The trauma room smelled vaguely of antiseptic and adrenaline. Cole's hands moved automatically, gauze, sutures, clamps. The victim on the table had been in a car accident, and for thirty minutes there had been no space in his mind for anything but the effort to save a life. But beneath the monotonous drone of his focus, one image continued to surface: Alice's pale face as she had rushed away.
By the time he had the patient stabilized, his chest was tight with a new kind of urgency. He stripped off his gloves, scrubbed down quickly, and checked the time. Alice's pediatric shift should still be going on.
He did not even try to pretend this was idle curiosity. Something had been wrong. And Cole had learned both in the ER and life that ignoring that feeling usually ended in regret.
---
He found her in the pediatric observation bay, sitting in a tiny chair beside a miniature bed. A young boy lay there, asleep, his chest rising and falling in slow, labored breaths. The chart was in her lap, but her eyes were on the boy's face, her lips pursed in a way that indicated she was holding something in.
"Hey," he said softly.
She startled a little, glancing behind her. "Cole. I hadn't realized you had finished up."
He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice. "You were in such a rush earlier. I thought…" He hesitated. "I thought something might be wrong."
Alice looked at the boy, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. "He was admitted an hour ago. Asthma attack. Severe. His mother holds down two jobs and wasn't home at first, she got here twenty minutes ago, sobbing. It just… " She swallowed. "It made me realize how fast life can turn and the tragedy I have had to face"
Cole's eyes softened. He'd seen it before how some cases crawled under your skin and stayed. But, what loss was she referring to?
"Alice, sorry to ask but, what loss are you talking about?"
She looked up at him then, and for the first time that day, she met his eyes. "I know you've seen worse," she said gently. "But it still gets to me. I guess I'm not used to…"
"I am sorry but I don't want to burden you"
"It's okay. You can tell me whatever it is" Cole said with deep sympathy.
There was a sadness in her voice that resonated deep inside of him. "You do wear your emotions well, Alice. That's what makes you good. That's what gets kids to trust you."
Her mouth curved a little. "And what gets me home exhausted."
"Yeah," he said, his mouth twitching at the corner. "That too."
---
The boy stirred, and Alice's hand moved instinctively to smooth his blanket. Cole watched the gesture, his chest tightening again but not this time in worry. It was that same pull he had been trying to ignore all week.
She turned to him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
He became aware, looked away. "I'm not."
"You are," she breathed. "Like you're… seeing something."
Cole didn't answer right away. He was staring at something; staring at her, not as the substitute he had hired, not even as the friendly, competent nurse he kept meeting in hospital corridors. But as someone who was quietly transforming Sophie's world for the better. Someone who faced suffering and didn't flinch. Someone who made him want to let his guard down.
And he hadn't let anyone that close in a very long time.
---
The steady beeping of monitors and soft humming broke the silence between them until Alice spoke up again.
"You know…" she started slowly, "when we first met, I thought you were... ."
"A jerk?" he guessed, half-smiling.
She laughed. "Intimidating. Like you'd built this wall around you. I figured you had the money, the powerful job, the complete control over everything. But now…" She shook her head, her voice gentler. "Now I see a man who's given up a lot for his daughter. A man who spends his days saving lives and his nights trying to make one little girl feel secure. That's not scary. That's… something different altogether."
Her words hit him harder than he expected.
He took a breath. "I built the wall for a reason, Alice. But maybe… you're not the kind of person it's meant to keep out."
She blinked, caught off guard. "Cole…"
Before she could answer, the boy's mother stepped in to check her son, breaking the moment.
---
Hours later, they left the hospital together, the night air cool on their skin. The parking lot was quiet, lit by tall streetlights that threw pale circles of light. Sophie was sleeping over at a friend's house, so they had a rare moment of time to themselves.
They walked side by side, their steps slow.
"Hungry?" Cole asked.
"Starving," Alice admitted. "But all I have at home is frozen waffles.".
He smiled. "Then it's a good thing I'm a surgeon, not a cook. I'd try to impress you with my culinary skills and end up creating a mess."
Her laughter was subdued but warm. "Oh! Please, your pasta the other night was delicious. With no cooking, then what's the option?"
"Takeout," he said briefly.
Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting on his back porch, cartons of Chinese food on the table between them, the skyline of the city glimmering in the distance.
---
Alice played with her noodles for a moment before she spoke. "You don't do this very often, do you?"
"Do what?"
"Let people in."
Cole laid down his chopsticks, leaning back in his chair. "Not since Sophie was born. Not in any real way."
She studied him silently. "You're not just protecting her, are you? You're protecting yourself."
He didn't argue. "When Eliana left… it wasn't just a case of losing her. I was made aware of how much I could lose again. I'm not capable of risking Sophie's world being shaken like that a second time."
Alice's voice was barely above a whisper. "And you think I'd be the one to shake it?
He looked at her then, actually looked at her. "No. That's the problem. I think you will make it better. Which makes me want you to stay. And that… scares me more than anything."
---
The words seemed to hang in the air between them like a truth neither of them had been ready to say aloud.
Alice's heart was beating more than she liked. "Cole…" She hesitated, searching for words. "I've told you before, I'm not trying to be her mother. But I do care about Sophie. And whether you want me to or not… I'm starting to care about you too."
Something in his face changed, something unguarded, almost raw.
Before he could say anything, his phone shrilled on the table. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening.
"It's the hospital," he said.
She nodded, pushing her food aside. "Go."
But as he answered and walked away, his voice indistinct but urgent, she heard enough to know something was wrong.
When he came back, his face was serious. "That car crash victim from earlier, his condition just took a turn. They need me back."
"I'll come with you," she said without thinking.
He started to protest, then stopped. "Okay."
---
They drove back in near silence, the silence of everything that had gone unsaid between them. In the ER, the air was thick with tension. Cole went to work immediately, but Alice stayed close, helping where she could, her presence steady and firm.
After an hour, the young boy was stable again.
Cole found her in the hallway, leaning against the wall, exhaustion in her eyes but relief in her smile.
"You didn't have to stay," he whispered.
"You know I did," she said. "But I wanted to."
They just stood there, looking at each other, until footsteps echoed and interrupted once more.
---
It was nearly midnight before they finally left the hospital for the second time. They didn't say much in the car, but when they reached his driveway, Cole turned to her.
"Alice… earlier, when you said you're starting to care" He paused, searching for something on her face. "I need to know if this is all just part of the bargain for you. Or if it's… something else."
Her heart was pounding. She took a breath to answer but headlights lit up the driveway, pausing her.
A black vehicle pulled up beside them. The driver's door opened and a woman stepped out.
Even in the poor lighting, Alice identified her from the photographs Cole had shown her.
Eliana.