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Michael smiled. "No," he said and pointed behind him. I checked out the Mercedes and Sam was getting out. "Sam was kind enough to drive Drake's car back."
Heat rose in my cheeks when I saw her. She walked up the driveway and handed the keys to Drake, who accepted them, a crooked smile on his face.
"Here you go, Doctor Dizzy," she said, smiling at him. She stood across from Drake, and she was almost as tall as him, her eyes almost on the level with his. She turned to me, an unreadable expression on her face. "At least he's a fun drunk," she said, smiling at me in a condescending way. "It's good to let your hair down now and then."
"Thank you so much for driving my car back," he said, before turning back to me. "Don't be mad," he said. "I forgot to eat lunch we were so busy and then I drank a bit too much…"
Michael assisted Drake into the house and let him sit on the sofa. Once he was seated, Drake let out a huge sigh, his head falling forward, chin to his chest.
Before he left, Michael turned to me, laying one arm on my shoulder. "Don't be too hard on him, Kate. He had a really rough day. Lost a pediatric patient he'd been caring for. It hit him hard. I think the boy reminded him of Liam. He needed to unwind."
Michael nodded as if that made everything right and left, Sam following him down the driveway to his car.
I closed the door and took in a deep breath. That did make it understandable, but I was still jealous that he'd been drinking and actually got drunk with Sam. I remembered her comment at the mixer that Drake was fun when drunk. I stifled that jealousy and instead went to Drake, sitting beside him. I took his hand and he glanced up at me, his eyes bleary.
"I'm so sorry, Katie," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I know I'm really late. I didn’t mean to be."
"I know," I said and nodded. I leaned up to him and kissed his cheek. "Do you want me to grill you a steak?"
He shook his head. "Save them for tomorrow. I had a burger at the pub. I really need to crash."
He struggled up to his feet and swayed for a moment so I took his arm and led him to the bedroom. He went to the en-suite bathroom and leaned on the countertop for a moment as if trying to steady himself. Then, he brushed his teeth, watching me as I leaned against the doorjamb, watching him.
"Don't be mad at me," he said, his mouth filled with white foam. "I had a bad day."
"I know," I said once more. "Michael told me you lost a young patient."
He nodded and closed his eyes, standing still for a long moment as if fighting his emotions.
"He made me think of Liam. Kate, I want a son but I'm afraid…"
I nodded and went to him, threading my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his back.
"Just because Liam had cancer doesn't mean all your children will."
"I couldn’t take it. It was hard enough with Liam. What would I do if it was our son that we raised? Or our daughter?" With that, he shook his head, his eyes tightly closed.
I couldn't image it. "It won't happen," I said, although I didn't know that for sure. It seemed unlikely that two of Drake's children would have leukemia.
Drake sighed once more and rinsed his mouth, then turned to embrace me. We stood in the bathroom for several long moments, holding each other and despite being stood up for dinner and sex, I couldn't be angry with Drake. Losing that young boy he was caring for hit him hard and he dealt with it the only way he knew at the moment.
I started to take off his clothes, his jacket, undoing the cuffs of his deep blue shirt. He stood mute and watched me, his eyes on my face.
"You're so good to me," he whispered. "I spent the entire evening with Sam and you aren't even mad."
"You were also with Michael and the other residents, right?" I said, keeping my voice light. "Why would I be mad?"
He shook his head. "I wish she wasn't here doing her residency. I didn’t want her to come. You have to know that."
"I do," I said softly and forced a smile.
"Did Mr. deVilliers hit on you today?" he said, his eyes half-hooded while I removed his belt.
"Not really," I said, remembering that Sefton was coming on the safari.
"What does that mean, not really? Half-heartedly? I don’t like to think of him pestering you, Katie. I'd like to punch his lights out."
I laughed at that. "That's the booze talking. What was it this time? Guinness or vodka?"
