They loaded Harold into the ambulance. Martha rode up front with Williams. Brian stayed in the back, monitoring vitals, adjusting the oxygen, and keeping Harold calm with steady conversation.
"You're good at this," Harold said between breaths.
"I used to be. Getting back into it."
"Why'd you stop?"
Brian hesitated. "Lost someone I couldn't save. Took it hard."
"But you came back."
"Yeah. I came back."
Harold nodded slowly, his breathing steadier now. "That takes guts. Running away is easy. Coming back is hard."
They delivered Harold to the ER, gave their report to the attending physician, and headed back to the station. Williams was quiet on the drive.
"You did good," she said finally.
"Thanks."
"Dawson said you had demons. Everyone does, in this job. The ones who pretend they don't are the ones who burn out fastest." She glanced at him. "You've got the look of someone who's made peace with his."
"Working on it."
"That's all any of us can do."
The rest of the shift passed in a blur. A minor car accident, no serious injuries. A kid who fell off a bike and needed stitches. An asthma attack at the elementary school. Nothing dramatic, nothing traumatic. Just ordinary emergencies, ordinary people, ordinary work.
Brian loved every minute of it.
He got home at six-thirty, exhausted in a way that felt earned. Tessa was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove that smelled incredible.
"How was it?" she asked.
"Good." He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Really good."
"Yeah?" She leaned back into him. "Tell me."
He told her. Harold and the heart attack. Williams and her sharp observations. The kid with the bike, crying more from embarrassment than pain. The asthma attack that resolved with a nebulizer and a calm voice.
"No bad calls?" Tessa asked.
"Not today. They'll come. I know that." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "But I'm ready for them now. Or I will be."
"I know you will." She turned in his arms, kissed him softly. "I'm proud of you."
"You keep saying that."
"I'll keep meaning it."
They ate dinner on the deck, watching the sun set over the water. The new sliding door gleamed in the fading light. The cottage was whole again, the damage repaired, the memories of that night slowly being overwritten by better ones.
"I called Chicago today," Tessa said.
Brian looked at her. "How'd it go?"
"Dr. Leland was disappointed. Said I was one of the best surgeons he'd trained." She shrugged. "I told him I appreciated that, but I'd found something better."
