24. Elle

TWENTY-FOUR

Elle

9:03 pm

I step out of the shower, my entire midsection still tingling from the explosive moment we just shared. The water's warmth and the moment's intensity cling to my skin. I remove the waterproof covering I have to use when showering, wondering if it did anything at all after that insanity. The dressing under it is wet, so I have to change it.

Shep's vulnerability in there, the way he broke down in my arms, it's left me shaken. I wrap myself in a fluffy towel, my mind racing.

I'm grateful he felt safe enough to let go with me. I know this isn't about us or our relationship. This is about Opie, about the possibility of losing his mom. And Ari. While she may not be romantically in Shep's life anymore, she's still important and a very present person. She's Opie's mother and Shep's co-parent. Losing her would change everything for them.

I sit on the edge of the bed, brushing absentmindedly through my damp hair. My heart aches for both of them. For Opie, who might lose his mom way too young. For Shep, who's facing the prospect of becoming a single parent in the most total sense.

I want to be there for them, to support them however I can. But I'm not sure what that looks like yet. Do I step back and give them space? Do I offer more help? I don't want to overstep or make Shep feel crowded when he's dealing with so much.

Shep walks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. How does a man in his thirties still look so fit? He is so beautiful, even in his pain. I want to hold him, to make it better.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. Whatever happens next, whatever Shep needs, I'll be here. Ready to listen, hold him, or sit in silence if that's what he wants. This isn't about me or us right now. It's about being there for Shep and Opie as they navigate this impossible situation.

Shep sits beside me on the bed and puts his arm around me. "Thank you for that. I didn't know I needed that kind of human connection. I really appreciate it."

"I'm here for you, Shep. Tell me how I can support you. Know that no matter what, I will do it."

"Thank you. Would it be okay with you if we skip the wine tonight? I'm not sure I'd be much company. I'd love to lie together in bed and hold you. Would that be okay?"

I nod, understanding Shep's need for quiet comfort. "Of course," I whisper, gently squeezing his hand. "Whatever you need."

We change into our pajamas silently. I slip on a soft cotton t-shirt and shorts, while Shep pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a well-worn Alabama med school shirt. Our hair is still damp from the shower as we climb into bed.

"I have to change the dressing on my hand. I'll be right in."

Shep settles in next to me, and I open my arms. He nestles against me, his head resting on my chest. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. His body feels heavy, weighed down by the day's emotions.

Within minutes, Shep's breathing evens out. His chest's steady rise and fall tells me he's fallen asleep. I'm glad he can find some respite, even temporary.

But sleep eludes me. My mind races, thoughts tumbling over each other like clothes in a dryer. I stare at the ceiling, acutely aware of Shep's warmth against me.

What does this mean for us? For Shep and Opie?

I push my selfish thoughts aside as best as I can. This isn't about me right now. It's about being here for Shep and Opie, supporting them through this crisis.

I tighten my arms around Shep as if I could somehow shield him from the pain he's facing. His hair tickles my chin, and I resist the urge to smooth it back. I don't want to risk waking him from this much-needed sleep.

Instead, I lie here, holding him, my own eyes wide open in the darkness. The weight of uncertainty presses down on us, but for now, all I can do is be here, offering what comfort I can in this quiet moment.

Tuesday, July 23

6:13 am

I lie still in bed, feigning sleep as Shep moves around the room, getting ready for work. My eyes are closed, but my mind is wide awake, churning with thoughts from the sleepless night.

The weight of everything feels heavy on my chest. I'd planned to talk to Shep about our relationship—the commitment, the long distance—but Ari's situation changed everything. It feels selfish to bring up my concerns when he's dealing with such heartbreak.

I breathe slowly, evenly, as if in deep slumber. But inside, I'm a mess of conflicting emotions. The scent of Shep's soap lingers in the air as he moves about, reminding me how much I care for him. Yet I feel stuck, unable to voice my needs.

Part of me wants to open my eyes, to reach out and pull him close. To tell him everything that's been swirling in my mind. But I stay still, letting him believe I'm asleep. It's easier this way, I tell myself. He needs to focus on his son right now.

I hear Shep's footsteps pause by the bed. His hand gently brushes my hair, and it takes all my willpower not to lean into his touch. Then he's gone, the bedroom door closing softly behind him.

Only then do I allow my eyes to open, staring at the ceiling. I'm at the mercy of Shep's needs right now, and I don't know how to navigate this new terrain. The anxiety of unspoken words sits like a stone in my stomach.

I turn my face into the pillow, inhaling Shep's scent. Despite the comfort it brings, restlessness courses through me.

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday morning, he was so jovial and attentive. He woke me with a gentle kiss to say goodbye. Today, he only touched my hair. I'm not sure why he didn't kiss me, but I can't try to figure that out. I need to take care of myself and keep putting one foot in front of the other until I see an opportunity to do otherwise.

12:35 pm

I recheck my phone, hoping for a message from Shep, but there's nothing new since his good morning text. With two hours between therapy sessions, I'm at loose ends. Yesterday, I filled the time reading on the rooftop terrace, and that seems like the best option again today.

I grab my book and head to the roof, stopping by the hospital cafeteria to pick up a sushi roll. The warm Birmingham sun greets me as I step outside, and I find a quiet corner to settle in.

As I open my book, my mind wanders to Shep. I wonder what surgeries he has scheduled today and if he's holding up okay after last night's emotional breakdown. Part of me wants to text him to check in, but I hesitate. He knows how to find me if he wants to talk, and I don't want to add to his stress.

I take a bite of my California roll, savoring the fresh flavors. It's a welcome change from hospital food, even if it's not entirely up to the standards I'm used to back home in Florida.

Turning my attention back to my book, I try to lose myself in the story. But every few pages, I find myself glancing at my phone—no new messages. I sigh, reminding myself that Shep's probably knee-deep in a complex procedure right now.

The rooftop is peaceful, with only a few other people scattered about. A gentle breeze ruffles the pages of my book, and I inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh air after so much time cooped up indoors.

I'm so engrossed in my book that I don't notice Shep until he's sliding onto the bench beside me. His presence startles me, but pleasantly so.

"Hey there," he says softly, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

"Shep! I didn't expect to see you," I say, my heart fluttering at his touch.

He gestures to my half-eaten sushi. "Want to share?" I ask him, sliding my tray closer to him.

I offer him a piece with chopsticks, but he shakes his head. "No thanks." My chopsticks hover in midair. Setting down my utensils, I turn to face him more fully, searching his eyes for sincerity.

"Hey, Elle," he starts, his tone hushed and sincere, "I came to say sorry for acting aloof. I realize I've been...distant since yesterday. You're so gracious, and I want you to know I'm still in here, and I still want this to work; I just have to get through this muck."

His apology is a life raft. I know all of the things he is saying, but that he had the self-awareness to come up with this and to find me to tell me really means so much to me. I catch myself holding my breath, uncertain how to respond. I decide to say nothing and let him finish.

I place my hand on his toned quad to let him know instead.

"When I'm in crisis mode, I tend to turn inward. It's unfair to you, especially after everything we've discussed."

His vulnerability touches me. "Shep, you don't have to apologize. I can't even imagine what you're going through right now."

"Still, I appreciate you saying that." He takes my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. "I was thinking, I'd love to take you on a proper date. How about dinner tonight? Somewhere nice, just the two of us?"

The invitation sends a thrill through me. "That sounds wonderful. But what about Opie?"

"Already taken care of," he grins. "I checked in with Cason before I came to find you. She is on board for the evening."

I squeeze his hand. "In that case, I'd love to."

Shep's smile broadens, and for a moment, the weight he's been carrying seems to lift.

Bottega Restaurant

2240 Highland Avenue S

7:26 pm

We step out of the Uber, my heart fluttering as I take in all the sparking highrises at night from this vantage point. Bottega Restaurant at 2240 Highland Avenue S. The warm glow of the restaurant's lights casts a soft halo around him, accentuating his rugged features.

Shep looks absolutely mouth-watering in his tailored dark grey pants and pressed white button-down shirt, which perfectly hugs his athletic frame. His shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves are rolled up, showing his forearm tattoo.

As he turns to offer his arm to walk me in, I can't help but admire how the entire outfit emphasizes his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

"Elle, you look stunning," he says, his eyes roaming appreciatively over my outfit. He leans in and kisses me. I can tell he is trying to make up to me how distant he was last night and this morning. It makes me feel guilty that he thinks he has to.

I'm wearing a sleeveless emerald green dress that falls just above my knees, paired with strappy gold heels. The dress hugs my curves in all the right places, and I feel a surge of confidence as Shep takes my hand.

As we enter the restaurant, the elegant ambiance washes over us. Soft lighting from ornate chandeliers bathes the space in a warm glow, while the exposed brick walls and dark wood accents create an intimate atmosphere.

We're led to a cozy corner table, and Shep pulls out my chair for me. As he sits across from me, I can't help but marvel at how handsome he looks. His light brown hair is slightly tousled, giving him a boyish charm that contrasts beautifully with his strong jawline and intense hazel eyes.

The candlelight flickers between us, casting dancing shadows across Shep's face. It highlights the subtle lines around his eyes—evidence of both laughter and the stress he's been under lately. Despite everything, there's a warmth in his gaze that makes my breath catch.

As we finish the last sips of our wine, I feel a playful spark ignite within me. The evening has been perfect, and I'm not quite ready for it to end.

"You know," I say, leaning in conspiratorially, "I think we should get one more drink at the bar. I'm not ready for this night to end."

"How about we settle up here and grab a cocktail at a place within walking distance from here?" Shep suggests. "I know just the place."

"You're just full of good ideas and surprises. Lead the way, Dr. Duncan, you're my pied piper." I slip my hand into his as we stand.

The night air is pleasantly cool for a late July night. Shep grabs my hand, and we stroll hand-in-hand down Highland Avenue. After a short walk, Shep guides me towards a sleek building with a discreet sign reading "The Marble Ring."

"This place is a bit of a hidden gem," Shep explains as we approach what looks like an ordinary hot dog stand. "It's a speakeasy-style bar, very posh."

We step inside the stand, and I'm about to question Shep's judgment when a hidden door swings open, revealing a glamorous, 1920s-inspired cocktail lounge. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over velvet furnishings and gleaming marble surfaces.

"Wow," I breathe, taking in the opulent surroundings. "This is incredible."

We find a cozy corner booth and settle in, shoulders touching as we peruse the fresh, bespoke cocktail menu. This type of bar is my happy place.

As we settle into our plush booth, Shep orders a classic Old Fashioned, and I go for a "surprise me with something citrus and white liquor" option. When in Rome, as they say. We are in a prohibition bar, after all.

Shep takes a sip, then sets his glass down with a sigh. "Elle, I can't thank you enough for being such a rock during this crazy time. Your support means more than you know."

I reach out and squeeze his hand.

"I've been wrestling with a decision and could use your advice. It's about Opie and Ari."

"What's on your mind?" I ask gently.

Shep takes a deep breath. "I keep going back and forth about whether I should take Opie to see his mom. There's been no change since yesterday, and I'm worried time could be running out."

I listen intently as he explains his dilemma. "Part of me wants to protect his innocence, you know? I don't want his last memory of Ari to be her hooked up to machines, unresponsive. But then I worry that if I don't take him, he might resent me later for not giving him the chance to say goodbye."

I consider his words carefully. "That's such a difficult decision, Shep. What does your heart tell you?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "I'm leaning toward taking him. I feel like even though it will be hard now, he will appreciate it. And it will open up the opportunity to talk about what happened."

I take a sip of my drink, gathering my thoughts. "If it were me, I'd want the chance to say goodbye, even if it was hard. Opie's young, but he's perceptive. I think you're right. Seeing her will help him process the news when you give it to him."

"If I take him, I would be so sad to have to leave you here. Of course you could stay at my house, come and go as you please. But the thought of you here and me gone rips my heart out of my chest."

"Thank you for your kind offer. Depending on what Dr. Hampton says, I may take you up on it. But either way, if your heart is leading you there, I think you should go, Shep. I'll be fine. And we will see each other when you get back."

We talk some more about it. Shep is so much more thoughtful than I remember him ever being before. He weighs everything when deciding and is aware of how his choices affect those around him.

Since we are opening up, I decide to bring up the nagging questions I've had since talking to Isabella the other day. With everything going on in our lives—my absence from work, everything with my hand, and now Ari and Opie—I wonder if our timing is off.

I take a deep breath and jump in with both feet.