His POV – Emergency Room, 2:47 AM

She didn’t look surprised when she walked in—just mildly annoyed, like finding me half-dead on a hospital bed was more of an inconvenience than a crisis.

Hair pulled back in that rushed, I’m-on-my-third-shift kind of way. ID badge swinging at her chest. And those eyes—sharp, steady, too damn calm for someone who was supposed to be my wife.

"You couldn’t bleed somewhere else?" she asked, pulling on gloves like she hadn’t just insulted me.

I smirked. Still had enough blood to enjoy the view, apparently.

"Doctor’s off the clock?" I rasped, voice rough. Maybe from blood loss. Maybe from her. She didn’t answer. Just grabbed a gauze pad and stepped closer.

She smelled like antiseptic and jasmine. Goddamn contradiction.

"Shirt," she said flatly.

I raised a brow. "Didn’t know you were that eager, cariño."

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blush. Just stared at me like I was another open wound she had to stitch shut.

"Off."

Fine.

I peeled it off slowly, wincing as the dried blood tugged at my side. Her hands paused for a second when she saw the bruises. The gash near my ribs. The mess I'd let happen.

And just like that, something flickered behind her eyes. Not pity. Not fear.

Something that felt a little too much like... concern.

She didn’t say anything. Just started working. Hands steady. Movements clinical. Like I was just another patient.

But I wasn’t. Not to her. And she sure as hell wasn’t just my doctor.

"You’re not supposed to be the one doing this," I said after a beat. "Should’ve called someone else."

She didn’t even glance up. “You told them to call me.”

Touché.

Silence stretched between us as she cleaned the wound. Her fingers brushed against my skin—barely, briefly—but it was enough.

Too much.

"You gonna live?" she asked softly, almost like she didn’t want to.

I looked at her. Really looked. And for the first time in two years of this twisted, quiet, not-quite-marriage... I wasn’t sure which answer she was hoping for.

"Depends," I murmured. "You done patching me up yet, or do I have to get hurt again just to see you outside that damn coat?"

Her eyes met mine. Unflinching. Unreadable.

And just like always— she didn’t move away.