the exam room was too quiet with that clinical silence that filled every gap and made people fidget in their seats while waiting for information they probably didnt want to hear but the silence wasnt unusual for you

what was unusual was who say on the paper bed across from you.

renee.

she was sat there the same way she always used to sit when you were waiting for food in some late night diner. her legs were swinging slightly, her body holding too much energy to ever stay still

she looked older than the last time you saw her. not too much but enough that you noticed. her sharp eyes followed you carefully as if every move you made might matter more than it should

you held your small light between you, your hand steady like always as your voice came out as professional as you tried to make it “open wide for me.”

she gave you a look that you knew all too well. it was a mix of sarcasm and unspoken history but she still listened, sticking her tongue out with her lips parted

the light reflected off the back of her throat as you leaned in, your gloved hand holding her chin in place. the closeness was familiar in a unprofessional way like leaning across a bed towards her and whispering things you hadnt said in months

after a moment you cleared your throat and forced yourself back into the moment “good. hold still. youre doing great.”

the praise was automatic but you caught the flicker in her eyes. she always knew when your words carried more weight than they should

with her tongue still out, she tried to mumble something but you shook your head, fighting a smile “dont talk yet. just stay like this for me. perfect.”

your thumb lightly pressed under her chin as you tilted her head back a little more. she smelled like the kind of cheap coffee you used to drink together when mornings came too soon. that smell hit harder than it should have in this moment

after a moment you pulled back, cutting the light off “looks good..”

renee pulled her tongue back, making a small face before smirking “guess i still take direction well”

the line hung between you in a heavier sense than it should have been as you set the light aside and started making a note on your chart “you did fine.”

she tilted her head, watching you “you dont usually sound like that with patients”

your pen hesitated against the paper. you didnt look up right away but when you did her eyes caught yours, daring you to say more than you should

“maybe i dont” you admitted, your voice quieter than before

the silence stretched again but it wasnt empty. it was full of everything unsaid and the messy years and messier beginning you seemed to be stumbling into again

she shifted on the table, the paper crinkling under her “two years together and now im just.. your client” she said it like she wanted it to sting but her voice cracked at the end

you placed your stethoscope on the counter, trying to give yourself a second to breathe “youre not just anything renee”

her expression softened for a second before she masked it with a smirk “careful doc. youre slipping.”

you exhaled “yeah. maybe i am.”