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“But you said you were considering staying?”
With a final kiss on her mouth, Drake let her shorts fall back in place but wrapped his arms around her waist in an embrace.
“I just mean if I stay, it won’t be because of any hospital or offer to stay in another plastics department.”
The implication being he would stay for her?
“Drake,” she started, but he stood and adjusted the thick bulge in his pants that sprung toward her.
“Don’t freak out. I knew something was missing in LA but couldn’t quite figure it out. Then when I got a taste of working in the ER with you, it was clear we had unfinished business. After I found out my mom was sick, it all clicked. All I’m saying is, I would choose this thing between us over any job at Mercy. I don’t want there to be any confusion in your beautiful mind.”
She gulped, unable to deny hearing him say that after all this time felt monumental. But leaving his prestigious job in LA would be much more complicated than just deciding to make a change.
“Thank you for the éclairs,” she said, unsure what to say.
He laughed, and his hand cupped the back of her neck. “Call me when the birthday party is over, or I’ll come find you,” he promised. Then he kissed her again and was gone.
As she leaned against the door, her body hummed with the kind of energy created between two people with chemistry that made everything else in the world seem inconsequential. He could have easily convinced her to be late for the party, but maybe they both needed time to think about what had just happened. Everything was so jumbled in her brain. She couldn’t just sleep with Drake once and expect to get him out of her system, or for it to convince him to stay. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted him to, but it was clear she still wanted him. She was questioning every decision she’d made since the day she walked away from him, but knew for certain it wasn’t something they could change.
But he had said he was sorry he left her behind, and that was something, wasn’t it?
Snapping out of it, she looked at the clock. There was no time to pay attention to her hair or makeup, so after a quick cold shower, she threw on some jeans, a soft blue sweater, and raced out of her condo. Luckily, her parents’ place was nearby in a working-class suburb just outside of downtown. She was very close with her niece. Margo always dreamed of having a big family of her own one day, but that dream always seemed in conflict with her love of medicine. She didn’t know how women could balance a high-speed career and kids, and she wasn’t convinced she’d want to try.
“Auntie, you made it. Wait until you see what Nana did to fix the cake.” Sophie’s eyes grew big.
The stitches Drake had used to close Sophie’s wound were healing nicely, and there was barely a scar. With more time and the special scar ointment, it was possible there wouldn’t be a scar at all.
In the kitchen music was playing, her father was making bite-sized pizzas for the kids, and her mother was throwing multicolored sprinkles at a lopsided four-tier cake.
“Mom, did you really drop the cake?”
Her mom looked up over her glasses and winked.
“No one will notice, you’ll see.”
The sprinkles did add pizzazz to the cake, she had to admit, but it still resembled that famous building that leans to one side.
“Margo, you made it,” her sister said, giving her a quick hug. “Come outside and help me with the balloons, please.”
The backyard looked like a kid’s oasis. There was a massive bounce castle that commanded one side of the yard, an obstacle course, a relay race, and several picnic tables with snacks and drinks. There was a s’mores station and a few heat lamps set up for the adults with comfortable lounge chairs. Throw blankets were in a basket near the seats, but the sun was shining and they were having a mild winter so far.
What was supposed to be a colorful balloon archway for the kids to run through was in a tangle on an old sheet.
“See? I need your help!” Izzy said, handing her a picture of what the archway should look like.
Thirty minutes later, Margo had the balloons fixed, and her sister lay flat on her back on the sheet.
“You’re getting too old for this,” Izzy said.
“Excuse me, I’m only thirty-three,” Margo defended.
“Yep, and I’m twenty-eight, and I can admit I’m too old for this. So even if you got pregnant today, you’re going to be an exhausted mom, even more exhausted than I feel now.”
“Who said anything about getting pregnant?” Margo croaked, and the image of Drake’s dark eyes flashed in her mind.
“Exactly my point. I know you’ve always wanted kids, but if you wait much longer, you’ll be too old. It’ll be impossible to manage these birthday extravaganzas. But if you don’t start dating someone, your odds drop even faster.”
“Well, thank you for that depressing observation,” Margo said, standing back as she surveyed her balloon art.
