Chapter 82
Adrian and I linger at the café longer than I expect. After I tell him about the accident at work, the heaviness hanging between us slowly dissolves when he shifts the conversation to safer ground.
It’s comforting. Maybe a bit too comforting. The tight coil in my shoulders loosens, and I catch myself relaxing in a way I haven’t since that dinner at Aunt Ava’s.
“So,” I say, watching him tear a piece off his doughnut, “How long have you been an OB/GYN p>
He arches a brow, lips twitching like he’s fighting a grin. “Is this a trick question? Are you trying to find out if I’m experienced enough to be your doctor p>
A laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Depends,” I tease. “Do you have the experience, or are you just starting out p>
He leans back, studying me with that easy smile, and for one reckless second, I let myself meet his gaze. It’s lighthearted banter, harmless on the surface… but somewhere underneath, I feel my guard slipping, and that unsettles me more than I want to admit.
Adrian chuckles, brushing the crumbs from his fingers. “Let’s just say I’ve been at it long enough to know what I’m doing. No rookie mistakes on my record p>
“Oh?” I tilt my head, feigning suspicion. “That sounds like something a rookie would say.
His laugh is warm and rich. The kind that seems to settle in the space between us… And my God- That smile and those dimples. They may just be a weapon of mass destruction.
“You wound me. But if you’re really worried, I can give you a list of patients who’ll vouch for me. References and all p>
I shake my head, biting back a smile. “No need, I believe you p>
His teasing makes me laugh, something I didn’t think I had in me today.
“I had to ask because you look like you’re still figuring out how to shave without nicking yourself.” I joke,
He chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “Is that your way of saying I look young p>
I grin. “Maybe… Probably. You actually look like you’re just starting out p>
He smiles. “I’ve been in practice for about five years now p>
My jaw drops. “No way p>
“Way. I graduated high school early, so I had a head start. I Spent most of my younger years buried in textbooks… and now here I am p>
I find myself grinning. “That explains why you sound like you know what you’re doing p>
He leans back, eyes curious. “And what about you? You mentioned machines before. What do you do p>
The familiar comfort of talking about work steadies me. “Biological research. I work at Bio–Renew… it’s always fun. Well, except for today p>
Even saying it out loud makes my chest tighten. I still can’t believe how close I came. With how massive that machine was, I know without a doubt that if it had crashed down on me, there wouldn’t have been a chance of surviving.
A shiver creeps up my spine. We’ve never had anything like this happen before. Maybe that’s why it rattled me so badly. Why I still feel like the ground beneath me isn’t quite steady.
“Yikes,” Adrian says with a sympathetic wince. “I’m sorry you went through that. But other than today, I bet you love it, right? You seem like the curious type, so I’m sure this field suits you perfectly p>
I can’t help laughing, the sound easing some of the heaviness lodged in my chest. “You’re right. My curiosity about living things–bugs and plants especially–started when I was about eight p>
His lips tug into a grin, dimples flashing. “Bugs and plants? Sounds like you were every kid’s nightmare playmate p>
I shake my head, smiling despite myself. “I was.” I admit, remembering that one of the reasons Noah didn’t like me very much growing up was that, “While everyone else was playing house, I was poking at beetles with a stick and studying grass p>
Funny how, with being in Adrian’s company, I haven’t thought about Noah until now. In fact, it’s like everything I worried about, even the shock of this morning, slowly faded away in his company.
How’s that even possible? How am I so at ease with him when he’s basically a stranger?
Our banter settles me in a way I didn’t realize I needed. My pulse finally slows, the jittery panic from earlier giving way to calm.
Adrian leans back in his chair, watching me with a curious expression, as though he can read the shift in my mood. “You know,” he says lightly, “I should hang out with you more often. Apparently, I’m good at calming people down. I’ll add it to my résumé p>
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Oh, so now you’re not just an OB/GYN, you’re a professional stress reliever p>
“Exactly,” he says with mock seriousness. “Full package. Doctor, good listener, and occasional comedian. Very rare combination p>
My lips curve despite myself, and I can’t deny it. Rare is exactly what it feels like.
Silence descends on us for a little while before he breaks it again.
“And the baby? How are you really doing p>
I hesitate, then sigh. “The nausea is brutal. Like clockwork, morning or night, it doesn’t matter. It just… knocks ‘me flat p>
He nods knowingly. “That sounds rough. I can recommend a few gentle things that usually help p>
“Really?” I perk up, relief edging into my voice.
“Sure. If you’re not busy, you could swing by the clinic with me. I’ll write something up, and we’ll see if it makes things easier p>
I glance at my phone. “Honestly, I don’t have anything else to do. Might as well.
We finish our drinks, and when we step outside, my eyes widen at the sleek silver car parked at the curb. It’s polished and elegant. Having been around the Wood family, I know a luxury car when I see one.
He catches my look and shrugs casually. “Perk of working too much p>
“I’ll follow behind you,” I tell him, and he nods before sliding into the driver’s seat, his car purring softly as he pulls away.
At the clinic, he moves like he belongs, nodding at the staff who greet him warmly. He explains my options patiently and clearly, even jotting notes on a pad so I won’t forget. It’s clinical but never cold. His presence is steady and grounding, as though he knows exactly when to soften the edges of my anxiety.
By the time I finally leave hours later, I feel lighter. Not just because of his recommendations, but because of who he was and how he made me feel.
The sun is high by the time I pull into my street. I slow instinctively when my garage comes into view.
Parked at the entrance is a black SUV I don’t recognize. It’s dark and sleek, its tinted windows reflecting back nothing but sunlight.
My heart skips with unease prickling at the back of my neck. It’s not every day you find a strange car waiting outside your house.
The SUV isn’t running, but the way it sits there, angled deliberately, blocking my driveway, feels intentional. As if whoever it is wanted to make sure I don’t get into my garage without facing them first.
And looking at it, I get the feeling whoever it is has been here for a while.