Chapter 63 Chapter 63

Chapter 63 Chapter 63
AJ stood in the middle of the bustling hospital corridor, the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the muffled scuff of nursing clogs creating a symphony he hadn't realized he’d missed. But his mind was still back in the apartment, anchored to the sight of Katherine’s tangled blonde hair against the white pillowcases. He hated leaving like a thief in the gray light of dawn.

He had missed the way she looked in the aftermath of their passion—that contented, peaceful expression that smoothed away the fine lines of stress she carried as a surgeon. He had stayed as long as he dared, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, resisting the urge to reach out and wake her just to see her eyes find his one more time. He felt a lingering pang of guilt; he had been rough with her, his desire a frantic, uncoordinated thing that had overridden his usual surgical precision. The moment she had stepped into that room, eighteen months of hunger had roared to life, and he’d found it impossible to be the "gentleman" he’d promised. Even now, standing in his scrubs, he felt the ghost of her touch, wishing he were still tangled in those sheets instead of bracing for a political firefight.

But the call from Dr. Chaplain, Catalella’s oncologist, had acted like a bucket of ice water. The hospital’s Transplant Committee was getting cold feet. In the wake of Catalella’s suicide attempt, they were scrutinizing her "psychological viability" for the transplant. To the bureaucrats in the boardroom, a patient who tried to take their own life was a high-risk investment for a precious organ or marrow match—even if the donor was her own brother. AJ had spent the last three hours in a wood-paneled room, using every ounce of his professional standing to convince them that his sister wasn't a "risk," but a girl who had simply broken under an impossible weight.

“Hey! You snuck out on me.”

The sound of her voice hit him like a physical spark. AJ turned, and there she was—Katherine, looking sharp and professional in her lab coat, though he could see the slight puffiness in her eyes that betrayed their sleepless night.

“I’m sorry, Kitty Kat.” He offered her a lopsided, prize-winning grin, the one that usually made her soften. He stepped into her personal space, lowering his voice so it stayed between them. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, or think I’m overstepping, but… did you take the pill? Or the morning-after?”

Katherine’s stride faltered for a micro-second, a shadow of their complicated history passing over her features. She looked down at her clipboard before meeting his gaze with a bittersweet honesty. “I will. And of course… of course I understand why you’d want to make sure. I know I didn’t handle our first pregnancy the best way. I didn't give you the chance to be the partner you wanted to be.”

AJ reached out, his hand hovering near her elbow, wanting to bridge the gap but keeping it professional for the benefit of the passing residents. “I just want us to start over on the right foot, Katherine. I don’t want us in a situation that we aren't emotionally ready for yet. You’ve changed, I’ve changed. You have too much on your plate right now, career-wise—half the hospital thinks you’re the savior of the OB/GYN wing, and the other half still wants you in Cardio. I want you to have the space to breathe.”

“Starting over,” she repeated, chewing on her bottom lip in that way that always made his pulse jump. She looked up at him through her lashes, a playful, slightly daring glint in her blue-gray eyes. “Does that mean no sex? Are we going back to awkward first dates and making sure we leave room for Jesus?”

AJ felt a deep, genuine warmth crawl into his chest as he let out a bark of laughter. He had forgotten how much he missed her wit, the way she could punctuate a heavy moment with exactly the right amount of levity. “Of course not. I’m a man of science, Katherine, but I’m not a masochist. I wouldn’t punish myself like that. I’ve spent a year and a half dreaming about last night; I’m not giving that up.”

“So why did you run out on me?” she asked, her tone softening as she stepped closer, her hand grazing the sleeve of his coat.

“They want to postpone Catalella’s procedure,” AJ said, the levity vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. “The committee is terrified of the optics. They don’t think she’s in the right frame of mind to survive the recovery. They’re looking for a paper trail to cover their asses, and they’re asking questions about why she wasn't placed on a 51/50 psychiatric hold immediately upon arrival.”

Katherine’s expression hardened into one of clinical defiance. “That was my call. I didn't think she needed the trauma of a forced lockdown. A 51/50 is for people who are a persistent danger to themselves or others. Catalella had a moment of acute, agonizing despair fueled by a heartbreak she wasn't prepared for. Putting her in a psych ward would have broken her spirit further. It was a calculated medical decision, AJ. She hasn't exhibited a single psychological red flag since she woke up. Why are they asking?”

“Because they need a scapegoat, Katherine. And right now, your name is at the top of the chart.”

“Katherine, can I talk to you for a minute?”

The voice was like a discordant note in a perfect melody. AJ looked over Katherine’s shoulder and saw Lyle. He hadn't missed the man—not the arrogance, not the way he looked at Katherine with a sense of unearned ownership. During his time in Djibouti, AJ had often wondered if Katherine had moved on with someone like Lyle—someone safe, someone who was actually there.

Seeing him now, AJ felt the protective, possessive instinct of the "caveman version" of himself resurface. He knew he had to figure out how to work in the same building as this guy without a formal HR complaint involving a broken jaw.

But AJ wasn't going to give Lyle the satisfaction of seeing him rattled. He didn't step back. Instead, he leaned down and planted a lingering, tender kiss on Katherine’s cheek, his beard brushing against her soft skin. It was a silent, unmistakable claim.

“Find me when you’re done with… whatever this is,” AJ murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against her ear. “I’ll be in Catalella’s room. We need to go over her latest labs.”

He caught the brief, stunned look on Lyle’s face and the way Katherine’s breath hitched. Satisfied, AJ straightened his posture and walked away, his boots echoing with a newfound purpose. He had a sister to save and a woman to win back, and he was no longer a man who took "no" for an answer.

As he walked, he felt the weight of the hospital—the life, the death, the politics—pressing in on him. But for the first time in eighteen months, the weight didn't feel like a burden. It felt like home.

He could hear Lyle’s muffled voice behind him, but he didn't turn back. He knew Katherine. He knew the fire in her soul. And he knew that whatever Lyle had to say, it wouldn't be enough to put out the embers they had reignited last night.

AJ pushed through the heavy doors to the pediatric oncology wing, his mind already shifting gears. He needed to be the doctor his sister needed, the brother his family relied on, and the man Katherine deserved. The "right foot" of their new beginning was a narrow path, but he was a surgeon; he was used to working with millimeters.