"Perfect. I'll finish homework by two." Emma headed to her room.
Once the door closed, the apartment became nice and quiet. Mireya sipped her coffee while I leaned against the counter, and we both smiled at the energy Emma always left behind.
I walked around the island and pulled Mireya into my arms, breathing in her shampoo mixed with coffee. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For being here. For staying. For treating Emma like she matters."
She pulled back to look at me, her brown eyes soft. "She does matter. Besides, where else would I go?"
“I don't know. Maybe a peaceful life without a CEO who can't cook and a sister who tries to burn the kitchen down?”
“That sounds pretty boring to me.”
“It sounds a lot safer.”
“Safety is totally overrated.” She gave me a quick, firm kiss. “Besides, you’re not that bad at cooking.”
“Wow, high praise.”
"I save real compliments for special occasions."
Mireya had officially moved in eight weeks ago. She didn't stay in the guest room anymore. She moved right into my bedroom. Her things were mixed with mine in a way that made the apartment feel like it belonged to both of us. Her medical scrubs were hanging next to my work suits. Her books were crowded onto my shelves. Her favorite chipped coffee mug sat right next to mine in the cupboard.
“I have a surgery at ten,” she said while checking her phone. “It’s one of Dr. Bree’s cases. My second one this week.”
"The valve replacement?"
"Mitral repair with complex reconstruction." Her eyes lit up the way they always did discussing her work. "She specifically requested me to assist."
Pride swelled in my chest. It wasn't that worried, protective feeling I used to have. It was genuine pride in what Mireya had achieved over the last six months. Her reputation at the hospital was hers alone. She had earned it through her own skill and all those hours spent proving herself in the operating room.
“You’re going to be amazing,” I said.
“I know.” She grinned at me. “But it’s still nice to hear you say it.”
“Someone’s getting cocky.”
“And you love it anyway.”
She was right. I loved everything about her—the way her confidence had grown and how she walked through the hospital with her head held high. I loved how easily she had stepped into my life and made it so much better just by being there.
My phone buzzed with a text from Cassian, reminding me not to be late to the board meeting at two.
I groaned.
"Bad news?" Mireya asked.
"Just a board meeting. Two hours of politics and budget discussions."
“My poor CEO.” Her voice was teasing, but she squeezed my hand gently. “How terrible for you.”
“Itisterrible. I really miss surgery,” I said. “But Cassian’s been stressing about the new surgeon coming in. You know him, he likes getting along with everyone. I think the new one is under his department, and they’d have to work closely together.”
“Ah, yes,” she replied. “I’m sure he’ll get along with whoever it is.”
Cassian had been talking nonstop about the new trauma surgeon. I didn’t know why, but the mention of it would always make him squirm.
