how could he? He wasn’t supposed to know. I never wanted him to know, yet he still feels guilty over it. I never wanted him to glimpse my own darkness. I was always meant to be his light. He had his own burden to carry. I will not be the one to add more weight to his.
“I know, Vic.” I touch his hand, grounding him as I did in the past. He tilts his chin to the last remaining photo on my desk.
“Who are they?” he asks, as he stares at the group of strangers in the photo.
“It was my last day there, and they threw me a party.” My finger drifts across the glass as I list them in a single breath. “Emma, her husband Eduardo, Emma’s sister Evie, her boyfriend Jameson, their brother Mateo, Liv, and her husband Dax.” The names tumble out too fast as I point to each one. Vic picks up the picture, studying their faces, searching for something I don’t see.
He tilts his head. “But who are they to you, baby?”
I smile, taking the picture gently from his hands. “My family,” I say without hesitation, shrugging my shoulders because it’s the only way to describe them.
His lips curve, and he smiles knowingly. Because sometimes blood isn’t what binds, it’s the bonds we form through friendship, help, and healing. And this group? They’ve had my back more times than I can count.
“I’d love to meet them someday.” The corner of his mouth lifts in sincerity.
“I’d love that. I think you’ll like them.” But my mind drifts back to that night outside the club. The visual of a body cooling in the dark, and Eduardo’s boot striking the corpse before he spat on it, returns quickly and floods my mind. No one called the cops or even flinched. They just helped me. Calm and unbothered by it all, as if the ugliness of death is nothing new to them. It was proof of their loyalty. Proof that when the world turned violent and cruel, they stood by me, and in my choices, unafraid to carry the burden in the shadows of that alley together.
He leans over to kiss me, and I wrap my arm around his neck, pulling him deeper into it. When he finally pulls back, his eyes lock on mine, his voice low and raspy.
“I missed you, baby. I have so much to tell you about last night. Can you come home with me?”
I nod, and the faintest smile tugs at his lips before he gives me one last chaste kiss and straightens.
“Meet you out front?”
“Yes,” I answer softly, making sure he hears the certainty in my voice. I don’t want more confusion ever again.
“At five?” he confirms, and I nod again, sealing the promise between us. Then he’s gone, and I’m left with the lingering warmth of his mouth on mine. The quiet thrill of knowing that we’re no longer circling what we want. We are claiming it.
The day passesin a blur of patients and consults. I help where I can, set appointments for family members flying in, and ease the burden of those who must navigate the transition of a loved one into end-of-life care. Easing their burden is what makes me feel better about my job.
When my shift ends, I ride the elevator down to the lobby to find Vic waiting by the front windows, watching the traffic. I slip behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and lean into the familiar heat of his body. He exhales and turns, folding into me in a return hug that dissolves the stress of my day. “I missed you,” I tell him, because it’s true. I've missed this man for years. Now even hours feel too long to be apart. Every time I get the chance, I want him to know that.
“And I’ve missed you, baby.” He brings me into him and kisses the top of my head. His hand finds mine as we step out together toward his apartment. But after a few strides, Istop, tugging lightly on his hand. He halts immediately, turning toward me, with concern showing on his brow.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice careful and body tense as he waits for my reply.
I swallow, searching his eyes. “Vic, do you mind if we go to my house tonight?”
Relief flickers there. He nods, his eyes alight.
“Of course.” He nods, lips curving. He extends his hand toward me as though making the choice mine. “Lead the way.”
I smile knowingly, a slight flutter in my chest. “It’s not far.”
He chuckles lowly. “Of course it isn’t.” I flash him my best, award-winning smile, and he laughs. This time a little bit louder. We may be a little crazy, but only for each other. We walk fifteen minutes past Vic’s place until we get to my apartment complex. The building isn’t as nice as Vic’s, and there is no concierge at the door, but we manage to get in and take the elevator to the second floor. My view is of an alley, but if Vic notices, he doesn’t comment. The room is bright and cheery.
