Two weeks later…
“What did you do?” I accused into Porter’s mouth as I slipped the bra straps down my arms.
“Nothing,” he mumbled, trailing openmouthed kisses up and down my neck.
My bra hadn’t even hit the floor before he took my nipples between his fingers, plucking and rolling.
Gripping his shoulders for balance, I threw my head back and opened my legs.
His hand slipped down and popped the button on my jeans open. Then he scooped my panties out of the way before his fingers dipped inside.
“Yesss,” I hissed, teetering on the edge of my desk.
It was after hours and we were there to clean my office out, but the moment the door shut and we had the barest hint of privacy, that notion had quickly dissolved.
After much debate, Greg and I had decided that it would be best to take on another doctor at North Point Pulmonology. Travis was still in the hospital, waiting for a heart, and while I definitely needed more time off to take care of him, the fact of the matter was that I was never going back to work.
At least, not in the same way I’d been working over the last few years.
I had a family now. People who needed and depended on me. People who weren’t my patients. I would never give medicine up. I loved it and it was the only thing that had kept me sane for all those years when Lucas had been missing. But it was time for a change.
My job was never going to be nine to five. People didn’t look at the clock before they got sick. But there was such a thing as balancing my professional life and my home life. I’d decided to cut back on my patient load, and if I wanted to cut back on my on-call hours too, we’d need more help.
Dr. Franklin was an amazing addition to our team, but until we could find a new building for our growing practice, she needed an office. And, because I was extending my leave of absence, I’d offered her mine.
Though, given the clench I was currently in with Porter, I was probably going to need to sanitize the desk for her before I left. But I couldn’t bring myself to care. After weeks of passing like two ships in the night, I wasn’t about to delay that moment in search of a bed.
“Fuck, you’re ready for me,” he breathed, gliding his fingers inside me.
I moaned and pressed my lips to his mouth. “So, let me get this straight,” I whispered, sliding my hand down to his zipper and then over his hard length. “Brady just happened to change his motion from full custody to joint custody one day before we’re slated to go to court?”
“Dear God, are you seriously talking about Brady right now?” he rumbled, stilling his hand.
I moved my assault to his neck, kissing my way up before nipping at his ear. “Admit you had something to do with this.”
“I had something to do with this,” he replied immediately. Then he removed his fingers and snatched my pants down my legs.
“I knew it. Have you been talking to Travis about him too? He’s been so much more open to Brady recently.”
Porter groaned. “Woman, I have not been inside you in five days. For the love of all that’s holy, stop talking about Brady and the kids.”
I giggled, but it morphed into a moan as he freed himself from his jeans and guided himself into my opening.
Reclining across the desk, I arched my back and circled my hips as he planted himself deep. And then there were no more words as our bodies took over and relished in the connection we both so desperately needed.
Over the last few weeks, we’d had our ups and downs. Travis was sick of living at the hospital, but his body was too weak to go home. His frustration was palpable, and he’d started taking it out on all of us. We’d been doing our best to keep him comfortable, but come on…hospitals suck.
Hannah was also having a hard time adapting to the disruption in her family. She missed Porter and Travis more than her young mind could express, and it wasn’t long before she, too, started acting out. I felt so bad for Porter. He had two children who desperately needed him, but there was only one of him. And, regardless of how hard he tried, he couldn’t be everywhere. I pitched in as much as I could, but there was no substitute for their dad.
And the kids weren’t alone in their struggles to adapt. Porter and I had both taken turns falling into the lows of fear and worry. But, through it all, we’d leaned on each other.
When I broke, Porter was there to pick up the pieces.
And, when Porter lost sight of the light, I was there to hold him in the darkness.
No questions.
No judgments.
No faking it.
No apologies.
Our lives were far from perfect, but the fact that we were living and not standing still as the world turned beneath our feet made it perfect to us.
Porter came on the muffled groan of my name, and moments later, I followed him down in a crash of ecstasy.
“Jesus,” he breathed, peppering kisses over my face and neck.
Smiling, I raked my nails up and down his back. His skin pebbled and he squirmed as I teased at his sides.
“Ya know…I only promised her an office. I didn’t say anything about there being a desk.”
“Excellent call. We can throw this baby in the Tahoe and put it with the couch from my office. I can see it now. The bonus room could become a shrine for all the places we’ve had sex.”
“That wouldn’t be awkward at all,” I teased.
“I have it on good authority that you like awkward,” he mumbled, begrudgingly pulling out of me as he started to soften.
After a long discussion, I’d finally given in and agreed to move in with Porter. It really did make sense. I was still terrified, but it had been next to impossible to tell him no when I could feel his excitement vibrating in the air between us. Since I had until the end of the month to be out, we’d decided to slowly move my stuff into Porter’s house. But, a few days later, I’d learned that the word slow had a vastly different meaning to him. One afternoon, after I’d come home from the hospital to take a shower, I’d boxed a few things up to start the merger of our lives. I’d given Porter my keys and asked him to pick them up on his way home. The next day, I’d walked through my front door to find a herd of professional movers and a nearly empty apartment.
We’d fought—okay, fine. I’d fought. Porter had just smiled. A lot.
We’d been officially living together for over a week and not once had we slept under the same roof. One of us was always up at the hospital—usually me so Porter could stay at home with Hannah.
It was exhausting, but none of that mattered. Not as long as we had each other.
The office was empty as I walked back from the bathroom after having cleaned up. It was funny—I’d spent so much of my time in that building, years of my life spent growing that place into the thriving pulmonology practice it had become, but I wasn’t going to miss it.
Sure, I’d be back, but when I walked through those doors again, I’d be doing it as a different person.
The broken, lost-in-the-darkness version of Charlotte Mills was gone. And I couldn’t have been happier about the future without her.
Pushing my office door open, I found Porter standing at my desk, staring at his phone.
He didn’t look up as he said, “Six minutes. You go first.”
I smiled at the ridiculous game I knew he’d made up that day at the hospital to distract me. But such was Porter. He did a lot of things just to make me smile when it should have been impossible.
Swaying my hips, I sauntered over to him. “Six minutes from now, we’ll be in the car, on the way back to our house to drop this stuff off.” I ducked under his arm and pressed my front against his side while circling my arms around his waist.
He finally looked up from his phone and it felt as though the air had become electrified. His face was tight, and his jaw was clenched. But his eyes—God, I will never forget his eyes—were filled with light.
“Porter?” I whispered.
“Six hours from now, we’ll be sitting in the recovery room with Travis. Listening to the sound of his new heart beating on a monitor.” His voice broke and his shoulders shook, but it was a loud and joyous laugh that sprang from his throat.
Nerves and excitement ignited inside me as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. “What?” I breathed.
He smiled down at me. “They’re prepping him for surgery now. We need to get up to the hospital.”
My face crumbled, but through it all, a smile grew on my lips. “Seriously?” I asked in disbelief that it was finally happening, and hopefully for real this time.
Porter’s eyes filled with more love than I had known existed in the world only a few months earlier. And then he dipped low, and with one touch of his lips, he transferred it all to me.
“Seriously, sweetheart.”
We were alone in the darkness.
The place where it had all started.
And the place where we were desperately hoping it would end.
I was in his lap, our breaths mingling as silence filled the air.
There were no confessions to make.
It had been four hours since the nurse had come in to tell us that they had started the surgery.
And two hours since she had come back to inform us that his heart had been removed.
With the exception of the day when I’d realized he’d gone missing, I’d never been more terrified in my life. Whether his body accepted the new heart or not, there was no turning back.
But that was exactly the thing with our lives—none of us wanted to go back. Our hopes and dreams were all about the future laid out in front of us.
Images of Travis graduating high school and attending his first prom illuminated the backs of my eyelids.
Visions of Porter holding my hand as he grew older, his hair turning gray but his infectious smile never fading.
Hannah blossoming into a young woman who loved sleepovers, makeup, and giggling about boys until three a.m.
And me experiencing it all right along with them, embracing every moment of the beauty I never thought I’d have.
Porter nuzzled my jaw and I closed my eyes, reveling in the warmth as it cascaded over me, driving out the chill of reality.
No questions.
No judgments.
No faking it.
No apologies.
We both jumped as the door cracked open.
The darkness parted to make way for the light.
Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never harm me.
Lies.
Syllables and letters may not be tangible, but they can still destroy your entire life faster than a bullet from a gun.
However, they can also heal your wounds, tethering parts of your heart back together when all hope seemed lost.
Words weren’t always the weapon.
They were sometimes the sweetest remedy.
Nine words. That was all it took to bathe my entire world in the brightest light imaginable.
“He did great. Everything’s going to be just fine.”