23. Buster

TWENTY-THREE

Buster

3:19 pm

I stand there, stunned, as Cole's words hang in the air between us. Madeline could be my daughter? My mind races, trying to process this bombshell while also grappling with Madeline's dire medical situation.

"Why... why didn't you tell me this before?" I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Cole's eyes fill with tears. "I... I wasn't sure. I only started suspecting recently."

I do some quick mental math, piecing together the timeline of our previous encounters. It's possible, I realize with a jolt. And now that I think about it, I can see some similarities in Madeline's features that I hadn't noticed before.

A surge of anger rises in me, but I tamp it down. This isn't the time or place to hash out the implications of Cole's revelation. Right now, Madeline's life is hanging in the balance.

Without hesitation, I turn to Allen, the nurse hovering nearby. "I need you to take my blood and run the test to see if I'm a match," I say firmly.

The nurse gives me a puzzled look, clearly taken aback by a surgeon volunteering to be tested as a potential donor for a patient. But to her credit, she doesn't question it further.

"Of course, Dr. Hankel," she says, reaching for a fresh needle and vial. "I'll get this to the lab right away."

As Allen draws my blood, I catch Cole's eyes. There's fear, hope, and a silent plea for understanding in them. We have much to discuss, but it'll have to wait. Right now, all that matters is saving Madeline's life—my potential daughter's life.

5:39 pm

I am startled when Liesle bursts into the hospital room, her face a mix of concern and determination. She immediately wraps Cole in a tight hug, then turns to me with a nod of acknowledgment.

"Cole, you need to go home," Liesle says firmly. "Shower, change your clothes, rest in your own bed. Even if it's just for a few hours."

Cole starts to protest, but I can see the exhaustion etched on her face. She's been here for days, barely leaving Madeline's side.

"Your sister's right," I chime in gently. "You need to take care of yourself to be there for Maddie."

Liesle nods appreciatively at my support. "I'll stay with her. She'll be in good hands, I promise. I doubt anything will come up, but I swear to you, if they so much as want to change her sheets, I will notify you. I just want you to rest. I need you well. Maddie needs you well."

I can see Cole wavering, her resolve crumbling as the weight of the past few days catches up with her.

As a doctor, I've seen this countless times—the devoted parent running on fumes, reluctant to leave their child's side. But Cole's exhaustion is palpable, etched in the dark circles under her eyes and the slump of her shoulders.

I find myself fighting the urge to step in, to use my medical authority to insist she get some rest. But I know that's not my place, not here, not now. Instead, I watch silently, hoping she'll listen to her sister's plea and take care of herself. After all, I've seen firsthand how crucial it is for parents to maintain their strength in times like these.

"I... I guess you're right," she finally admits reluctantly. "But just for a little while."

"I'll drive you home," I offer, stepping forward. "And I can bring you back whenever you're ready, even if it's in the middle of the night."

Cole looks at me, gratitude shining in her tired eyes. "Are you sure? You've already done so much..."

I shake my head, cutting off her protests. "It's no trouble. Really."

As we prepare to leave, I watch Cole lean over Madeline's bed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. The tenderness of the moment hits me hard, especially in light of Cole's recent revelation. Could this little girl really be my daughter?

I push the thought aside for now. There will be time to deal with that later. Right now, my focus is on getting Cole home so she can recharge and be strong for Madeline.

7:01 pm

As we step into Cole's apartment, the silence feels heavy, almost suffocating. I watch her slump against the wall, her shoulders sagging, the weight of everything finally catching up to her.

My heart aches to see her like this, so vulnerable and drained. It's a stark contrast to the fierce, independent woman I've come to know these last few weeks.

The urge to comfort her is overwhelming, but I hesitate, unsure if my touch would be welcome after everything that's happened. The air between us is thick with unspoken words and shared trauma.

My feelings continue to race from one extreme to the other. I feel compassion and empathy for Cole, wanting to ease her pain and worry. And I feel anger at what feels like a sort of betrayal.

I am angry at the sudden knowledge that Maddie could be my daughter and that Cole had a hunch but didn't share it with me. But my tenderness and worry dwarf those feelings.

I can't help but feel partly responsible for the exhaustion etched on her face, and it's killing me inside.

"Cole," I say gently, "what do you need? Anything at all? I'll go to the store."

She shakes her head, looking lost. I take a deep breath, knowing I need to take charge here.

"How about you take a long, hot bath?" I suggest. "It'll help you relax. I can run to the store and buy some supplies. Pick up dinner. You need to eat."

Cole nods slowly, a flicker of relief crossing her face. "A bath sounds... nice," she admits. "I don't need anything from the store, but..." She hesitates, vulnerability clear in her eyes. "Would you... would you stay here? I don't want to be alone."

My chest tightens at her request, a wave of protectiveness washing over me. Of course I'll stay. I'd move mountains for her right now if I could. Hell, I'd rearrange the entire solar system if it would ease her pain.

The vulnerability in her eyes tugs at something deep inside me, a feeling I'm not quite ready to name. I swallow hard, pushing aside my own tumultuous emotions to focus on what Cole needs right now.

"Absolutely," I assure her, my voice soft but firm. "I'll be right here. Take all the time you need."

She gives me a grateful smile, small but genuine. As she heads towards the bathroom, I call out, "I'll make some tea. It'll be waiting when you're done."

When I hear the bathroom door close, I let out a long breath. My mind is reeling with everything that's happened, but I push it aside. Right now, Cole needs me to be steady and here. And that's precisely what I intend to do.

I look up as Cole emerges from the bathroom, her skin glistening and her wet hair clinging to her neck and shoulders. The towel wrapped around her waist leaves her top bare, and my breath catches in my throat. Despite everything we've been through, seeing her still takes my breath away.

She approaches me from where I'm sitting on the sofa, her eyes meeting mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. I'm not sure what to say or do, so I remain still, waiting for her to make the first move.

The air between us is tense—a blended concoction of desire, worry, and unresolved emotions all around. I can see the vulnerability in her eyes, mixed with something else... need, perhaps? Or is it desperation?

My hands itch to reach out and pull her close, comfort her, lose ourselves in each other, and forget about the world outside for a moment. But I hold back, knowing that this isn't the time. We have too much to talk about, too much at stake.

Cole stops in front of me, her chest rising and falling with each breath. I can smell the faint scent of her shampoo mixed with the clean scent of her skin. It's intoxicating, and I have to force myself to focus.

"Buster," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Cole," I respond, my tone equally soft.

She takes another step closer, now standing between my knees. I can feel the heat radiating from her body, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to reach out and touch her.

"I..." she starts, then stops, seeming unsure of what to say next.

I wait, my heart pounding in my chest. The silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken words and suppressed emotions.

The towel wrapped around her waist teases at the edges of her curves, and I can't tear my eyes away from the smooth expanse of her shoulders, the gentle swell of her breasts.

Her approach is tentative, her dark eyes locked on mine, searching for comfort, reassurance, a connection that might anchor us both in the storm of fear and uncertainty that's enveloped our lives.

I want to be that anchor for her. I want to be the one she turns to, the one who can protect her from the pain and the worry, if only for a moment.

"Buster," she whispers, and the sound of my name on her lips sends a jolt of desire straight through me. It's a petition, a question, a desperate need that resonates in the very core of my being.

"Cole," I reply, my voice a soft rumble that I barely recognize as my own.

I want to say more, to tell her that everything will be okay, that I'll do whatever it takes to help Maddie and make things right for her and her daughter.

But words seem inadequate in the face of so much emotion and fear. And deep down, to my core, I don't know if I can promise her that right now.

She steps closer until she's standing between my knees, her body heat enveloping me and drawing me in. I can see the flicker of vulnerability in her gaze and the tremble in her lips that she's trying so hard to control.

My hands ache to reach out and touch her, to pull her into my arms and hold her until the world makes sense again.

But I don't move. I wait, giving her the space to decide what she needs and wants from me at this moment.

"I..." she starts, her voice breaking on a single syllable. She swallows hard, her throat working, and for a moment, I think she might change her mind, turn away, and leave me aching with the need to comfort her.

Instead, she closes the distance between us, her legs brushing against mine as she straddles me on the sofa. The feel of her body against mine, the warmth of her skin, the pressure of her weight... it's like a dam breaking inside me, unleashing a flood of desire I can no longer contain.

My hands find their way to her hips, pulling her closer, feeling the dampness of her skin through the fabric of the towel.

She gasps as our bodies align, her eyes fluttering closed as she tilts her head back, exposing the long line of her neck.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to the hollow at the base of her throat, tasting the salt of her skin, the faint residue of her bath. She moans softly, her fingers threading through my hair, holding me to her as I kiss my way along her collarbone, up the slope of her shoulder.

The towel falls away, pooling at her waist, and I cup her breasts in my hands, feeling their weight, the stiffness of her nipples against my palms. She arches into my touch, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as I tease and torment her, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

I can feel the urgency building inside her, a desperate need for release, oblivion, and something to hold onto amid the chaos surrounding us. And I give it to her, my hands and my mouth worshiping her body, stoking the fire inside her until she's crying out, her body shuddering against mine as she finds her release.

We move together, our bodies locked in a dance as old as time, a desperate, frantic coupling that's as much about comfort and connection as it is about passion and desire. It's a reminder that we're alive, together, and have something worth fighting for, even in the face of fear and uncertainty.

And as we find our release together, our bodies joined in the most intimate of ways. I'll do whatever it takes to keep this woman and her daughter safe. I'll face down any challenge, obstacle, or adversary that comes our way.

Including the possibility that Maddie is my daughter…and that her mother kept that possibility from me, even for a short time.

Cole and Maddie are my world now, and I'll be damned if I let anything take them away from me.