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"That's too bad," I said and brushed hair out of Drake's eyes.

"No, it's really okay," he replied and glanced away. "I want to work tonight. I have a patient..."

Then he said nothing more and I knew he wanted to go in to check on a patient he worked on last night.

It must have been that patient that upset him so much.

"I understand," I said and turned back to my plate. We ate for a few moments and finally, he sighed.

"A boy, Nathan, about four years old."

"That must have been hard," I said softly.

"Yes. It was."

I nodded in understanding. "You want to be able to check on him, and working tonight will let you."

"Yes," he said. But that was it. He didn’t say any more so I knew it must have been a bad case. The boy must have been near death or maybe still was. A car accident, a bike accident, a brain injury from a fall at a playground – Drake had seen so many since he started working at the hospital ER. Usually, Drake took on cases that were a whole different kind – brain tumors, epilepsy, spasms. Trauma cases were a whole different world. He wasn't used to it yet and having a small patient nearly the same age as Liam would just be all the harder.

Finally, after another few moments of silence, Drake turned to me.

"How are you? How was your time at the studio?"

I smiled at him. "Great. I got two solid hours in on my waterhole piece."

"That's fantastic," Drake said and stroked my cheek, brushing a strand of hair back from my cheek. "I'm so glad you're getting to do what you love."

"Me, too," I said and squeezed his hand. "Do you want to keep working at the hospital? You seem to have been really affected by your patient."

"No, it's fine." Drake turned back to his plate and picked up a piece of crisp bacon, crunching on it. "I actually enjoy the excitement, but this was just a really hard case. Child abuse. I'm used to accidental injury not intentional."

"Oh, Drake, I'm so sorry," I said and reached out, squeezing his arm. "That must be unimaginable to deal with."

He nodded and stared out at the ocean outside our window. When he said no more, I didn't either, letting him take his time. He'd tell me more when he felt able.

"Can you get Elaine to come by or can you drop Sophie off at their place and go to the studio again today?" Drake asked, not looking at me. "I hate that you might lose a day there while you're working on a piece."

"Yes, Elaine said she'd drop by and sit with Sophie again today if I wanted."

"Good," Drake said. He turned to me and smiled finally. "I like to think of you in your studio, absorbed in a painting, losing track of time."

I smiled back and then stood up and went to him, slipping my arms around him, our foreheads pressed together.

"I love being there. Even two hours a day feels like a complete and total indulgence. It makes me happy to come back here and spend time with you and Sophie. I feel so blessed."

"We are blessed," Drake said and kissed me warmly.

"We are."

I sat back in my place and gave Sophie a tiny piece of my toast, which she happily shoved in her mouth.

When we were finished, I stood up and took Drake's plate. "You go back to bed. I'll clean up. You'll need your sleep if you're going to function tonight."

"Thanks," Drake said and yawned. "I need another few hours. I'll set the alarm for one o'clock. That'll give me some time with the two of you before I go back."

"Whatever you need," I said and carried our plates to the sink. Drake came over and pulled me into his arms.

"Thank you for being so understanding," he said, his voice low and full of emotion. "I'm just processing everything. It's taking me a while to adjust to this kind of case."

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