The hospital had its own rhythm of sorts. A slow pace of feet on the polished floors, the muffled beeping of equipment, and the muted murmur of voices behind doors.
Cole was used to this rhythm over the years. But now there was something, or someone in particular, who kept disrupting it.
Alice.
He wasn't supposed to see her here. Not like this. This fake-wife arrangement was slowly turning into something he hadn't planned on.
To make matters worse, she came into his territory, his immaculately guarded territory of traumatic patients, life-and-death decisions, and walls he'd built years before Sophie was even born.
But she was here, too. Zooming between pediatrics and the cafeteria, or hanging out near the nurses' station, pen lodged behind her ear, hair pulled back in a sloppy bun that still looked. Effortlessly beautiful.
And it wasn't even just her looks. It was the way she was.
She had stopped by the house earlier in the morning stopped by the house and helped Sophie get ready for school as she had agreed to.
He'd watched her brush back Sophie's hair into a ponytail for school, her voice soft, calming. She'd smiled at Sophie like Sophie was the most important person on planet earth and Sophie'd smiled too, the kind of smile that was not as frequent since Eliana left.
Alice hadn't gone out of her way to be Sophie's surrogate mother for the sake of the circumstances they'd developed something greater without even noticing it.
And greater even than her givingness, greater even than her smile was the single thing Cole couldn't shake.
---
By mid-afternoon, he was leaning over one patient's file in the trauma unit when he heard her laugh down the hall.
"Who is laughing with her like that?"
His head swiveled before he was able to catch up with himself. Alice was walking by with an armful of files, in the pale blue pediatrics scrubs, her ID badge banging against her chest.
She looked up and smiled as she waved at him.
"Dr. Cole," she drawled with that teasing note she'd been getting more of lately, the one that softened his name.
"Alice." He tried to keep his tone professional, but warmth crept in that he could not hold back.
She slowed just enough to gaze up at him. "Your ex-wife called me yesterday."
He stiffened, his face knotting. "She called you?"
Alice re-arranged the files in her arms, her face expressionless. "No, don't worry. I am just kidding"
She called you, did she? And then you talked to her about me?"
"You mentioned it this morning and I told you we would talk later"
"Right…" He remembered now the conversation that had been as hurtful as it was unexpected.
----
Two nights previously, Eliana had called, after Sophie had retired to bed. His phone lit with the name of Eliana. He'd almost not answered it, but curiosity and a splash of fear got the better of him.
"Who is the woman caring for my daughter?" she'd insisted with no pleasantries.
"Alice is her name and it is not your concern what she does."
"She is not Sophie's mother."
"No one is trying to replace you, Eliana." "She is kind and caring for Sophie"
There had been a silence. "She sounds… nice. But, I do not wish her to be near my daughter
"Don't mind, she's nice and you don't have a say in what happens to Sophie"
That was it. He hadn't told Alice because it hadn't been required. Until now.
---
Cole rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes. Eliana asked about you. I told her the facts that you're here to help Sophie. and that nobody's replacing her.".
"Good," Alice said, her voice lighter now. "Because I'm not trying to take over as Sophie's mom, Cole." She smiled faintly. "I just… care about her. She's easy to love."
He felt something twist in his chest. "Yeah. She is."
They stayed there for a fraction of a moment longer than they should have, the sounds of the hospital fading into the distance. There was a pull between them, something neither of them had named yet, but it existed unspoken and inescapable.
----
Later that evening, finishing off his final surgery of the night, Cole was closing things out in the ped lounge when he discovered Alice sitting cross-legged on one chair, unwinding her bun as she drummed a pencil against the clipboard.
"OMG! She's so beautiful right now"
"Long day?" he asked, glancing at the doorway over for something to lean on.
She smiled tiredly up at him. "You could say that. A four-year-old had the idea to stuff a marble up his nose. Twice."
He grinned, stepping closer. "That's talent."
She set the clipboard on the bed. "You must be tired too. Busy day today?"
"Yeah," he said, but his gaze remained on her instead of on the chart in front of him. "Alice… you've been amazing with Sophie. I just wanted to say I appreciate it."
Her smile softened. "I'm just doing what feels right. She deserves to feel safe."
Something in his chest tightened again. She wasn't just saying that, she meant it. And that was dangerous, because he was starting to realize how much he wanted her to stay.
----
The week passed in small things like that, reflecting the other way in the hallways, sharing quiet smiles, their fingers touching as they passed a cup of coffee. It was nothing anyone else would ever even notice, but Cole noticed. And so did Alice.
They were in the kitchen one night, after Sophie had already gone to sleep. Cole was pouring water. Alice was grabbing tea. They noticed each other in the light that was turned down and didn't step back.
He wanted to say something, something that would explain his heart rate. But then she stepped back.
"I should be sleeping," she whispered.
"Right. Sure.".
"It's okay if I crash over again?"
"Of course, you know you can spend the night here anytime."
But as she whirled away, she caught his hand with hers, and the contact lingered a fraction of a second too long.
----
The next day, at the hospital, Cole was filling out a chart when one of the nurses called him.
"Dr. Kingston, we need you in trauma room two. It's an emergency."
He was halfway to the pediatric ward when he saw Alice hurrying towards it, her face pale, a chart clutched in her hand.
She passed him a brief glance down the corridor. Something in her expression made his stomach drop.
"Alice?" he cried out after her.
She faltered, divided. Then with a jerky shake of her head, she disappeared into the pediatric ward, without speaking a word.
Cole was frozen there for a moment, torn between the crisis that was shouting out his name and the sudden, unshakable feeling that whatever had just pulled her from… was a little creepy.