Chapter 40

My stomach just started to feel normal, my pulse returning to the normal thrum, and now this.

The stretcher I'm on is being moved past where Clara sits, and I look up at the driver.

"Pull over."

I'll hand it to him, the EMT sees the seriousness in my face and immediately listens to my request.

I don't take the help he offers as I limp over to Clara. I've walked on worse injuries before, and the wound is all freshly cleaned and bandaged, anyway.

As I walk over, Clara's eyes dip down to the ground, and I see the EMT next to her look back and forth between us.

"Give us a minute, would you?" I glance at her as I step right in front of Clara, and she hesitates.

"Sir, you both need?—"

"We need two minutes." I meet her stare. "Please."

After a moment, she nods, and Clara and I are left alone, a moment of quiet in all the chaos surrounding us.

I hear Marco and more of the Cobras yelling behind me. I'm not about to get distracted, though.

"Luke, I…"

She's not looking at me, so I take her chin and tip her face up.

"What did you just say, doc? Cuz I'm going to need to hear that one again."

With a sharp single laugh-snort through her nose, Clara nods. Her fingers come to mine on her chin, and she takes my hand.

"You should sit."

I cock a brow.

"For your leg's sake, Luke. Come on."

I sigh, taking a seat next to her in the open back of the ambulance. "Now spill."

"I'm pregnant." Clara releases a heavy breath.

"Didn't think that was possible." I stroke my thumb across the back of her hand.

"It's not supposed to be. I probably have a million tests in my future if I go through with this, but…yeah."

"How far?—"

"Not long at all. A few days, maybe a week. It must've happened that first time we…"

I can't stop the laugh. It's like something out of one of the movies they show in a high school health class.

"The first time. Ha! I guess it really can happen, then, huh?"

Clara rolls her eyes at me. "Yes. Well, of course, it can. I just didn't…I was explicitly told I couldn't get pregnant. I'll be having a word with Dr. Winkler."

She lets out a wry chuckle before clamming up.

Furrowing my brow, I scrub a hand over my face. "When did you find out?"

"Just before I was attacked at the hospital. When Dr. Carter…"

My chest pinches, and I reflexively squeeze Clara's hands.

"Right before our fight. Right before all this. Jesus. That's some luck we have."

That nervous chuckle filters out of her again, and I realize my hand is very near her stomach. Brushing my knuckles over the area makes Clara look up at me.

"I know this is a lot. Hell, I'm definitely still reeling, but…" She swallows, her breaths shuddering. "Do we…do you want to try…this?"

I'm completely blown away by the news. My brain is swimming in leftover adrenaline, and my damn leg is still killing me.

I've been without parents for a while now. I'm not even sure if either one of them ever really thought about me or my brothers.

I'm coming to grips with the fact that I have severe PTSD from my time in the military, and it's made me a damn alcoholic.

I haven't had long-term relationships, like, ever, and my job is pretty demanding of my time.

There are more than a few reasons I should just say no and leave Clara alone. She gets to decide what to do with her own body.

If she doesn't want this, it's not up to me, and she'd be much better off without me in her life.

And still…

Clara is staring up at me, her eyes wide and shining with unshed tears.

"Do you?" I ask, my voice raspy.

"I don't know." She shrugs, one of those tears finally slipping free and trickling down her face before she swipes it away. "We pushed each other away pretty damn hard, Luke."

She's not wrong. As much as I wanted her, I was subconsciously keeping her at arm's length by not telling her what was going on with me.

Every time I had a nightmare, I could have said something. Whenever Clara asked, I should have told her.

But I didn't out of some bullshit attachment to my pride.

"I don't know if we're good together. I have my career to think about, and you…"

She sighs, dropping my hands to rake her own through her hair and then scrub them over her face.

"Look, I'm not trying to be callous or rude, but you have some things you need to work out. You know that, right?"

All I can do is nod. "Yeah. I do."

Clara nods back. "I mean, the drinking is a problem. I'm sure you have a reason behind it, but Luke, that has to be dealt with."

I rub across the stubble around my mouth, a dull nausea swimming in the background.

It's been a few hours since I've had one of those drinks that I need to give up, and I know I'll have to deal with that soon.

Adjusting in place, Clara scoots back from me some, and my heart damn near cracks in two.

I don't want her moving away from me. Dammit, this hurts.

"We were barely together when all this happened. Do we really want to add a child into the mix? Do we really want to…be together? Can you handle that? Can I?"

Nothing Clara is saying is wrong or untrue. It's logical, and there's a lot of evidence and factors working against us.

Not the least of which is that I have to do something about my drinking.

And I know that's going to be a hell of a process—one I'll likely need her help with if she decides to stick around.

But she's not going to do that unless I give her a damn good reason.

This is it, Luke. What do you want?

Getting up, I take a step away from the ambulance. I see Clara's shoulders droop as she barely makes eye contact with me.

She doesn't hide the sorrow in her expression.

You know what you want.

And then I get down on my knee.

"Oh my God! What are you doing? Is it your leg?"

Clara's brows hit her hairline, and the pain zinging through my thigh is nearly enough to have me passing out.

But not yet. There's something I need to do.

She's about to get up, reaching for my arms to pull me up, so I take her hands again and lock my eyes on hers.

"Luke, you can't bend like that. You're going to?—"

I squeeze Clara's hands, shaking my head to get her attention.

"Clara," I start, a light sweat breaking out along my forehead as I struggle to stay in this position. "I am a damn train wreck. I have PTSD from my time overseas because…I was involved in a really bad shooting."

I've never said the words out loud, even to the few therapists I tried, and I feel like I'm exposing my greatest vulnerability for an audience.

But I will do anything for Clara.

Even this.

"Luke, you don't have to…" She shakes her head. "I'm not expecting you to?—"

"I drink because the nightmares are so bad I can't sleep," I say, cutting her off. "Everything in my life was a way to run away from the pain I was feeling. I never pursued anything meaningful with anyone because it would mean I had to open up about all this, and I was too scared to do that. I've used humor and a who cares attitude to keep everyone at arm's length."

A shuddering breath leaves me as the lightheaded feeling increases.

"And then there was you."

She stares back, tears slowly falling down her face. I hate seeing Clara cry, and my chest feels very much like it could break open.

Still, I need to be honest, and not just with her. The words tumble from my lips as I bleed the truth out for the person that matters most to me to see.

"I don't fucking deserve you—or the incredible person you're apparently growing in there. I don't deserve happiness like you've shown me. You did it anyway. I tried to keep myself from falling for you. But I did it anyway. I thought I wanted easy and fast, and then done, but…"

I reach into my pocket with one hand, wondering if it was fate that got me to put the damn thing in there last night.

Bringing the box to where Clara and I are still clasping each other's hands, I manage to get it open.

The emerald gleams in the sunlight that crests over the top of the taller building; a new day is officially here.

A sob sneaks out of Clara from behind her closed lips, and she shakes her head.

"Oh my God, Luke. It's…"

"An emerald. I remembered."

She smiles through the crying that's broken free at this point.

"I love you, doc. I've loved you since you stuck a needle through my side. You're smart, you're feisty, and you're so damn brave. You make me want to try. To try and be better than I am today."

I take the ring out of the box, tossing it into the back of the ambulance, and then slip the emerald onto just the tip of Clara's finger.

"I will be better. I'll do everything I can to prove that to you. Because I want this. I want you. I want you and a family I can call my own. My father was a piece of shit. It's only been me and my brothers, a few not by blood. I want to create something better than that. And I want to do it with the woman who owns my damn soul."

The ring is poised and ready to go on, and I take one long blink before I look back up at Clara.

"So, please. Say yes."