Of course, it doesn’t work for everybody, but of the patients Alfie sees, less than five percent have re-offended in the last two years. It’s pretty remarkable.
As soon as my mentor—Grace—stops jumping around, I pull my phone out to call Alfie.
“Hey,” he says cautiously.
“You need to change my contact name on your phone.”
“Oh my God.”
“Also…I quit,” I say, laughing.
“Oh my God. Mia! Congratulations. I am so fucking proud of you, you have no idea, love.” He practically shouts down the phone.
I let out a throaty laugh, feeling tears in my eyes. Happy tears of course. “I’m coming home now. Will you be there?”
Home.
Weird, but true. I haven’t stayed in my house for weeks now, which I do kind of feel bad about since the couple asked me to house-sit. But I have been popping in every day so I can at least say it’s not been demolished or taken over by raccoons.
“Yeah, we’re going to celebrate. Do you have any plans, or can I keep you?”
My pulse quickens, his words making me happier than he could ever know. “Yeah, you can keep me.”
“Great, because I actually already made plans for us to celebrate. I hope you don’t mind. Given that Lana is away, I’ve arranged an evening with the Dinner Club tomorrow night, but tonight you’re all mine.”
???
I slip the key Alfie gave me to his house into the lock and twist. The lights are low, but the warmth of the fire caresses my cheeks the second I step through the door. As I make my way to the living room, candles are lit on every available surface, creating a warm glow. I look around, my mouth parted slightly. Did he do all this for me?
“Hey, Dr. Sinclair.” He smiles, leaning against the doorway that leads into the kitchen.
“Hi, Dr. Adams.” I grin back.
“Are you hungry?”
Yeah, I’m hungry for something, but I’m slightly concerned if I jump on him now, we’ll be carried out by the fire department when we inevitably leave the candles unattended.
I nod, reaching out my hand to meet his outstretched palm.
He pulls me in close, cupping my face and kissing me softly. It feels like he’s pouring all his love into it, trying to tell me something he’s not quite yet ready to say.
But I am.
I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a while. And I need him to know that I’ll wait for as long as it takes. But he’s mine, forever. I don’t want to do this job without him by my side. I certainly don’t want to live my life without him.
“I love you,” I whisper when he breaks the kiss.
His eyes widen slightly, and as he goes to speak, I stop him. “It’s okay if you’re not ready. I just wanted you to know. You’re a wonderful person, and I’m so happy with you. I don’t ever want to be without you.”
“I don’t want to be without you either. Mia, I—"
He pauses, frowning before dropping another kiss to my lips. It’s harder now, his message deepening. I know he feels the same way. I know in my soul that he does. And I can be patient. Words don’t really mean anything; actions do. And I feel his love from the heat of the candles he lit for me, from the smell of the dinner he is cooking, from the kiss that’s penetrating my soul. Of course I want to hear him say the words, but Alfie’s told himself nearly his whole life that he can’t afford to have a love like this. That if he does, his patients and his career will suffer. I can be patient. Even though I’m moving on from my issues, it doesn't mean we’re in the same place.
“How do you feel about reheated paella?”
“It’s a bit risky, isn’t it?”
“Too risky?”
