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Samira Mohan was still a little groggy when she woke up in the hospital bed, so her first reaction to seeing Dr. Abbot sleeping in the chair beside her was not to panic. Instead, she luxuriated in the chance to study his profile unhindered by propriety. It wasn’t often she could do this without him noticing. He always seemed to notice her, and if she was being honest, it was a nice feeling.
With the exception of her appa, most of the men in her life had judged her and found her wanting, whether it was because she was smarter and more focused than them (you’re too intimidating, one of her friends had once told her) or conversely, too slow when treating patients (she was not unaware of the Slow-Mo nickname). But not Jack Abbot. He was never afraid to ask her what she thought about a recent article in a medical journal or to hand off a difficult case to her in the morning. He saw her, and not only did he accept her for who she was, he appreciated it.
So earlier in the day, when he had told her to put him down as her emergency contact, she had humored him, knowing she could always change it later. She had just finished giving him Orlando Diaz’s home address from the computer console, and while he ordered the Uber on his phone, she had gone into her own profile. Now that her mom was selling her childhood home and going on this yearlong cruise, she would need to change her emergency contact info. She started deleting the data but then paused when it was empty, realizing that she had no one else to enter in.
Jack must have noticed because he just said, “Put me in”. The same way he had said, “I’ll pay for it.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world and not a big deal at all. So she did. Typed “Jack Abbot” into the full name field. Typed in the number and address he gave her. Never thinking that she would actually have an emergency before she could update it to someone more appropriate.
So she figured that’s why he was here, sleeping on an uncomfortable hospital chair at her bedside instead of at home. Somebody must have called him, and he had come back, for her. While she hated being an inconvenience, it was gratifying to know he had come.
This was the first time she had seen him look so unguarded. Sure, she had seen him shirtless earlier, but this was by far more vulnerable. Maybe it was the drugs in her system, but she had the insane urge to touch him, trace his jawline, maybe find out what the stubble would feel like against her fingertips….
His eyes snapped open, and she froze, caught with her hand reaching towards his face. He took the hand in his and stood up, leaning over her.
“You’re awake.” His eyes were probing, searching hers for something more than a diagnosis.
She squeezed his hand and smiled. “You came.”
“Of course I did. You really had us worried, Dr. Mohan.” His voice actually cracked at the admission.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him. He suddenly seemed to notice the intimate distance between them and stood back, withdrawing.
“I heard…I heard you were leaving us for New Jersey.” She could feel the familiar walls slipping back down into place, their professional boundaries being reinstated. Perhaps it was the drugs, perhaps it was the wake up call she had gotten today, but instead of letting him go, she only held him tighter and pulled him closer. If her mom could choose her own happiness, then she could and would choose hers.
“I’m not going anywhere, Jack,” she promised.