Page 109 of Vital Signs

“Oh, for sure. Probably some lung scarring from the inhalation, but everything else came back clear.”

She leaned over, resting her head lightly on my shoulder, and I let a quiet moment settle between us. “I meant with the two big lugs in her room, Des.”

I turned and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, feeling the warmth and weight of her, still so alive and human and steady. “Oh, no. Definitely not. It’s dangerous in there. Palpable tension. And — answer me honestly — we weren’t ever that bad, were we?”

“No,” she said immediately, almost too easily.

“Yes.” A new voice cut in, sharp and teasing: “It was disgusting. You weren’t suave about it at all. And we all had tohearyou fucking. Which… actually made it worse.”

I blinked, then glanced at Anya. Liza, laughing behind us, shook her head and disappeared before I could say anything clever.

“Doctor V?”

We both turned to the fresh-faced intern, answering in unison: “Yes?”

“Oh — um,” she stammered, rocking on her heels. “Mrs. Doctor V. The patient in room nine is asking for you.”

I shot Anya a sideways look, eyebrow arched. “Mrs. Doctor V,” I said slowly, letting it linger. “My wife, Doctor V.”

She laughed, her head tilting against mine. “The better Doctor V,” she said, kissing the corner of my cheek before slipping away.

I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, the weight of monthsof chaos, exhaustion, and recovery settling into something warm and quiet. The world was still spinning, still unpredictable, still too much sometimes — but right now, we had each other. And that was enough.