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‘Anytime’ turned into every Wednesday into Thursday that they had off. Like clock work, Emma would come over after their shift—they’d leave together, staying at his apartment with Trinity. All three would hangout together on the couch. Eat dinner, watch a movie or an episode of whatever trashy TV show Santos was watching, and then retire to the room after Trinity fell asleep on the couch mid-episode. After the months Robby was gone on his sabbatical, Emma would stay over for a couple nights in a row.
Even when they had work the next morning— keeping an extra pair of scrubs in the bottom drawer of Dennis’ dresser so that she was ‘always prepared.’
She noticed how Princess would look her up and down and turn to Perlah to rapidly talk amongst themselves , which of course caused Trinity to join in. Naturally, she made sure to keep the pair updated on the latest movements of Emma and Dennis. How Emma spent the night again and how she definitely heard Dennis say ‘I love you’ when he got off the phone with her. She would also point out when they would interact on the floor. Nervous and impossibly soft, trying desperately to display some symbolism of professionalism.
Despite this, they still hadn’t described what this was. They were close, and they weren’t talking to anyone else. They had made that abundantly clear one night about four months in when she had asked him if he had any plans.
"You doing anything Friday night?”
“No, not unless you’re about to ask me to do something.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, Em. I don’t really do things unless you or Trin ask me to.”
“Oh. That’s cute, actually.”
—
He just wasn’t sure how to ask her. It feels like it’s been too long now. Six month of this. Six months of stolen glances, soft touches, and the most love that he had felt since he was a child. She has a key. For when she has night shifts. Because his apartment is closer to the hospital…. he argued that it’s for convenience, but it’s because he sleeps better when she’s with him. Her energy comforted him, his soul felt like it could rest. After years of running he could stop and refuel. Greedily, he wants her around all the time. Wanting to enjoy all of the goodness he can, enjoying as much as he can before it eventually runs out.
She was sitting on the couch in the living room in her pajamas, the bottom drawer of his dresser becoming her bottom drawer in his dresser. He didn’t mind clearing out the space.
“Hey sweetheart?”
Her head turns and she has the same beautiful look in her eye. The one that she always does when she looks at him— sparkling and excited.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t work tonight?”
“No, for some reason I have it off. Why do you ask?”
“Want to go to dinner?”
“Ooh! What if we get takeout? Trinity has work anyways so it was just gonna be us here. She told me that on her way out, she’s working a double today.”
“Whatever you want, okay?”
She grins, but once the words settle in she starts to think. Dennis was a great boyfriend, but he was not a romantic planner. He would rather spend their limited free time together, planning what to do next. Not surprising her with grand gestures. He was more of a ‘flowers because I thought of you guy’, not a ‘let’s go to a fancy dinner because we can’ guy.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Oh, uh. I.. No reason.”
His face flushed and his eyes darted away from her gaze, anxiously picking at the skin around his thumb.
“You are a horrible liar. It’s adorable. What are you plotting, Whitaker?”
He rolls his eyes and fights a smile at the bite in her voice when she says his last name, pseudo-bitter.
“I just. I just wanted to show you that I appreciate you. And I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend-”
“Wait. I wasn’t aware that I wasn’t?”
“I hadn’t asked you yet… I just… We never got around to it and it just got comfortable so fast…”
“Dennis, you don’t clear out drawers for a buddy. You don’t say I love you to someone who you don’t feel some sort of way about…”
His face goes red as he nods, pausing to weigh her words— as if he hadn’t considered this yet. Which, truth be told, he hadn’t. He hadn’t thought about what they were, he was just glad that they were. He didn’t want to pressure her into commitment if that isn’t what she wanted.
“I guess that’s true… and I do. I do love you.”
“I love you too, and of course I will be your girlfriend. Can I just ask why the sudden urge to ask? We haven’t been seeing anyone else for… a while. What changed?”
He pauses, not sure how to answer her so he shrugs— sinking into the couch. Her feet stretch out to his thighs, resting gently on top of them. A silent gesture, comfort. I’m here.
“Nothing. I just, uh, I guess… I guess I felt like I should. Like you deserved the decency of being asked, you deserved to uhm. For someone to tell you that they chose you.”
Her face goes dark, flushing with the embarrassment of being desired. Her cheeks stretch with the giddy joy that his words brought, his reasoning based in what she deserved over what she could offer. She sits, staring at him with a wide smile, her nose crinkling the way he could never ignore.
“Did I render Emma Nicole Nolan, speechless?”
Her smile switches from one of awe to one of annoyance. His laugh filling the air as his thumb traces the delicate bones on the tops of her feet.
“So, what are you getting your girlfriend for dinner? Since you so kindly offered?”
“I was thinking I would give her my phone and let her Door Dash whatever she so wanted because I do not care where we eat and I know you’ve had to had something on your mind since lunch.”
She seemed happy with that answer, wiggling her feet at him to get him to massage them as she held out her hand for his phone. The rest of their night was spent watching Love Island, eating her favorite Chinese takeout, and comfortably cuddling on the couch.
—
Trinity found them the next morning— cuddled on the couch with Emma on top of him, his arms wrapped protectively around her chest. She takes a moment to snap a picture of them, sending it to Emma before waking them up. She sounds more tired than usual, her voice weighing heavy in the air.
“Mkay love birds, get a room. Seriously. It’s more comfortable than the couch. Go.”
Dennis peeks one eye open, shaking Emma gently.
“Trin’s home, we fell asleep on the couch”
Her head turns to Trinity as a sleepy smile spreads across her face. She stretches up and positions herself to be upright.
“Mnm, how’d work go?”
“It was long, lost a patient. I want to go to bed, so I’m going to… Talk to you guys later.”
Her tight lipped smile had faded and her eyes were equally as blank.She turns mindlessly and walks to her room, the door clinking shut behind her. Within moments, Dennis was following her. He couldn’t help the need to squeeze out from behind Emma, padding to her room and knocking softly on the door.
“What do you want, Huckleberry?”
Her tone is icy, laced with anger and mournful desperation.
“I’m opening the door.”
When he opens the door he finds her, sitting on the floor against her bed staring at the wall expressionless with tears rolling down her cheeks. The door clicks shut behind him and he sits next to her, offering her his hand. She takes it, her head falling to his shoulder.
They stay like that, his thumb rubbing firm circles on the back of her hand as she lets out silent sobs into his shoulder. Neither of them say a word, but he knows exactly what she is feeling. The lead weight in your chest, weighing deeper and deeper. Pulling your heart through your feet. Burning, ripping, clawing as it spreads through your thoracic cavity. Your best simply not being good enough.
You are not good enough.
The mind is a dark place, one which Trinity likes to retreat into. Dennis will pull her back, each and every time. His shoulder being the grounding rod, holding her steady in this realm. Away from the ‘what-if’ spiral and the ‘I should have’ loops.
Away from herself.
So they sit, and she cries. He ignores it and continues to rub circles on the back her hand, tracing the ligaments and tendons which make moving her fingers possible. He knows that if he addresses her tears, or the emotions she would freeze up. Hide back in her shell, the one he so desperately pried her out of.
“Need anything else?”
His voice permeates the silence after about thirty minutes, her silent sobs turning into periodic sniffles.
“I’m good… Gonna get ready for bed. Thanks Dennis.”
Her voice is broken, raw and tired. He can’t help the pang that runs through his chest as he stands up.
“Mkay, well you know where I am if you need me. I’ll check in on you in a few hours. Love you Trin.”
“I love you too Huckleberry. Now get.”
He rolls his eyes, leaving the room without second request and moving into his room— Emma sitting on his bed.
“She okay?”
“Yeah. Hard shift. Didn’t talk about it, just sat there with her y’know? Sometimes that’s what you need”
He climbs into his bed, laying his head on her lap, a gentle smile crossing his lips as her fingers rub at his scalp.
“I got you.”
I understand you. You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re safe.
“I know”
I trust you. I know you. I love you.
They lay like that, his head in her lap, her fingers curling in his hair until he dozes off. She continues to play with his hair, pushing the fluffy curls back from his forehead. She rubs her thumb against the smooth skin that lies under the mess of blonde and sits in the quiet peace of this room. The strongest man she knows laying across her, vulnerable and small on her lap.
She doesn’t really know what his family was like. He doesn't talk much about it and she doesn’t push. But she can tell from the way he tenses around the topic that it is much worse than anything she could be thinking. The way he is stiff around loud men, never raising his voice. The way that he goes silent when asked about his family, his mouth opening but his throat not cooperating. He was gentle, loving, and kind. The direct opposite from however he was raised. She had decided that he was never going to feel anything but gentle and kind love if she had a say in the matter.