"I meant more generally." He shifted so he could see her face. "With the shop. With everything."
"What do you want it to look like?"
He was quiet for a long moment. "I think I want to say yes to the ambulance service too."
She lifted her head to look at him. "Yeah?"
"Volunteer, not full-time. Part of me, but not all of me. I don't know if I can be the guy who runs calls every shift again. But helping out when they're short-staffed, being part of something, using what I know to make a difference." He met her eyes. "Chief Dawson's been asking for months. The county EMS is stretched thin. They need experienced medics."
"That's huge, Brian."
"I know." He exhaled slowly. "A year ago, I would have told you I'd never touch a jump bag again. Six months ago, I would have said I'd think about it and then avoid Dawson for weeks. But now..." He shook his head. "I'm tired of running. You were right about that. I've been running from who I was because I was scared I'd fail again. But hiding from the job doesn't bring Lily back. It just means I'm wasting whatever good I could still do."
Tessa pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. "For what it's worth, I think Lily would be proud of you."
His arm tightened around her. "I hope so."
They lay in comfortable silence, watching the light change. Outside, the sound of the bay was a constant, gentle rhythm. Somewhere in the distance, a boat horn sounded.
"What about you?" he asked. "Your leave is almost up."
She'd been thinking about that more and more lately. The calendar was counting down. The looming return to Chicago. The life she'd left behind. But lying here, in this room that had become theirs, in this town that had become home, the answer felt clearer than it ever had.
"I already told you," she said. "I'm staying."
"I know. But what about work? What about your career?"
"I've been talking to Dr. Hendricks at the Copper Moon Clinic. They're looking for someone to help with urgent care. It's not trauma surgery, but it's medicine. It's helping people." She propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at him. "And it doesn't break me. That's the difference. I can have a life and a job instead of just a job."
"You'd really give up surgery?"
"I'm not giving it up. I'm choosing something different. Something sustainable. Something that leaves room for..." She gestured vaguely at the room, at him, at everything. "This."
Brian's smile was slow and bright, the kind that transformed his whole face. "So we're both starting over."
"Starting fresh," she corrected. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Starting over means wiping the slate clean, pretending the past didn't happen. Starting fresh means taking everything you've learned and using it to build something better." She kissed him softly. "We're not erasing Lily or my burnout or any of it. We're just deciding we're more than the worst things that happened to us."
"When did you get so wise?" he asked, echoing his words from the shop.
"I've always been wise. You just weren't paying attention."
He laughed and pulled her down for another kiss. "Deeply annoying," he murmured against her lips. "But I love you anyway."
She went still. They hadn't said those words yet, either of them. They'd danced around them, showed them in a hundred small ways, but the actual syllables had stayed unspoken.
"What?" He pulled back slightly, concern flickering in his eyes. "Too soon?"
"No." She shook her head, a smile spreading across her face. "Not too soon. Just right." She pressed her forehead to his. "I love you, too, Brian Knight. Even when you're grumpy before your first coffee."
"Especially then," he corrected.
"No. Definitely 'even when.' You're a terror before caffeine."
"Fair." He kissed her forehead. "But you keep stealing the good mug."
