I check the tablet at the nurses’ station and give him a more punctual update. “She’s in the pediatric wing, room 304. Her mother’s still in the ICU, but she’s stable. The surgeon repaired Emily’s artery this morning. Both her and her mother are going to be fine.”
“That’s great,” Josh says, and the genuine relief in his voice makes me like him even more. Another alarm bell to ignore.
I lead him through a shortcut by radiology, swiping my badge to unlock a few limited-access doors.
“You stabilized her at the scene?” I ask as we step into an empty elevator.
He nods, lowering the flowers so they don’t hit the ceiling. “Yeah. The seat frame had her pinned, keeping pressure on the wound until we freed her. Then it became a race against time.”
He goes for an easy tone, but shadows dance behind his eyes. It’s the same darkness I’ve seen in the mirror after tough cases. The one that says: I almost lost this one.
“Well, you won the race. Good job, Lieutenant.”
He gives a low, reluctant grunt—possibly self-conscious?—right as the elevator doors open, stealing the moment. He is so darn cute.
At Emily’s room, I stop at the threshold, letting Josh go in alone. He’s hers now, and I don’t want to intrude. I still watch from the hall as her face transforms when she sees Josh walking in with his field of sunflowers and lavender. Her eyes widen, her mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ of surprise, and then she’s beaming. It’s a scene that would break the internet if someone took a video.
“You came!” Emily squeals, her voice carrying into the hallway. She’s propped up in bed, her right leg elevated and wrapped in bandages, an IV still running into her arm, but her face has color now. Life.
“I promised, didn’t I?” Josh moves to her bedside and presents the flowers with a theatrical bow. “Sunflowers and lavender, as requested.”
“They’re perfect,” Emily breathes, reaching out to touch a sunflower petal with reverent fingers. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I always keep my word,” Josh tells her with such gentleness it’s almost invasive—to my heart, to my soul.
I lean in the doorway, wondering why I do this to myself. Why I hover at the edge of something I won’t let myself have, infatuated with a man I’ve decided I can’t keep. It’s a peculiar form of self-torture, watching Josh be everything I want and don’t want.
“Mom’s going to be okay,” Emily tells him, her smile wobbling. “They said she has to stay in the ICU for a while, but her brain scans look good. My dad’s gone to see her now.”
“That’s fantastic news.” Josh places the flowers on the windowsill where they’ll get plenty of light. “And how about you?”
“The doctor said I can start physical therapy in a few weeks.” Emily nods. “And I’ll have a cool scar, which”—she lowers her voice—“is kind of awesome. Zack Fisher never talks to me at school, but I bet he will once he hears I almost died.”
Josh laughs, and I smile, too. It’s amazing how resilient kids are.
“What about you?” Emily says with teenage bluntness. “Are you single?”
“Err…” Josh glances my way—something complicated passing through—before answering, “Yeah. I am.”
Emily winks. “You won’t be much longer if you always bring bouquets this beautiful.”
Josh glances at me again, more questions hanging between us. “I wish flowers were all it took.”
A flush of heat creeps up my neck. Am I reading too much into this? Suddenly, I find the floor tiles fascinating.
They chat for a few more minutes as Emily talks about art class and Josh listens.
He’d be a great step-parent for Penny. My brain goes there uninvited. But I refuse to follow.
Then a nurse appears, announcing it’s time to check Emily’s vitals.
“I should let you rest,” Josh says, backing toward the door. “And Emily, you don’t need a scar to impress a boy. If he doesn’t like you for who you are, he’s not worth your time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Emily blushes, suddenly looking very young.
Josh nods, smiling and waving goodbye.
He joins me at the doorway, and we walk back together to the elevator.
