6arolina 🎀

  “Fucking– deep breaths, deep breaths, Mama,” you squeeze your eyes shut, counting from one to four to inhale, hold for seven and exhale for eight, “He better be fixing the faucet…”

  You march toward the staircase, praying to the skies for Robby to be busy doing something because you told him thag you needed the break after his three month sabbatical. You need to have the silence, the quiet of your home and spend it by getting wine drunk while knowing your daughter is with her dad in the saftey of his place. Vian has her father with him, she should not be needing you now. 

  You love your daughter with every cell — no, scratch that  with every atom — in your body. She wasn’t planned, but not an accident either. She was the most pleasant surprise of your life, a gift when you and Robby needed a glue to your marriage, but even her sweet smiles and babbles couldn’t hold you together for long.

  She is your light, your source of energy, your reason to keep going. She is your entire life, and now, you need Robby to step in and do his fatherly duties.

  You knock on the bathroom door, slowly pushing it open, thinking you’ll find Robby crouched down next to the tub, not inside it, naked with his boxers on and chuckling when Vivin she splashes water on his face.

  “What are you two doing?” You look at them with a shocked look, trying to mask the gentle warmth that spreads through you with an annoyed frown, but when Vivin turns around at the sound of your voice, you grin at her, “Heyyy, what’s up, baby?”

  “Mama, play wit daddy!” She slams her palms on the edge of the water, laughing when water hits Robby’s face and he shakes his head vigorously to splash the water back on her, making her squeal and kick her feet in excitement.

  “Yeah, you’re playing with daddy, baby,” you kneel next to the pile of clothes, pinching her chubby cheek when she turns around to look at you, “You like the water? Maybe we should sign you up for swimming classes.”

  “She’s 2, sweetheart,” you pin him with a glare at the pet name before diverting your attention to your daughter, running your fingers over her small back, pouring water with your palm over her shoulders. Robby swallows hard, holding your daughter up by her armpits before turning her around so she is leaning back on his chest, “Maybe when she’s 3…?”

  “Yeah, we’ll talk about it,” you say dismissively, cooing when Vian picks up her duck toy and starts dipping her into the water, letting it spring back up to the surface with a delightful giggle, craning her small neck to look at Robby, making sure he’s seen her magic too.

  They look the carbon copy of each other. She is his daughter through and through; brunette hair, big bobba irises with the same gleam in their eyes. You fell in love with one pair once, and now you have another with sprinkles of your own beauty.

  If only Robby didn’t pull away, if only he could see you as someone he trusted…

  “How did she convince you to get in with her?” You rest the side of your face on your arm on the edge of the tub, not bothering to even look at Robby, “That’s her trick, you know? She tries her hardest to get me in with her every time.”

  “I… caved really fast,” he smiles shyly, trying to catch your gaze and when he does, the breath is knocked out of your lungs and you are reminded of how much you loved this man. You still do, but the pain he caused you and the regular fights you had the last few months of your marriage weree too hurtful to brush under the rug. 

  “She has a way of persuading people,” you smile when she stands on her feet slowly, Robby holding her by the waist and help her stumble closer to you, “Prettiest girl in the world,” she leans down to rub her nose against yours, a habit you both have when you wanna show affection — somethimg you used to do with Robby too when he was having a tough day.

  “Her mother’s daughter, I don’t even stand a chance,” he leans forward to kiss the back of her head, “Think we should get out, sweetpea. The water’s getting cold.”

  “Yeah, let me get her towel.”

  “Out?” She turns around to look at Robby, a pout forming on her flushed chubby cheeks, shaking her head side to side, “No, Vivi don’t want out!”

  “You’ll catch a cold if you don’t get out, baby bear,” you wait with open arms on the floor, watching as Robby kiss Vian’s face softly before lowering her in front of you, and you have the chance to wrap the towel around her and blow raspberries on her stomach to prevent a crying session.

  She doesn’t cry often, and even when she does, she is so quiet. She pouts a lot, cries softly, sobs on occasion but never a full breakdown. Except for one time you and Robby were having a screaming match and were reminded that you were responsible for a little human being and you had to watcg yourself.

  “I love you so much,” you mumble into her hair, drying her arms and holding her close as you stand up and put her on the sink, “Look at my clean girl! Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.”

  “Lobe you!” She yells, kicking her legs happily as she allows you to wipe her face with the towel, “Lobe you, Mama!”

  “What about me?” You both look at Robby stepping out of the tub, his chest dripping with water as he shyly rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks and neck flushing under your watchful eyes.

  “Lobe you, daddy! Lobe you, lobe you, lobe you!” She makes grabby hands at him, and he leans forward to kiss both of her fists before straightening his back so he doesn’t get her wet again, “Huggies?”

  “Huggies later, baby bear, let’s get you clothed first,” you pull the towel’s hat over her head and and pick her up, kissing her cheek while you turn your back to Robby, letting her wave and give him a quick kiss. You glance over your shoulder at him, “Y’know where the towels are, right?”

  “Yes, I do,” he replies quickly, waiting for you to get out of the bathroom to get rid of his boxers and dry his body, “Same cabinet?”

  “Yup,” you close the door behind you, making a beViane for Vian’s room, holding her closer when you feel her shiver in your arms, “Let’s put on something warm before you leave with daddy, little bear.”

  “I go wit daddy?” She asks quietly, patiently waiting for you to come back when you lay her down on her changing sheets and hand out her favorite toy — ironically, Robby’s childhood teddy bear — as you pull out a diaper and long sleeve onesie with a pretty pair of pants that go with the color of her top. 

  “Yes, baby. Daddy’s taking you home with him tonight and you get to spend it together! I’m sure you miss Jerry and Sully!” You say enthusiastically, desperately trying not to show how you won’t come back for the night to pick her up. “I’m sure you’ll have so much fun.”

  “You come too?” Oh no. “Daddy, Vivi, Mama, sleepoer!”

  “I have work to do, baby,” you dress her quickly, let out a soft gasp when her face twists and she sneezes loudly, her small body shaking for a second. You chuckle a little and kiss her forehead, standing her up on her feet to pull her pants up, “Bless you!”

  “Tank you!” She holds your shoulders, swaying back and forth with her teddy tucked under her arm, “Mama, daddy’s friend be there?”

  “Daddy’s friend? You mean uncle Jack, baby?” You pick her up, putting her on your hip as you walk to her drawer to pull out a strawberry hairclip and her small hair dryer because she despises yours, sitting with her in your lap in front of the mirror, “Jack and Dana might be there, but you have to ask daddy.”

  “No, Null!” She frowns, pushing her bottom lip out a little and that makes you stop. She kicks her leg patiently as you dry her hair, deep in thoughts as you untangle her soft strands slowly with her small brush, breathing her scent so deeply you’re sure you’ve carved the smell of heaven deep in your Limbic system. 

  “Null? Who’s Null, baby?” You turn off the dryer and pull it out of the plug, clipping her small bangs with lots of small kisses to the crown of her head, and suddenly, it dawns on you who she is talking about.Noelle. Noelle Hastings. The Noell Hastings you’ve had buttheads with over cases, the beautiful gorgeous tantalizing Noelle Hastings, the one who’d always flirted with your husband, the same fucking one he was seeing before he left for his sabbatical. And you had no idea your daughter had met her. “You mean Noelle, sweetling?”

  “Yup, yup,” she slowly wiggles her way out of your arms and on the floor, urging you to get up and hold her hand as to keep her from bolting downstairs, her small hand fits perfectly in yours and she seems very pleased by the safety your fingers bring her, “Null. She at daddy house! I saw her, Mama!”

  “I believe you, baby bear,” you nod and grin at her, smoothing your free hand over the small frown on her face before you lead her out of the room — or she does with how hard she is pulling on your hand — and downstairs to where Robby probably is waiting. “Do you want to watch Frozen again?”

  “Really?” Her eyes light up, a huge smile covering her face, “Please, please! Ice cream too?”

  “You just got out of the shower, baby bear! I tell daddy, see if he has some at his place,” you haul her up by one hand on the last stair, making her squeal and laugh in delight by the short adrenaline rush in her small body, “Do you need help with the tv or–”

  “No help! Vivi know how to put favorite!” 

  “Of course you do,” you shake your head affectionately, walking through the living room as you watch her bolt for the remote. You make sure she is sitting with her teddy bear before turning around to make your way to the kitchen, finding Robby leaning on the counter with his eyes on his daughter, “We need to talk.”

  “Sure, is it about–”

  “Listen, Robby,” you stand closer, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathe in the cleanness and warmth of his body, looking down at your toes to regulate your thoughts. He shouldn’t have this effect on you anymore. But he does. Oh, he does. He is still so beautiful, and so overwhelmingly secure as he stands in front of you. “you are free to do as you please, okay? I don’t mean…”

  “I’m not sure I follow, sweetheart–”

  “Stop, stop,” you groan, stroking your neck in anxiety, “Look, I don’t care who you bring home, or spend your time with, or who you fuck,” oh, but you do, “What I care about is you keep my daughter away from them until you are in a serious relationship then we will talk. But ‘till then, Robby, keep your flings away from Vivi.”

  “I have never brought anyone near our daughter,” he catches your gaze by lowering his head until you are eye to eye, and you can see the fire in his irises, “I haven’t even had sex since I left for Alberta, and that’s a good four months ago. I’m not seeing anyone, not that I need to explain anything to you–”

  “Bravo! Thank you for keeping your dick in your pants, but I have a question though, pray tell, how the fuck does she know Noelle fucking Hastings?” You cock your head to the side, glaring at him with all the fire in your eyes, “Because she frowned when she found out she was gonna come to your place. She asked if she’d be there. I swear, Robby, if she has met my daughter and you haven’t told me, I’ll skin you alive myself.”

  “I have nev– oh.”

  “Yeah, oh is fucking right,” you roll your eyes so hard you are relieved you don’t get a headache immediately, “Talk and I mean actually say everything that happened.”

  “It wasn’t that they met,” he sighs, resting his palm on the countertop while the other goes to his hip, his eyes dashing toward Vian who sings happily with Elsa and runs ariund the living room, smiling at the sight of her before he turns back to you, “It was a night when she was staying with me before July. I forgot to tell Noelle that our plans were cancelled, and she accidentally drove to my place. I couldn’t really send her away like that so she came inside, and they saw each other very briefly–”

  “I don’t want any woman around my daughter unless you are serious about her,” you try to sound stern but Robby’s expression is so attentive you want to scream, “I don’t like Hastings but that’s because of our jobs,” No, you also don’t like her because you’re jealous. She is very beautiful and not a mother, but he doesn’t need to know that, “If you want her to be a permanent presence in your life–”

  “We stopped talking after I left Pittsburgh,” he is so subtle with the way he shifts until he has your back pressed againstthe counter and his hands are on both sides, caging you against his body, “It was just a fling, nothing serious, nothing worth fighting over.”

  “I don’t care,” you whisper, a little breathless, a little angry at him for knowing how to make you cave, “I only care when it affects my daughter.”

  “Good to know,” he laughs a little, and for a second you think he might turn this into a crazy minute of self hatred towards himself like he used to back when you were married, ‘You’re telling me I don’t care about my daughter?’ Would probably be the first line and followed by a ‘You think I’m incable of caring about her’, and that’d end up in a screaming match.

  But now, he is just smiling sadly, and you can feel how his hands are itching to hold onto your waist, his face mere inches away from yours as he leans down a little to press a kiss to your forehead. 

  Your breath hitches, chest aching with so much unresolved tension and feViangs for the man in front of you. You try not to close your eyes and give into the strong urges that are screaming inside your head to let go and enjoy. 

  “I won’t jeopardize our family over a hookup, sweetheart.”

  “Stop,” you hiss, pushing him away by your hands on his chest, ignoring the pained look he gives you. “Stop doing whatever you’re doing right now. I can’t handle you being like- like this!”

  “Like what?” He whispers, hands coming up to hold you by the wrists, making sure he is looking straight into your eyes, “I want to mend what I’ve broken–”

  “We are divorced–”

  “I want our family to get back together. I want to try and be better for Vivi, for you, for myself. I need this to happen or I’ll lose my mind–”

  “You will lose your mind?” You let out a quick hysterical laugh, pushing him away completely, freeing your hands from his grasp, “I have been losing my mind for months! You think it’s easy to just go to work and be met with awful stares when I have to come down to your ED? Mending what’s broken doesn’t happen over a single night. I don’t fucking trust you, you broke my heart, Robby. I loved you but you broke my fucking heart.”

  “I–”

  “Mama! Daddy!” Vian runs to the two of you, and you have to look up at the ceiling to dry your tears. She doesn’t like it when either of you are crying. Robby is quicker to get himself together, smiling broadly and kneViang down to her height. She wraps her arms around her neck and crawls onto his lap, “Olaf here! Watch wit me!”

  “Let’s go,” he picks her up, looking at you when Vian reaches for your hand to get your attention, “You coming?”

  “Of course! I can never miss my favorite movie,” you follow them through the living room, waiting for Robby to sit down first and place Vivi next to him. You sit down and she immediately starts snuggling into your side, her small hand wrapped tightly around two of his fingers.

  “Jack’s gonna drop Samira here, you wanna go with him to his place?” You ask Robby, your hand moving up and down Vivi’s back, your chin resting on the top of her head as uou look at your ex husband softly, “Or you both could stay for dinner–”

  “No, no,” he shakes his head, his eyes not leaving the TV as he plays with his daughter’s fingers absentmindedly, “I talked to him a few hours ago, we’ll go to my place. You need a break and definitely a girl’s night with Samira.”

  “You’re right for the first time in a very long time,” you huff out a smal laugh when Robby snorts and shakes his head, “I need to get wine drunk.”

  “Absolutely, and me and this little girl,” he leans down to bury his face into Vian’s neck to tickle her, enjoying how she tries to push him away with a shriek, “Will have an amazing sleepover with Uncle Jack.”

  “Unce Jack?” Her ears perk up at the sound, eyes wide and glimmering with hope and excitement, “He coming too?”

  “Of course, baby bear,” he chuckles when he sees her grinning and clutching her teddy in her hands, snuggling closer to your side in contentment, “He’s gonna stay for dinner too.”

  “Happy meal?” She crawls into his lap this time, whispering to him with a quiet giggle, “with strawberry milkshake?”

  “Shhh, don’t let Mama hear you,” he whispers, loud enough for you to actually hear, and you shake your head and look at the tv with a grin on your face. Hell, you fucking love Vian. “But yeah, whatever you want, we’ll get it with uncle Jack.”

  “Yeeeees,” she holds her fist up, and Robby throws his head back and laughs loudly, bringing his own fist up to slowly bump it into hers.

  “How did you learn that, sweetpea?”

  “You and unce Jack do,” she shrugs and turns around, her back to his chest as she resumes watching her cartoon.

  You cackle at the thought of her observing her favorite people so closely to the point of learning their habits. She has a tendency of watching, listening, noticing small details that no one else does. It’s cute, and it’s very Robby — minus the listening because he did not listen when you wanted him to.

  ****

  None of you notice how the time passes, but Robby does. He notices the warmth that radiates from your arm as you and Vian somehow end up cuddling him on the couch. He notices the scrunch of your nose in affection when Vivi laughs. He notices the small stain on the collar of your shirt from your daughter’s snack. He also notices the not so subtle sneezes that come from his little girl, but he keeps his mouth shut because he is not going to ruin your night.

  He notices everything about his girls.

  His eyes are wandering all over your face, taking in the slight twitch of your eyes when Anna stars freezing and so does your daughter, clutching her teddy furiously in her small fists.

  And then your eyes… your lashes kiss your under eye everytime you blink, they keep your gorgeous irises safe from the world, and now, you are gazing up at him and he needs to pull his head out of his ass and fucking focus.

  “You okay?” You ask, straightening your back, “You’re not watching.”

  “Yeah, no–”

  Ding. Ding.

  “I’ll get it,” you kiss the top of Vivi’s head before walking towards the door, sighing in relief when Samira and Jack come into view, Samira holding a large tote bag with two wine bottles and lots of snacks inside. “It’s so fucking good to see you.”

  “Hey, lovey,” she hugs you after she hands the bag to Jack, engulfing you in a tight hug, humming when she feels your arms tightening around her, “Missed you so much.”

  “Hey, what ‘bout me?” Jack scoffs playfully, but his voice is enough to alert someone from the couch.

  “UNCE JACK!”

  She is fierce with how she jumps out of Robby’s arms and bolts to the door. You have approximately thirteen seconds to pull Samira out of the way and watch as she throws herself into Jack’s arms, who easily catches her with one arm.

  “Heey,” Jack chuckles and picks her up effortlessly, “‘sup soldier?”

  “‘Sup captain?” She gives a military salute, giggling when he kisses her cheek, “You come wit us?”

  “Absolutely, I bought your dog and cat food, too. Heard we also gonna get some happy meal for ourselves, yeah?” She nods happily, kicking her feet and wrapping her free arm around his neck.

  “Are you ignoring me?” Samira pokes her head between their bodies to get Vian’s attention, and when she does, now she is the one who is holding Vivi in her arms. She is way too quick to jump from one hug to another, and she loves it.

  “Mira!”

  “Auntie ‘Mira, baby.” You stand back and let her marvel in their attention before she has to go, enjoying the kisses and giggles she lets out while they hold her.

  “Hey, brother,” Robby makes his way toward the group, Vivi’s coat and bag on his shoulder as they clap and give each other a side hug before he looks at Samira, “Hey, how are you?”

  “Fine,” she nods, bouncing Vivi in her arms before she puts her down, kissing her head and getting her bag back, “Have a great night, guys. Now, shoo shoo, we have work to do.”

  “Mamaaaaaaa I miss you,” you kneel down to meet her bear hug, holding her close and tightly, pressing kiss after kiss to her soft hair, “I lobe you.”

  “I love you, too, baby bear.” You pull back a little to look in her eyes, cupping her face in your hands, rubbing your nose along hers, “I’m gonna miss you so much, but you are with daddy and he takes such a good care of you! Listen to him just as you always do and send me pictures!”

  “Okay,” she hugs you one last time before giving Samira a kiss and skip to where Jack is standing, holding his hand as he helps her put her shoes on.

  “I’m only a call away, Robby–”

  “I know–”

  “If anything happens, just call me, I’ll be there under ten minutes–”

  “It’s a twenty minutes drive, please, sweetheart,” he grabs your arms, forcing you to breathe for a second befote he kisses your forehead gently, “I’m her dad, I know what I’m doing. Please, enjoy your night. Samira,” she looks at the woman standing behind you, “Please, keep her occupied. Thank you.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  “Take care of yourself, get drunk, and don’t do anything stupid,” he squeezes your arms again then follows Jack and Vivi out of the house, “Have a great night, ladies!”

  ****

  “She’s been sneezing.”

  “I know.”

  “Coughing too.”

  “I know.”

  “She’s also a bit warm—”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, I know!”

  “Bad word!” Vian stabs Robby with a fry before pushing the entire thing into her mouth and Jerry — Robby’s German Shepherd resting under her feet — makes a grumbling noise that makes her smile for a second, “Why fighting?”

  “We’re not fighting, baby bear. We’re diagnosing,” He nods at her, eating his own meal as his watchful eyes stare at her with such an intensity, “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired,” she replies quietly, her usual cheery expression by a shadow Robby knows so well. She is sick and he hates it. “Vivi don’t want milkshake.”

  “Why not, sweet girl?” Jack runs his hand over her head, shaking his head as he feels the warmth of her skin, “Do you want some water?”

  “Vivi don’t feel good, daddy,” she pouts, crawling into his lap and ignoring her meal and Uncle Jack. It must be that bad to not care about her favorite non parent person. She clucthes Robby’s shirt and her teddy tightly, sniffing a little, “Want Mama.”

  “Mama’s busy, let’s eat something while uncle Jack brings us some medicine, okay?” Jack is already in the kitchen, rummaging through Robby’s cabinet until he finds the pills and whatever his friend owns. “Another nugget?”

  “No,” she shakes her head, forehead slumping against Robby’s solid chest, trying to make herelf as small as possible and Robby wraps his arms around her, “Want huggies.”

  “I’m giving you huggies, little bear. Let’s go wash your face and feet and get in bed together until uncle Jack brings your favorite medicine, okay?”

  “Strawberry?” She rests her head on his biceps as he picks her up, kissing her forehead as he gazes gently down at her. She is warm, and he hates it. He knows what it is, he knows it from her sluggish grasp, the smell of her breath, her sulken eyes and pale features. 

  “Yes, sweetpea, with water too. But we gotta get your temperature down a little first.” She groans a little before he sits her on the sink and turns on the faucet, wetting his hands with cool water before he gently rubs her feet, tickling under her toes until she lets out a tired giggle — it’s a giggle nonetheless. A win’s a win.

  Robby changes her clothes and when he enters his own room, Jack’s already waiting with the medicine. They gently coax her to swallow the bitter strawberry acetaminophen with her favorite water bottle and tuck her under the blanket. Sully — your cat who you’ve given her to Robby for a few days to take care of — sneaks under the blanket to snuggle Vian and her teddy.

  She’s out like a light.

  “You should call her.”

  “I can take care of my sick daughter, Jack.” Robby’s pinned to his spot with a glare from his friend. He shakes his head, stroking Vivi’s hair so softly it’s barely noticeable, “I don’t want to ruin her night.”

  “You won’t, but if you don’t tell her, she’ll be fucking furious,” Jack stands up, stretching his arms over his head, giving Robby a sympathetic yet pointed look, “Call her.”

  “She thinks I’m incapable of…” he inhales sharply, feViang the back of his throat stinging as he looks down at his daughter — her cheeks tainted red with her fever — and he reaches down to kiss her brows, “I don’t want her to think I’m a bad father.”

  “Vivi’s fighting a virus, she won’t think you’re anything other than a capable caring father. That’s it. She’d be angrier if she didn’t get a call from you now.”

  “I’ll call her when I think Vivi’s stable.”

  “Okay, well, I told you what you had to know,” Jack sighs, resting his hands on his hips as he shakes his head, “I’m gonna go pick Samira up. Call her, please.”

  ****

  “He is fucking with my head, Mira!” 

  “When is he not?” 

  “Ugh, I hate him but I also fucking love him,” your feign a cry, throwing your head back on the couch’s arm, tangling your legs with Samira’s as you both drink the one third of the second bottle, “He’s been so nice since he got back. He’s only sat behind the motorcycle once! He’s been sending gigantic amounts of money to Vian’s saving account, he’s also bought me a new car. But money can’t solve everything!”

  “Of course it can’t! But… I’m totally one hundred percent on your side, but we gotta give him credit, he’s not once skipped a therapy sessions in the past month.” Samira shrugs, squeezing your knee when you glare at her, “Look, he fucked up, like really fucking bad. He pulled away from you, he didn’t talk to you, he… said things that broke your heart real bad– I don’t know! It’s just… he’s be so oddly nice, even to me, and you know how he used to treat me.”

  “He was a dick, he is still a dick. Sometimes he forgets we’re not married anymore! He touches and kisses and waltz inside my house and fixes things and tries to talk to me about getting back together but—“ you take a deep breath, “Mira, did you know he was sleeping with Hastings?”

  “What?!”

  “Yeah, before he left for his spiritual trip in the open road,” you roll your eyes, drowning the rest of your wine before you sit up, “She is so hot and gorgeous, and I’m… I’m me, Mira! She doesn’t have stretch marks, a c-section scar, she is fit and flirtious and so dreamy! How am I ever gonna fill her shoes?”

  “Honey, you’re not gonna fill her shoes. It was her that tried to fill your shoes and failed. Look where Robby is now! You should try and put him in his place one way or another.”

  “Look at you, expert in relationships,” you cackle and shriek when she slaps your side, “Abbot is treating you so well, huh?”

  “You’re the expert in relationships! You’ve been married!” She tries to argue with you, but you can see the slights flustered look in her eyes. Oh, she is down baaad.

  “And fucking divorced too! No expert is divorced with a kid, Mira,” you sit up, pouring more wine into your glass, “It’s so bizarre, y’know? He is everywhere in this house; in my bedroom, in the kitchen, in Vivi’s room. He haunts this place when he isn’t around and when he is… Vivi’s so happy. She is smiling and laughing all the time and I hate myself for taking that away from her at such an early age.”

  “Babe, you did what was best at the time, okay? You were hurting and that was affecting your job as a doctor and as a mother. Robby wasn’t okay, he wasn’t capable of making a rational choice, you did what you had to.” She reaches to wipe your tears with a small ‘awe, lovey’, and kisses your shoulder before pulling you to her side, “You didn’t take anything from Vian. Maybe now… you can work on getting back together.”

  “Okay, first of all, no.” You point at her, shaking your head, eyes dazed and looking down at your glass, “I ain’t gonna just take him back like that. He hurt me, okay? Really fucking hurt me and I was so broken for months. You saw me, Mira, every time I came down for a consult I looked like shit. I don’t want that again, I need- need stability from him.”

  “Maybe he can offer stability this time,” her hands find your hair when you flop down on top of her, “Let me tell you something, I have an insane resource at home, and he may or may not have mentioned how much… Robby has missed you.”

  “Fuck him.”

  “That’s a terrible idea.”

  “No like literally, fuck him.”

  “I mean… maybe not so terrible if you can blow off some steam–”

  “Get the fuck out of my face,” you sit up and chuckle lightheartedly, “If I fuck him, then we’ll be both screwed. It’ll make things waaaay worse.”

  “Okay, yeah—”

  Ding. Ding.

  “Damn, you gotta go this soon?” You pout, engulfing her in a tight hug on the couch, not letting her get up, “Nooooo. I hate how your boyfriend’s getting more time with you than me. Is he your favorite attending now too?”

  “Absolutely fucking not! My favorite attending is the hot cardiologist upstairs who has the sweetest baby girl in the world,” she kisses your forehead and gently untangles herself from you, both of you making haste when you hear Jack knock on the door.

  “I’ll get it,” you squeeze her arm before going for the door, opening it and giving Jack a small smile, “Hey you.”

  “Hello,” Jack gives you a tired easy smile before pointing at Samira, “Came to steal this one from you.”

  “Very rude and unpleasant of you, we were having an amaaaazing time, weren’t we, Mira?” 

  “Of course, lovey,” she comes and embraces you tightly, holding you close and rocking you side to side gently, which makes Jack snort, showing how drunk the two of you really are. “See you soon?”

  “Yup, absolutely!”

  “Before we go…” Jack starts, looking straight into your eyes and holding Samira by the elbow as she tries to put her shoes on without wobbling, “There’s something I must tell you.”

  “I don’t like your tone,” you say, heart rate picking up in an instant, mind already wheViang around with ten thousand different scenarios. You try not to show it, try to shove the stress down, but you are already fidgeting with your fingers and shifting your weight from one foot fo another in less than thirty seconds over and over.

  “Yeah, you won’t like what I have to say,” Jack says, eyes darting from your face to your hands, but Samira beats it to him and reaches to hold you with steady fingers. He gazes at her with a grateful smile before he looks back at you, “Deep breaths, okay? Vivi’s sick–”

  “What the fuck?!” You sqreech like a hen, already reaching for your coat and you would have been successful if Samira didn’t grab you by your shoulders to stop you, “What do you mean she is sick?Was she vomiting? Did she had too much milkshake? I told him not to give her too much, but she is so fucking convincing–”

  “Hey, hey,” Jack grabs your shoulder over Samira’s hand, squeezing you gently to get your attention amidst your spiral, “She isn’t vomiting, she is stable, she didn’t have any milkshake, she could barely even eat her dinner–”

  “She didn’t eat?! What the fuck were you two doing? Did you even give her medicine? Can’t even give my daughter to fucking doctors–”

  “Okay, you’re reaching now.” Jack’s halfhearted glare is enough to pin you to your spot, but his expression softens immediately when he notices the tears coating your lashline, so does Samira, pulling you in a tight hug. Jack sighs, “Sober up, sleep a few hours, then go to Robby’s place. It’s just a cold, okay? She is fine.”

  “She clearly isn’t, she is sick! Why didn’t he call me?” You break away from them, running your hands down your face, tears falling from your eyes as you start pacing around, “She was sneezing today… fuck, I’m such an idiot, I should have noticed the signs. Why didn’t Robby say anything?”

  “Because he didn’t want you to think he isn’t capable of taking care of his daughter,” Jack sighs, and you stop dead in your tracks in front of him. “He said he’ll tell you when she slept it off for the night, he didn’t want to ruin your night. He said you deserved to have this, but I couldn’t keep this to myself.”

  You take a shaky breath, hands mindlessly reaching for Samira, and she silently grabs you, linking her fingers through yours as she waits for you to process everything. 

  Your baby is sick. She is sick and she is away from you. You wish you could have done something more, but alcohol is running in your system and it’s dulling your senses. All senses except the intense anxiety inside your core.

  Robby. Fuck, Robby… he thinks you find him incapable. And that couldn’t be any farther from the truth. You know he loves Vian to the point he’d do unspeakable things to keep her safe and sound. Hell, he’d even break his leg if it meant she’d laugh. Of course you think he can take care of her. He’s her father, and she is his everything. He’d bend mountains for her to heal her. She is in good hands, and it pains you to know he thinks that negatively.

  But you’re a mother, and mothers get anxious and antsy when their child is sick, right?

  “Listen, hun,” Samira’s gentle voice coaxes you out of your mind, grounding you until she is sure you are listening, “Drink a glass of water, pop an Advil and sleep. Vivi needs her mom focused and ready, you can’t do anything for her if you’re not well.”

  “Mira’s right,” Jack says, “Please, listen to her. Take care of yourself first, then you can go and tend to Vivi.”

  “My baby’s sick,” you pout, wiping your tears a bit too harshly, “Fuck, she’s sick! I didn’t even notice it!”

  “And that’s okay,” Samira replies gently, her hands stroking your arms, her eyes holding a gentle sympathetic swirl in them, “You’re allowed to miss a few signs.”

  “But I’m a doctor, if I miss something, I might kill my patient–”

  “Alright, that’s enough of you being awake. Let’s get you in bed,” Jack takes off his shoes quickly you don’t even get to notice him struggling with his right one, “You sleep, then you get to his place. You must listen to me, for Vivi’s sake.”

  With a sniffle, you nod.

  ****

  Four hours. That’s how much sleep you managed to get before you were sprinting up with heart palpitations. You had to get to Robby’s place immediately.

  You managed to grab everything you needed for a noodle soup from your fridge, Vivi’s medicine from your cabinet, filled another bag with her clothes and toys and her favorite blanket. 

  And as you said earlier evening; you managed to turn a twenty minute to a ten minute drive. Passing a few red lights carelessly and holding onto the wheel so tightly your knuckles begin to hurt. You are relentless with how you drive, going past the drive limit and bouncing your left knee when you had to stop.

  Soon, you are knocking on Robby’s door softly, not really wishing to wake your daughter up. You are shaking in your spot, fingers tightening and loosing around the bags you carry rapidly. You shift your weight, rapping your knuckles against the door again until you hear a soft padding inside, and the mere movement inside makes you sigh in relief.

  Robby opens the door, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the dark circles around his eyes and the sulken sick look on his face. You sigh sadly, biting your bottom lip as you gaze at him tenderly. 

  “You look like shit,” you say, walking inside the house after he pushes the door open fully. You drop the bags on the dining table gently, turning around to look at him with a small exhale.

  “Gee, thanks,” his own eyes widen in surprise at the hoarseness of his voice, clearing his throat to make it better only for his voice to not come out completely, “Fuck…”

  “How is she?” You cross the space between the two of you, reaching to grab his hand and not to your surprise, you find his skin warmer than usual — warmer than it is supposed to be — and you press your fingers over his Radial pulse, counting each beat under your skin.

  “Knocked out on acetaminophen, didn’t even need convincing to go to bed.” He explains, closing his eyes when your cool palm comes in contact with his cheek gently, then the back of your fingers on his forehead, “We gave her food and tried to tell her to finish her meal but… all in vain.”

  “It’s okay– oh, hey, baby,” Jerry pants at your feet, standing on his feet with his paws on your stomach as he stands up and waits for his ear scratches — no barking though, as if he knows someone is asleep upstairs. “I missed you so much.”

  “What did you bring?” Robby coughs, covering them with his elbow, and you kiss Jerry’s head before diverting your attention back to Robby, shaking your head in disapproval, and he rolls his eyes, “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” You cross your arms over your chest, looking at him over the edge of your glasses.

  “Like I’m sick.”

  “Are you not?” You scoff and move to the kitchen, finding the medicine box already on the counter, grabbing the tablets and a glass of water before moving to where he is standing, “Have this and get in the bed.”

  “I’m not sick,” he stands his ground and you have to bite your tongue when you notice his nose scrunching before he is sneezing loudly into his shirt. He groans, his nose turning a bright shade of red and he looks so tired. “Maybe I am.”

  “That’s what I thought,” you hand him the water and pills, “Where is Vivi?”

  “My room,” he whispers, following you upstairs slowly, and you sigh in relief when you find your daughter sleeping quietly with her teddy and Sully in the middle of Robby’s bed, her cheeks flushed and lips parted, signaling her stuffed nose.

  “Oh, baby bear,” you pout, making a beeline to the side of the bed to sit next to her, slowly caressing the few strands that stick to her sweaty forehead, “She looks so small…”

  He doesn’t respond, just sighs and nods, standing in the doorframe with a soft smile on his lips. He is exhausted, but he wants to admire this view as long as he can.

  “Robby, get in the bed,” you say without taking your eyes off Vian, kissing her forehead and rubbing her back, smiling when Sully stirs awake and meows at you, stretching her paws over your hand when you reach to scratch her belly before she jumps out of the bed.

  Your baby looks so small and safe under Robby’s large duvet, tucked under it and breathing with her mouth open. The last time she was sick was also the first time you had to handle it without Robby being around all the time. Her first sickness after your divorce.

  You keep your nose buried in her head, wincing slightly and frowning when she coughs in her sleep, your hand moving to her chest to slowly rub over her shirt, warming up her skin as to soothe her. You can’t do anything besides physical touch for her and it burns you inside out.

  “I’ll take the couch–”

  “Get in the fucking bed,” you scold him gently, standing up to take off your coat and unbutton your jeans before making room in front your daughter on the bed and crawling under the duvet as well, “It’s big enough for all of us. You can’t rest on that damn leather couch.”

  “You still hate that couch, huh?” He smirks but it soon turns into a pained groan as he sits on the bed and crawls under the duvet lying on his side to look at ihis daughter, his dark eyes moving from her rising shoulders to your face, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” You whisper, finger caressing the slope of Vian’s nose slowly, smiling when you glance at Robby’s face, finding the same curve on his face as well.

  Robby’s hand finds Vivi’s small legs, slowly tracing gently up and down before his eyes begin to get drowsy, but before the medicine takes over his mind, putting him in a deep hazy state.

  “S’rry for ruinin’ your night…”

  Your heart breaks into a millions pieces the way he says it; so defeated, so fragile. You didn’t know he was beating himself up this bad. After your divorce, coparenting and cardio consultation were the only visible strings between you, but the invisible ones… the heartache, the longing, the missing hours on your cold beds. You knew Robby like the back of your hand, but after divorce, you had to be the one who pulled away and stopped giving him multiple chances just to keep him around.

  But this… this fear of upsetting you, this fear of how you perceive him after your divorce is new. 

  “Sleep well, bear,” you kiss your daughter’s head, eyes trained on Robby’s flushed cheeks and eyelashes kissing his cheeks. You have to fist the sheets in your hand in order to not reach and touch him, to soothe him when he is sick. 

  You glance between the two of them, wishing you had the power to protect them from everything and anything.

  ****

  “Thanks for coming down,” Robby nods, giving you his signature smile before looking you up and down, making heat rise to your cheeks, “Thought it’d be a good case for teaching.”

  “And you couldn’t do it by yourself, Doctor Robby?” You push your fists into the pockets of your white coat, nudging his elbow with yours, eliciting a shy shrug, “You want me to call her, don’t you?”

  “I mean if you want to–”

  “I always wanna talk to my daughter,” you roll your eyes at him, leaning on the work stations in the southern wing, “But y’know, you could call her yourself. The babysitter doesn’t bite.”

  “She’s young, she might get the wrong idea,” he shrugs like he didn’t just say the funniest thing possible. 

  You try to hold back your laugh, you really try, but it only comes out as a snort and then you are covering your face and laughing as quietly as possible. You missed hiw cockiness, truly, because it wasn’t like he would be outwardly confident about his looks and demeanor, only with you. It’s refreshing getting glimpses of your husband.

  “Not everyone wants to get into your pants, Dr. Robby,” you bite the inside of your cheek, shaking your head as his cheek turn into the nicest shade of red, “She has a boyfriend and she is way younger than you, even youngee than me. Cross my heart she won’t be interested in you other than your money.”

  “How’d you know she has a boyfriend?” He rests his palm on the table, leaning a little closer to you so he can whisper, “Has he hit on you? Do I need to make a move or something–”

  “Oh, please,” you scoff, glaring at him over the rim of your glasses even though you can’t see him clearly like this, “Firt of all, he hasn’t. Second, you’re my ex so technically you have no say in anything regarding my love life and third, we went out for ice cream with the babysitter and Vivi and he came to pick up his girlfriend.”

  “So he met Vivi too? How have I never been told about this–”

  “Jesus, Robby, get your shit together,” you shoulder past him, moving towards the central station with a smile when you notice Samira standing there with a tablet, Robby following you with a slight pout on his lips, “Hey!”

  “Hey, doc,” Samira hugs you, squeezing your arm before she hands you the tablet, “Need your eyes on this one. Robby’s been up my ass about this, ‘call her down call her down’ and when I didn’t he got mad and did it himself.”

  “You seriously bullied Mira to call me down? What are you so afraid of?” You huff out a laugh and look down at the screen, “What do you need me to do about it?”

  “Can you give him a bed upstairs?” He asks, looking at you over your shoulder, standing right behind you as he tries to be subtle about staring at you, “And I’m… afraid of you.”

  “Good, you should be terrified of me, I’m your ex wife, remember?” You give him a sarcastic smile before looking back at Samira, “I think I can find him a bed upstairs. You gotta let me check with my charge nurse first.”

  “Thank you, hun,” you hug her again before she moves to the other side of the room, leaving you and Robby alone again, and Robby takes his time grabbing the tablet from your hands and putting it on the rack next to the others.

  “So…”

  “So?”

  “There’s this thing happening in a few nights, charity for the hospital. Fundraisers, auctions, you name it and it’ll be there. I was told that every head of the department has to attend and I was wondering if you’d come.”

  “Y’know I’m not the head of the department, Dr. Robby. I wasn’t invited, really.” You shrug, turning around to look at him fully now, reaching in your pocket for the phone, “I’d love to spend time with my daughter though.”

  “So… would you like to, I don’t know, pay the babysitter a bit more so she comes on her night off? So you’re free to join me there?”

  “You’re asking me out?” You chuckle, shaking your head, thinking nothing of it because Robby’s your ex husband, you are divorced for a reason, he can’t actually mean it, “You’re funny, Robinavitch.”

  “I try,” he says, grabbing your elbow gently as he guides you to a less crowded hallway, still holding you close. His face is twisted in worry, the voice in his head is screaming at him for being a fucking idiot, but he has talked far too much so he can’t back out anymore, “And… not like that. Not as… lovers or whatever,” he tries to mask it with a quick chuckle, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his neck, “Just as friends. Because I need a plus one.”

  “So you’re not asking me out?” You can feel your heart bursting through your ribcage, and you hate it. He isn’t really asking you out, he is just doing it out of convenience, because why would he? You’re divorced, he has moved on, he wants to become a family because of your daughter but he doesn’t want you. Friends. Fuck friends. “I mean… okay, yeah, sure. I could do friends.”

  “Great! Uhhh… well, I–” he gives a sheepish smile, looking down at his shoes before he meets your eyes again.

  “You still wanna call her?” You roll your eyes at him affectionately, unlocking your phone to press face time over the babysitter’s number, angling the phone until your faces are in the screen, and you’re reminded by the first few days of you coming back to the hospital. You would call Vian to look at her small body move with each breath. Back then, you were fresh out of postpartum and during the last painful months of your marriage.

  “MAMA!” She is running in the living room, the phone rattling in her small hands before she crawls on top of the couch, lying on her stomach with the phone in her face, “Mama Vivi miss you.”

  “I miss you too, ba–”

  “DADDDYYYYYYYY!” You have to turn the volume down immediately, wincing but masking it with a smile, turning around to look at Robby who is grinning as wide as Vivi, waving at her enthusiastically before she starts sitting up, falling with her face on the phone first before she manges to rest her back on the cushions, “Miss you Daddy!”

  “I miss you too, baby bear. So so much,” he says, placing his chin on your shoulder to get a closer look at the screen, definitely not thinking twice before he does it. It catches you off guard, breath hitching and eyes widening at the warmth of him. You can smell his cologne; cool and sandalwood, somehow even sweet which you are sure comes from the conditioner he uses for his beard. 

  “Daddy, come tonight?” She asks, puffing out her cheeks before she brings her teddy bear into the screen, “Hi ted?”

  “Hey, ted!” You and Robby have to stop the small laugh that threatens to fall from your lips when she forces you to acknowledge the existence of her small teddy bear.

  “No, sweetpea, I can’t come tonight,” you keep quiet when he talks, because you know he is the only one who can stop her from getting upset about this. Your heart still breaks after so many nights of doing this to her, telling her her dad can’t be around. Although she puts up a brave face, you notice her pout small tears in her eyes every single time. 

  “But… maybe tomorrow? I can come pick you up in the morning!”

  “Really? Mama! You come too?” 

  “I, well…” you turn around, looking at Robby who is gazing at you with the softest most pleading look in his brown eyes, practically begging you to say yes without uttering a word. You are immediately met with Vian’s identical eyes to her father’s, both pouting and waiting for an answer they hope for. With a sigh, you rub your temple and nod, “Fine, okay, yeah.”

  “Bweakfast! Pancakes– LILY! I go out!” Then she is bolting towards her baby sitter, leaving the phone on the couch as she starts jumping up and down, letting you hang up with a quick ‘goodbye, baby bear’.

  “She’s excited,” he mumbles, pulling himself away from you, clearing his thorat as he purses his lips, looking around the hallway before his eyes fall on you again, “You don’t have to come, y’know? I can always–”

  “If I say I’ll do something, that means I will.” You give him a quick smile, pushing your phone back into your pocket before you walk away, glancing back at him quickly, noticing the way your heart beats faster amd faster when you catch him staring at you with a fond look. Friends. Divorced lovers but friends.

  ****

  “Mama, when daddy come?” She is swinging her feet on the counter as you feed her some apples so she doesn’t get hangry during the drive to her favorite coffee shop. You have her secured with your hands flat next to her small legs.

  “Soon, little bear,” you kiss her forehead, giving her another slice of apple and cinnamon which she takes eagerly, munchin and nodding happily, “What else do you wanna do today?”

  “Sleep wit Mama and daddy, in mama’s bed!”

  “You dream big, huh?” You chuckle, rubbing your palm over her back, wiping the cinnamon off her cheeks. Both of you turn to the sound of the doorbell and glance back at each other, and you have maximum ten seconds to grab Vivi when she launches herself at you, “Okay, okay, let me put you down first!”

  “Down down down,” and she is running for the door happily, waiting for you to unlock the door, rocking on her feet as you approach her and open ir for her. You pull the door and Robby peeks into the house, grinning when Vivi gasps at the bouquets in his hands, “Fowers! Mama, look!”

  “…I can see that,” you glance between the bouquets in his hands curiously, trying to act tough but when you see how happy Vivi is when Robby bends down to kiss her cheek and hands her bouquet to Vian.

  “So pretty! Mama, look!” She holds up her flowers for you to see, it’s almost as big as her body, and starts sniffing the scent of the lilies, “Nice!”

  “Yeah? You like ‘em, baby bear?” Robby stands up after he kisses the crown of her head, looking shyly between you and the bouquet he has brought for you. You stand with your arms crossed over your chest, biting your lip as you wait for him to do something, and when he extends the flowers to you with a soft smile, you sigh in relief, “I hope you like them too.”

  “Y’know I love Tulips,” you bury your nose in the petals, eyes never leaving Robby’s soft gaze, not even for a second, before you bring them down and smile at him brightly, “Thank you, I love them.”

  “Anything for you,” he smiles back, his eyes trailing over your face, falling on your lips before Vian tugs on his sleeves and he is leaning down to pick her up with a groan, holding her up on his forearms against his body, “Ready to go, sweetpea?”

  “Yuppie!” And suddenly she remembers what she is holding, gasping and turning back to you with her wide eyes full of worey, “Mama, fowers in water!” 

  “Of course, give it to me so I can put them in a vase, yeah? Go get your coat, it’s gonna be cold outside,” you take the flowers from her hands when she nods and asks Robby to put her down, and soon you are also wrapping your scarf around your neck while Robby makes sure Vivi is bundled up completely, not a silver of her skin exposed to the cold air. He is not going to risk another sickness.

  “Ready to head out, ladies?” 

  “Yes!” She grabs his hand and they walk outside a few steps before they wait for you to join them, wiggling her small fingers at you when you close and lock the door before lacing your fingers through hers, “Les go!”

  “Let’s go, little bear,” Robby guides you to the sidewalk, walking side by side toward the café, Vian swinging your arms as she jogs between the two of you, trying to reach your long strides, giggling when you and Robby picks her up when she wants to jump from a stair.

  You look at them; Vivi talks about Sully, telling Robby about the new words she has learned, about the night she helped you stir the soup, about the day they were both sick and they sneezed together one time that resulted in more spit and mucus falling from their noses when they laughed.

  Life is unfair, you have learned it the hard way. If it was just and comfortable, you would have Robby the way you used to, Vivi would have her father with her every moment she could. But you tried to give her that, you tried to work it out with Robby, yet none of the talks and counselings were enough to put him in a therapy room until he wanted to.

  You beat yourself up every day for taking this away from Vian, but maybe it was all for the best.

  The café isn’t as crowded as usual, it’s Tuesday and you assume it could be because of this. Luckily for you, your daughter’s favorite table near the window is empty and she makes a run for it, letting go of your hands to crawl on top of the seat.

  “Vivi hungry!”

  “I know, sweetheart,” Robby follows suit, sitting in front of her and hands her the menu. His eyes follow you fondly as you take the spot next to Vian and help her take her scarf and jacket off, “What do you wanna get?”

  “Pancakes! Wit whip cream!” 

  “And some fruit, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at her, squeezing her cheek lovingly when she nods and gives you a toothy smile, “Good girl.”

  “What do you want, honey?”

  Robby asks, reading the menu without even looking at you, like this is normal, like you are still his wife, like this is the domesticity you have experienced many many times. You have, and that is why it hurts much more.

  “Sorry,” he shakes his head, his words finally dawning on him, “It just slipped out. Force of habit, I apologize.”

  “It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” you smile quickly, ducking your head down to appear busy with Vivi, as if he didn’t just make you weak in your knees without even meaning to, “I want… a large tea with vegetable omelet.”

  “Nice choice, I’ll get the same with coffee–”

  “Daddy, waffles?” Vivi drops the menu, resting her chin on her hands as she blinks at him with her doe eyes that Robby can never say no to, and you have to bite back a huge snort when Robby looks at you for help and when he receives none he sighs and nods.

  “Fine, but–”

  “Yay!” She lets out a quick cheer before Robby cuts her off with a stern look.

  “But… you have to have a little from it, okay? We can take the rest home.”

  “Jeeeesus, you’re weak.”

  “Why don’t you come and try?” He whines, reaching to ruffle her hair when she looks at the two of you with curiosity, “You’d fold ten times worse than me if she looks at you like that.”

  “You think I’m not getting tortured every hour I’m home?” You roll your eyes, leaning down to kiss the top of Vivi’s head before you notice the waitress coming your way and you look at Vivi, “Do you want to order for yourself?”

  “I can?” She asks, her eyes lighting up before her gaze fall on the waitress who smiles and greets the three of you, “Hi!”

  “Hi, honey! What can I get you?”

  “Whip cream wit pancakes!” She says, swinging her legs under the table, smiling broadly at the waitress before she gasps, “Orange juice!”

  “Got it, and what ‘bout you two?”

  Robby orders for both of you, nodding as th waitress reads the list to make sure she’s got everything before she walks away quickly.

  “About the party thing happening this week…” you start, handing Vivi her book you brought from the house for her to try and read while you wait for your breakfast before you look back at Robby, “Any hints on what color you gonna wear?”

  “I have only one good tux and it’s navy blue, you know that,” he spreads his arm over the back of the chairs, his eyes are heated as he gazes at you, “It’s nothing fancy, just a get together to show face.”

  “I know, someone else told me this too,” you say without a hint of humor, trying to act nonchalant and confident, but you want to see his reaction. No, you need it.

  “Oh? Who?” He leans forward now, bracing his weight on his forearms on the table, looking at you with raises eyebrows, his eyes holding a deep emotion that he has yet to let it resurface.

  “Park,” you name him, shrugging and keeping your gaze locked with his, “He told me about the event… he asked me to be his date.”

  “Ha!” He huffa out a sarcastic laugh, biting his bottom lip as he nods at your words, tongue picking out to lick the small shapes of his teeth over his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. He is pissed, you can tell that much, and boy, does it bring you joy to watch him lose his composure little by little, “He asked you out. Fucking Park…” he shakes his head and raises his hands when Vian whispers ‘bad word, daddy!’ and glare at him, “sorry, pumpkin.”

  “Yeah, he did,” you nod, like you didn’t just drop a fucking bomb on him, sighing in relief when the waitress comes with your breakfast and drinks, and you take the time to busy yourself with your tea, waiting for the girl to leave the two of you before you continue, “Can you imagine how awkward it was? And Ortho attending asking another attending’s ex wife out.”

  “And what did you say?” He sips on his black coffee, his knuckles white as he grips the handle of the mug tightly, “In case I need to break his nose.”

  “Oh my gosh, you’re so dramatic. Of course I said no,” you chuckle, placing Vivi on your lap as you pull her plate closer, tucking a few napkins in her collar so she doesn’t dirty her clothes, “Okay, baby bear, do you want any help?”

  “Nope!” She grins at the two of you before she frowns and grabs the fork, craning her neck to look at you, “Eat wit my hand?”

  “No, I taught you how to use your fork, remember? I can slice the pancakes for you and you can eat with your fork.” You explain, kissing her forehead when she scrunches her nose at you in concentration before nodding and turning her attention back to her pancakes, “Okay…”

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes, pumpkin?” Robby reaches to push her hair out of her face, smiling softly when she grabs his hand to look at his watch.

  “Why you have a house?” She asks, playing with Robby’s watch slowly while. You stiffen beneath her, hands stopping the movements as you listen to her sigh softly. You knew this conversation would come sooner than later, your girl is smart, she is very very intelligent, so it shouldn’t shock you as much as it does.

  “Because I need a place to live in,” Robby says with a short chuckle, tickling under her chin before he pulls his hand back and watches her grab her fork tightly, thanking you quickly and stuffing her mouth the pancake.

  “Why not live wit us?” She says with her full mouth, and you swallow the lump in your throat, eyes widening as you search Robby’s face for an answer. You are forzen, you shouldn’t be, but you are and you cannot do anything about it. You just hope Robby can pull the weight on behalf of both of you now.

  “Because…” he takes his time, taking a deep breath in before he takes a large sip from his coffee, his eyes falling to his fingers around the mug before he looks at Vian, “Mama and I decided to live in different houses.”

  “But I miss you when you not here,” she whispers softly, pouting a little before she takes another large piece in her mouth, chewing and leaning back against your chest.

  “You stay with me three nights every week, sweetheart,” he sighs sadly, biting his cheek before leaning forward and extending his hands for her to take, bringing her small knuckles to his lips when she places the fork on her plate, smiling when he kisses her small fingers, “I miss you too… every second you’re not with me. 

  “Mama,” she turns around immediately, her pout visibly getting larger by the ticking time, “Daddy come live wit us.”

  “Baby bear–”

  “Pumpkin, look at me,” Robby is quick to jump in and save you from your daughter noticing you falling apart, giving her one of his largest grins, “My work demands more time to stay at another place, okay? We decided to do this so when I’m off I can completely stay with you and Jerry, yeah?”

  “Let’s just focus on our breakfast, huh?” You kiss her head again, smiling and squeezing her a little in your arms before mouthing a quick thank you to Robby, “Besides, I have a surprise for you!”

  “What?”

“What?!”

  They both ask at the same time, and you have to hold back a soft laugh at how similar their expressions are.

  “Well, daddy and I are going out for a work event this week, and I talked to Auntie Samira about it,” you start, looking down at her, caressing her full cheek and leaning down to rub your nose along hers, earning a gleeful giggle, “You gonna have a sleepover with Jack and Mira at their hosue!”

  “Really?!”

  “Yes, baby bear.”

  Your eyes lock with Robby’s, and you notice the soft smile on his face as he looks at his girls. You want cry.

  ****

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse as you try to find the main hall, walking with the skirt of your dress in your hand, purse tightly clutched into another, begging for Robby to be here.

  It was a shitshow to get ready while getting Vian ready and drop her off at Jack’s house. She was crying and so were you while you poured coffee on the dress you had originally decided to wear, until you sat her down on the couch and started Frozen again while handing her a big bowl of ice cream.

  Anything to keep her busy and you free to put your makeup on before she decides to sulk again and give you a hard time.

  You are lucky you find the main hall quickly before the speeches begin, finding the open bar in a sweeping glance across the room. With a sigh, you put your purse on the bar’s counter, searching for Robby among the sea of bodies before the bartender approaches you with a smile.

  “What can I get you?” 

  “Dirty Martini, extra drirty, please,” Robby gives your order, his warm hand moving to your waist as he appears out of nowhere, “And Double Black neat for me.”

  “Comin’ right up,” the bartender winks at you before she moves to the other side to get what she needs for your drinks.

  “Hey,” you turn around with a grateful smile, breath hitching in your throat when you look him up and down, noticing the black shirt under his gorgeous navy blue tuxedo is unbuttoned on top. You meet his eyes bashfully, blood rushing to your cheeks and you have to make sure your gaze is steady enough so he doesn’t notice you checking him out.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” he squeezes your waist, leaning back against the bar counter and pulling you in gently when someone walks past you hurriedly, “How’s Vivi?”

  “You know, a ray of fucking sunshine when I’m in a hurry,” you roll your eyes playfully, looking anywhere but him, “I had to bribe her with ice cream and Frozen until she was calm enough for me to get ready.”

  “Sounds like a tough time, I wish I could help,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair, and you notice how his gaze fall upon your dress — an ankle height length maroon dress that is topped off with the Louboutin heels Robby bought you as your birth gift. “You look gorgeous.”

  “Thanks,” you say breathlessly, blinking at him through your lashes, looking at the band in the corner as they play a song you don’t know before you notice the bartender bringing your drinks for you, “Oh, lovely!”

  “Was she excited to go to Jack’s place? Samira said they wanted to bake together,” Robby says, trying to act nonchalant but his knuckles are moving up and down your back, sipping on his whiskey while his dark eyes sweep over you.

  “Sounds like hell of a plan,” you gulp your drink down, pulling the olive between your teeth while your eyes lock with his, dragging the toothpick down before biting the olive. You watch as he looks at the way your lips stretch around the small round thing — painted red and glittering with lipgloss — before you drop the toothpick and the rest of the olives in your glass, “You’re staring.”

  “Can you blame me?” He tilts his head to the side, his fingers skimming down your side to your hip, letting his pointer and middle fingertips press down on the flesh gently, watching closely as your chest begins to heave with each breath, “I’m contemplating my life choices right now. My ex-wife… even more beautiful than before.”

  “Wow, you’re such a sweet talker,” you huff out a small laugh, patting his chest before you turn around to look at Gloria making her way to the podium, and you are forces to press into Robby’s side as the hall begins to fill in, the space around the bar getting more crowded than before.

  “I’m a man on a mission,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, his free hand resting on your hip as he finishes his drink with the other, closing the distance between your bodies until your back is flushed to his front, “You like the sweet talk, don’t you?”

  “Don’t let it get to your head, I’d lose my mind over a compliment if it comes from Jack too.”

  “You don’t mean that,” he squeezes your flesh, his hot breath fanning over your neck as his hand comes up to play with the strap on your shoulder, leaning down to brush his lipa over you shoulder clavicle, “You’re not an easy woman, beautiful. No man can make you shy like I can.”

  “And how do you know that, hmm?” You let out a ragged sigh, leaning back into his warmth, clutching your glass in your hand while he toys with your sanity.

  “Because I was married to you.”

  “Ah, yes, our very beautiful loving marriage that ended,” you scoff, shaking your head as a round of applause fills the hall, “I wonder why– oh, wait, you weren’t sweet talking back then!”

  “That’s not true,” he lets out a laugh in disbelief, his chest rumbling against your back as his fingers tighten over your hip, “I used to do it all the time!”

  “Well, apparently it wasn’t enough,” you roll your eyes and push away from him, grabbing your purse from the countertop before sighing deeply, “Look, I’m just gonna go. I showed my face, you had your plus one and I need to get back into bed before I pick Vian up from Jack’s place in the morning. So–”

  “What? C’mon, the night’s just started–”

  “No, Robby, this was a bad idea. We can’t just have a night out like nothing’s wrong, we’re divorced for fuck sake!” You hiss the words out before walking away from him, knuckles hurting with how hard you’re clutching your purse.

  “Wait!” 

  You pick up your pace, gathering your dress into your hand before you hear him rush behind you, following you with his long strides.

  “Stop runnin’ away from me!”

  “I’m not running away!” You yell so he can hear your voice through the loud music that starts playing. You don’t even turn around to look at him, marching through the hallways and trying to find your way out before he catches up with you. You need an escape, this was a huge fucking mistake.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, will you please stop?!”

  He grabs you by the elbow, his long fucking legs helping him to reach you quite fast. He pulls on your arm to stop you, groaning when your purse hits him in the stomach but he recovers quickly and pins you to the spot easily.

  “What do you want? I came here for you, I wasn’t even invited! What could you possibly want more from me–”

  “I need you to tell me why you’re leaving!” 

  “Because!” You start, looking him dead in the eye, but the desperation in his gaze makes your words stick in your throat, “Because…”

  “Because what? You’re running away again when things are getting good–”

  “Oh, hell naw! That’s your specialty, Robby,” you try to wiggle your arm out of his grip but he is steadfast on holding you close, “You run away, I do control damage. I can’t let you get close to me again because you’ve already fucked up my life enough. You run away when things get hard, you run away when I got too close! Your own wife!”

  “You were pushing me! You were pushing me so fucking hard and I couldn’t handle it,” he replies, his voice raising a little to match your tone, “You wanted to know everything! I needed space, I needed to think, not to pour my fucking heart out!”

  “You needed space, that’s why you went to bed with Hastings a good few months after our divorce? You needed so much space that I had to find out you were leaving for your fucking sabbatical from Shen?! I was your wife, Robby. Your in sickness and health, until death do us part, remember? I vowed to stay by you, I promised to help and I wanted to help!”

  “You wanted to fix what wasn’t yours to fix!” 

  “I wanted to get close to you, I wanted to love you, Mike…” you finally manage to pull your arm out of his hold, desperately holding your tears back from spilling when you notice the way his eyelids have turned red from crying, “I wish… I wish you'd just let me love you the way you deserve to be loved."

  The silence between you is defeating as you just… stare at each other. You are panting, your lungs begging for more air, and Robby looks at you with so much unspoken sorrow, his face red and and eyes bloodshot. 

  “I’m gonna go,” you whisper, letting the tears fall freely on your cheeks before you turn around with a heavy heart and begin to walk away.

  “Let me drive you home,” he catches up with you after a beat or two, sighing when he walks next to you side by side, “Please…”

  “I can get an Uber–”

  “This is the least I can do for you,” He says, opening the door for you, looking down into your eyes softly, and the plea in his brown irises is enough to make you nod hesitantly, “A token of my appreciation for coming with me tonight.”

  ****

  The ride home is silent. Oddly silent. The bone crushing silence after arguing with a lover. But you weren’t lovers. You were divorced, exes in disguise, best sex partners, co-parents, and somewhere between the lines, you fell as companions.

  Maybe that is why this hurts more than any fight you’ve ever had. Because you were hurt by him more than you can imagine, and you have also hurt him more than anyone can count. You were stags fighting with horns in the evening and lovers by the dawn.

  Giving him another chance sounds so good, but you can’t.

  He drives into the parking space in front of your garage, running a hand down his face as he slows down the car, glancing at you occasionally. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, you can’t bring yourself to see the red vessels in his eyes. 

  “Thank you for driving me home,” you say quietly, opening the door as soon as he cuts the engine, undoing your seatbelt and hopping down from his car, not waiting for him to get out as well — he does it anyway.

  “Of course,” he tries to catch up with you but you are faster, hopping the few steps and getting to your door, keys shaking in your hand as you try to unlock it. “Can we talk–”

  “No, goodnight.” You slip inside before he gets the chance to stop you, slamming the door shut and leaning your back against it, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to regukate your heartbeat.

  Purse is dropped on the counter, necklace unattached and shoes falling next to the door as you move through the house until you reach the kitchen. You press the glaas to the fridge, watching as the water pours with a loud rhythmic sound.

  The first sip takes the edge off, the second cools the burning of your throat and stops the stinging from pushing your sobs down for the entirety of the ride. You drown the rest, and you feel the uneasy sensation of your esophagus stretching.

  What happens next a mix of hesitation, longing, carelessness if anyone can believe. You don’t give it a second thought, you don’t have the time to as you run to the door and downstairs, finding Robby pacing with his hands locked around the back of his neck.

  Before you know it, your lips are crashing into his. 

  He doesn’t pull away, he doesn’t hesitate. He kisses back with a fever that has you clutching his shoulders. He bends you backward a little by the force of his kisses. His mouth doesn’t leave yours, he wants to eat you alive, he wants to devour you and he is doing it very good so far.

  His hand pulls you closer by your waist, the breeze outside making you shiver in his arms while your tongue dances with his in a rythmic tango. 

  “Let’s go inside.”

  You grab his hand and lead him to your open door, and he kicks his shoes off quickly before you are pressing him to the nearest wall, fisting his shirt and pulling him in for another deep kiss. 

  He pushes you inside the house with urgency, leading you towards the couch with his hand on your hip and the other grabbing the back of your neck to keep you tucked against his body.

  You end up with him on the couch and you mounting his lap, heels digging into his knees a little as you straddle him. Your arms are wrapped around his neck while your lips move together in sync, his beard is soft against your skin — he has conditioned it for the night.

  His fingers dig into your asscheeks as you grind down on the bulge in his pants, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders. He groans into your mouth when you roll your hips in a way that puts direct pressure on the head of his cock.

  Your hands find his zipper when you rise on your knees on each side of his thighs, pushing his pants down enough alongside his boxers to bring out his hard cock quickly. Your patience is running very thin.

  “Let me prep you first–”

  “Michael, if you’re not inside me in the next three seconds, God fucking forbid I will enter a manic episode.”

  “Okay, okay,” he chuckles but soon he huffs out a grunt when you wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him with slow gentle movements, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”

  “I can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper against his lips before he helps you push your dress up and holds it there for you as you use your free hand to push your panties to the side and line the angry red tip of his cock with your fluttering hole.

  You sink down slowly, hand flying to his shoulder as you take him inside you inch bt inch, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious stretch. You missed having him like this; undone, captivated and already gone by the feel of you around him. You missed his voice when he would groan your name, when he would shush you gently and fuck you harder.

  He throws his head back, hips rolling up impatiently, and that is enough to make you drop the rest of the way down and that knock the breath out of you. You rest your forehead on his throat before you regain some ounce of your composure and lean back, reaching to unbutton the rest of his shirt, sucking in a sharp breath when the soft flushed skin of his chest and stomach comes into view.

  He melts under your dark gaze when you lick your lips and drag your fingertips across his chest, down his sternum and on his belly. He is hot under your touch, his muscles contract with each caress and stroke, and when you begin to move, he loses his mind. 

  He doesn’t know where to hold onto; your hips, your thighs, your waist, but it is to no use because he is getting dizzy with lust. He reaches to pull the top of your dress down enough for your breasts to pop out. And in a blink of an eye, he latching his mouth onto your nipples, sucking and groaning.

  “I missed these fucking tits,” he growls against your flesh before he looks up into your dazes eyes, “The best fucking tits… I remember when they were fucking hung with milk, God, You tasted so sweet then.”

  “You loved drinking our baby’s milk–”

  “These tits were mine before she got here,” he rolls his tongue over the tightened bud, enjoying the way you moan and begin to rock your hips faster, his cock nudging deeper inside you, “They’re still mine– fuck, baby, you get off on that, don’t ya? You want me to make them full again, hmm?”

  “Oh, fuck fuck fuck!”

  He starts snapping his hips up into yours, pulling you forward until you slump against his chest and cling to him while he fucks you hard, the filthy noises of your joined bodies filling the silence in the room along with your muffled cries and his huffs and groans.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, baby,” his hand goes to your hair, grabbing the strands a little rough before he tugs on them until he exposes your throat to his hungry mouth, sucking on the skin while he thrusts his cock into you in a pace that has your eyes roll to the back of your head.

  When you come, it almost makes your heart stop with how fast it beats against your ribs. Your thighs shake around Robby’s hips and your toes curl in your heels as you bounce up and down his cock even through your orgasm until you are quivering and hiccuping his name, burying your face in his neck and grinding so hard against him it makes his vision go white for a second from pleasure.

  “I got you, shh, you’re okay,” he wraps his arms around you, one of his hands going to your hair to keep you safely tucked in his embrace as he helps you through the aftershocks of your high. “So pretty, baby. You look like a fucking goddess.”

  “Mike…” you whisper, turning your head and resting it against his shoulders, fingers moving up to caress his cheekbones as he gazes down at you, a stupid smile on his face as he holds you close. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Because I love you.” 

  There. Simple. Out in the open. He watches you closely, the way your lips part in surprise — a good kind of surprise because he has known you long enough to know your expressions — and your pupils take over your beautiful irises slowly.

  He brings your hand to his lips, kissing each of your fingers, moving to your knuckles and then your palm before he presses it to his cheek once more.

  You grin at him, straightening your back and cupping his other cheek as well, leaning down to peck him on the lips, gasping when his cock jumps inside you, reminding you of how he hasn’t come yet.

  “You didn’t finish…”

  “The night’s young,” he helps you off him and on your legs slowly, standing up to tower over you, “And I’m a very patient man.”

  “That,” you whisper, turning around when he guides you, kissing your bare shoulder as he reaches for the zipper of your dress, “Is very true.”

  “Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?” He keeps his lips locked on your neck and shoulder, his knuckles caressing your back as he lowers the zipper.

  “I don’t mind hearing you say it again,” you let the dress pool around your ankles, gasping when he leans over to kiss your neck, then each of your shoulders before he moves down a little, kissing the line of your spine until he reached your ass, letting his teeth graze the flesh before he helps you out of your heels one by one. 

  “You look so fucking beautiful,” he whispers against your ear, and you turn around to look at him, naked as the day you were born before you reach to unbutton his shirt slowly, running your hand over his pecs and down to his soft pudgy stomach. 

  You kiss his chest slowly, fingers caressing his shoulders as you finally drop the shirt on the ground, and it gives him enough time to push his pants and boxers down and get rid of his shoes as well.

  You take his hand when he is just as bare as you are, leading him upstairs to your room before your bodies begin to move together.

  He is all consuming with the way he moves inside you; it’s not rushed, but it is deep and meaningful. You both cling to each other, lips slotted together. Your bodies have missed each other, the familiarity, the way you fit like a piece of puzzle.

  Suddenly, he stops, tears streaming down his face as he deops his forehead on yours, his cock nestled deep inside you as he cries softly, his tears making your eyes sting too.

  “I’m sorry for ruining our marriage,” he confesses softly, his hand cupping your cheek, “I’m sorry for not fighing harder, I’m sorry for not getting better, for letting you both go. I’m so fucking sorry–”

  “I’m sorry too,” you kiss his cheek, wiping each tear with a small peck, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you keep him pressed to your body, “For not giving you space when you needed it, for not trying harder–”

  “Shhh,” he nudges his nose to yours gently, “I’m just glad I can touch… I can have you again.”

  ****

  You do not know why your heart starts beating faster at the sight of the empty spot on the bed. He is supposed to be next to you, cuddling you, holding you close and snore loudly in your ear but he is not. And that makes you nervous to the point your heart is giving out by how rapid it is pumping blood.

  He must have left, you think to yourself as you slowly peel the duvet off your body, bare legs swinging over the edge of the bed, sitting with a heavy sigh. Of course you didn’t have any expectations, it could have been just sex in his eyes. Maybe he said those words because he was feeling gooey and relaxed, but why would he say those things if he didn’t mean it?

  You fail to look at the clock or your phone or his phone in your charger before you grab a t-shirt from your drawer — his t-shirt that you’ve stolen from him years ago — and walk downstairs to see if any of his clothes are left, only to be met with them neatly folded on one of the loveseats.

  Your body relaxes a little until you hear a loud giggle from the kitchen. With a growing smile on your face, you turn around and find Robby and Vian bent over the counter as he helps her stir some type of batter.

  “Shh, don’t wake Mama up.”

  “I’m already up–”

  “AAAAAAAAA!”

  “What is wrong with you–”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you laugh loudly, throwing your head back as the two of them glare at you with their identical eyes, “I didn’t think anyone was here, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

  “S’okay!” Vivi is quick to replace the glare with a grin of her own before she — with Robby’s help — slides down the counter and runs to you, crashing into your legs with a force that nearly knocks you on your back, but you’re pretty immune to her fierce love and grab her by her waist to pick her up. “I miss you Mama!”

  “Miss you too, baby bear!” You hold her close tightly, kissing her cheek, her nose, the little mole on her earlobe, her brown hair before tucking her head under your chin and you finally notice Robby standing there with his arms crossed and a dopey smile on his face.

  “You ruined our surprise,” he says quietly before he makes his way to the two of you, leaning down to peck your lips softly before he murmurs, “You didn’t brush your teeth.”

  “I know, sorry… I thought you left,” you confess, pouting a little at the thought before Vivi starts tugging at your shirt, “Yes, baby bear?”

  “Daddy got me from Unce Jack!”

  “Yeah? I’m so glad he did, now I can start my day with my favorite people.” She giggles when you tickle under her chin and settles back againstnyour shoulder, letting you go back to your conversation with her father.

  “I’m not gonna leave like that again, sweetheart,” he leans back down to rest his forehead on yours, wrapping his arms around the two of you, engulfing you both in a giant warm hug, “I’m sorry I scared you, I swear I just went to pick her up so she can spend the day with us.”

  “I know, bear,” your arms tighten around Vivi who just blinks at the two of you, before her eyes start gleaming with mischief.

  “Now kiss!” She giggles, turning around in your arms until she can wrap both of her arms around your necks and pull you closer.

  Robby doesn’t let you duel on it much longer, he closes the distance plants a chaste kiss on your lips, then another when Vian doesn’t let the two of you get further apart.

  You kiss him back shyly, chuckling into his mouth when you feel your daughter starts playing with your hair, watching you with awe in her gaze.

  “I have morning breath…”

  “I’ll kiss you with any breath.”

  ****

  To say you are divorced is a bit of a lie. Legally, yes, you’re no longer Mrs. Robinavitch, but with the way you’re living, you are practically Robby’s wife through and through.

  There isn’t a thing called custody of Vian between you. Your days blended with his slowly; he’d spend your days at your place while you went to his place when he would have Vian. It was the better choice to ease him back into living at your place without confusing your daughter much more than she already is.

  You cook together, dance together when Robby’s knees feel good enough, take your daughter to different children classes, have sex after a certain mom flirts too much with Robby or when a dad thinks he has a shot. You kiss and hold each other like you used to, but this time, Robby is there, with you, in the present and without letting the ghosts of his past haunt him.

  But sometimes… sometimes it gets too much. 

  “Hey, I just got home, me and Vivi are making Ghorme Sabzi,” you answer his call in a heartbeat, helping Vian to wash the rice with her little hands. “It’ll be ready when you get home–”

  “DADDY! Vivi cooking!”

  “Hey girls!” He says with a smal chuckle, and you notice the restrain in his voice immediately, “Wow, good job, pumpkin! You help mama while I’m busy, yeah?”

  “Yup yup!” She watches with wide eyes as you help her rinse the dirty water, “Mama cook green food!”

  “I know, and we love it, don’t we?” He sighs when he hears her mindlessly talking to herself, “Honey, you there?”

  “Yes, Mikey, I’m here,” you take the call off the speaker and put your phone between your ear and shoulder, “What’s going on?”

  “I- look, I’m so sorry but, I… I’m gonna be late, I need an emergency therapy session–”

  “Oh, baby…” you lower Vivi on the ground when she tells you she wants to read her book, your chest hurting by the way he sounds on the other end of the line, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, love, I just… I can’t come home like this, I’m a… I’m a fucking mess and I need to just…”

  “Michael, it’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling sadly, “We’ll be here for you when you come home. I’m glad you called me, I’m gonna wait for you till you come home, okay? I love you, please take care of yourself, bear.”

  “I love you too, honey–”

  “Daddy!” Vivi runs to you with Teddy in her hand, making grabby gestures with her fingers until you pass the phone to her, “I lobe you, Daddy!”

  “I love you too,” you don’t hear it, but there is a small sniffle at his end, “I love you so much. Help mama, okay? Save me some Tahdig, don’t eat it all!”

  “Okay,” she giggles, “Bye!”

  ****

  Robby sighs softly as he unlocks the door and kicks off his shoes, dropping his keys in the bowl next to yours as he slowly peels the day off him. Backpack next to the couch, jacket hanging off one shoulder while he walks upstairs with heavy quiet steps, as if he is chained anf they ate pulling his weight down.

  He opens Vivi’s door first, looking at her from the doorframe, tears filling his eyes as he watches her chest move up and down rhythmically. She is alive. She is fine. She is safe. He repeats these sentences to himself over and over, until he can breathe a little easier.

  She is okay, and that’s enough for him to relax even if it is for a second.

  He leaves the door slightly ajar before he walks to your room, walking inside without making a sound, finding you sleeping under the duvet and burying your face in his pillow. With a small smile, he starts to strip. The jacket comes first, then the scrub top and undershirt, followed by his belt and cargo pants.

  “Hey…” he hears you and turns around to look at your sleepy smily face, “How are you?”

  “Hey…” he doesn’t answer your question, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back halfway toward you before he turns around and reaches to push your hair out of your face, “Sorry I woke you up.”

  “Don’t w’rry about it,” you whisper, grabbing his hand softly before kissing his palm, “Do you wanna talk about today?”

  “No, not right now,” he shakes his head, crawling under the duvet, “can you please…”

  “C’mere,” you open your arms and grin when he lies on top of you, head buried in your neck as you hold him close, kissing the top of his head and enjoying how his weight is pinning you down, “I love you, Mike.”

  “Love you more, honey.” He whispers against your skin, taking in a deep breath before he starts talking, “Today… I had a kid, around Vian’s age, she… she had drowned in the pool trying to grab her toy. She… she didn’t make it and I couldn’t do anything to prevent that. And I thought what if one day, I’m too careless with Vivi and she ends up like her. What if I can’t save my own child–”

  “Bear, listen to me,” you kiss his head, tightening your arms around his shoulders, resting your cheek on his forehead, “You are probably the best doctor I’ve ever seen, okay? If anything happens to her, you’ll be the best person to save her. But, baby, she is safe, and she is sleeping soundly in her room. I’m not gonna say nothing can happen, because she is a child, but if something happens to her, you will take care of her, we will take care of her.”

  “I fear I’ll fail her,” he lets the tears fall finally, “One way or another. I fear I can’t be there for her when she needs me the most, I… I fear she’ll realize I’m too damaged and can’t take care of her.”

  “Baby, Vivi loves you so much she will believe if you tell her you’ve hung the moon,” you let him cry softly against your neck, wrapping your leg around his hips to keep him tucked against your body, “She’s been so much happier since we started living together. She looks for you in every room she walks inside. You’re her Daddy, and she trusts you.”

  “I don’t wanna fail her like I’ve failed you.”

  “We failed each other, and we’re working together to fix it. Be here for her, love her like you always do. You’re doing everything right, bear. We’re okay, she loves you, I love you.”

  “I love you too, both of you, so fucking much.” He clings to you harder, and you let him, holding him equally tight until he is snoring softly against your neck, his soft exhales easing you back to sleep quickly.

  ****

  “Mama…” Vivi tugs on your fingers, her whisper waking you up gently, “Mama, Vivi huggies?”

  “Hey, baby, why are you up?” You hold your hand for her to take and pull her up with a little struggle, given the big guys sleeping on your chest.

  You notice the soft rays of sunshine hitting your curtains, sighing softly you kiss Robby’s head and help Vian crawl next to you under the covers, and the small movement stirs Robby awake.

  “Morning,” he kisses your shoulder before he finds Vivi mimicking his pose, resting her head on your chest, her small hanf moving to pat his cheek lovingly, making you both chuckle, “Hey, pumpkin. What are you doin’ here?”

  “Morning huggies,” she frowns a little, acting like his question is so silly she just has to make a face, “Mama?”

  “Yes, little bear,” you kiss her head too, one of your hands moving up and down her small back, “Do you wanna sleep again?”

  “Mhm,” she nods, her eyelids already falling shut, her hand still resting on Robby’s cheek, and you notice how he is softly crying, his hand coming up to cover yours against Vivi’s back.

  “She is everything.” He whispers, his thumb caressing your wrist gently, “You are everything.”

The first HR meeting came one week after you and Robby stopped hiding. 

There was no big announcement, just the two of you walking into the Pitt together, brushing your shoulders, looking like two people who’d woken up in the same bed. By the shift’s end, when you left holding hands, walking toward your car, the gossip had already caught fire.

You’d both known the risks: the sideways comments, the bureaucratic headaches. But after six months of secrecy, after deciding to move in together, sneaking around like teenagers felt ridiculous.

It all went south quickly, because the next morning, the murmurs started. Not loud or outright hostile right away, just sharp enough to disrupt the rhythm of the ED. 

You were in bay 6, supervising the placement of a central line on a septic patient. The resident was doing well, she had steady hands, but every time you leaned in to give some direction, you caught the way the other residents glanced over. One of them muttering to another, low enough that it was meant to be private but wasn’t: “Of course she gets the plum procedures. Sleeping with the chief attending will do that.” Your shoulders stiffened for half a second, but you didn’t react. You were ready to face some shady comments, and you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t let it affect you. But damn it, it was hard not letting it get to you.

Later, in the break room during a rare five-minute lull, it got more direct. You were refilling your water bottle when two nurses walked in, and you managed to catch a little of their conversation before they abruptly stopped once they noticed you.

“…just think it’s unfair for the rest of the residents. He’s the chief attending. And now his little girlfriend gets all the high-acuity patients? Come on. That’s favoritism, plain and simple.”

It keeps happening throughout the day, getting worse when an intern questioned you for having two trauma 1 cases the same morning. And suddenly, the interns you were supposed to be teaching, the ones who were meant to learn from you, were doubting every single one of your orders, as if you didn’t know what you were talking about, as if you were only there because you’d slept with Robby.

"Just saying. People are talking. You get all the complex cases lately. Like that GSW yesterday? I could've handled that, but it went straight to you." One of them said.

You kept your voice professional. "The GSW went to me because I was the chief resident on shift. Now focus, you have the chance to learn, but if you want to miss it then I'll do the procedure myself."

He muttered something under his breath as he finished, but the seed was already planted in the minds of all the residents, especially those who didn’t really know Robby, who didn’t understand he would never compromise anyone’s education, no matter who he was in love with.

"She's chief resident, yeah, but come on. Sleeping with the attending? No wonder her evals are glowing. I bet her reports are padded."

"Look at her latest report. Perfect scores again. Meanwhile, the other us are struggling to get by. If that's not favoritism, I don't know what is. And assigning her the lead on that multi-trauma? Please. Someone should say something."

Dana overheard the interns talking, and slammed her tablet down. "Ladies, if you've got a problem, take it to admin. Otherwise, shut it and get back to work. We've got patients dying while you're busy gossiping."

You felt the eyes on you all afternoon, and suddenly, the place that, up until today, had felt like a second home, where you’d always moved like a fish in water, now felt like you were being slowly kicked out.

Thankfully, the people you were closest to: Mel, Santos, Whitaker, Dana, never stopped looking at you or treating you the same. They knew you, and they knew Robby. They had your back, and more importantly, they made you feel normal when everyone else made you feel like an oddity.

“You have nothing to worry about,” Mel was explaining while you both worked through charts on the computers. “The regulation isn’t specific enough when it comes to cases of fraternization between a chief attending and a chief resident. You can allege—”

“What’s up, Melancholia?” Trinity said as she approached the two of you. “Hey, Chief Slutty.” Chief Slutty, the affectionate nickname Santos had given you. “Jesus, I can’t believe people are still going on about this shit. Why do they care so much who you’re sleeping with? Every time I close my eyes I picture you and Robby going at it, and I want to rip my eyes out.”

“Some of us would like to rip our ears off when it’s three in the morning and we can’t sleep because some people are… very enthusiastic,” Whitaker added as he passed by, pushing a patient in a wheelchair. Everybody knew about Santos and Garcia, except, of course, nobody cared, since Garcia wasn’t a chief attending. Lucky them.

“Oh, deal with it, Huckleberry. You’re not even paying rent,” Santos shoot back before looking at you. “I was meaning to ask, any chance you can get your boyfriend to write me a killer recommendation later?”

“Believe me, I know what it’s like, people thinking you got here because of who you’re related to,” Victoria chirped as she stepped out of Trauma 2, pulling off her latex gloves and tossing them in the bin. “Don’t listen to them. Only you know how hard you worked for this.”

You offered her a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Your friends did their best efforts in cheering you up, and even though Robby tried to comfort you once you were back home, you still felt uneasy.

“They’re talking,” you said quietly. “A lot. Favoritism. Unfair. Wrong. That I’m getting special treatment because we’re…”

He didn’t look up from his phone, only exhaled through his nose. “I know.”

You crossed your arms. “Doesn’t bother you?”

“It bothers me that it bothers you.” He leaned on the couch, readjusting his glasses, finally putting down his phone to look at you. “But I’ve been here long enough to know how this place works. People talk. Always have. When I got chief, half the attendings said I wasn’t ready for it. When I started pushing for better trauma protocols, they said I was power-tripping. Now it’s this.” He shrugged one shoulder. “They’ll get bored. Or they’ll get used to it. Either way, I’m not changing how I run my department because of what they say.”

You nodded slowly. “And me? They think I’m riding your coattails.”

“Well, it’s not my fault I’m extremely popular, and a damn good catch,” he said with a smirk, nudging you with his foot.

“Robby,” you started.

“Listen to me, you’re one of the best residents I’ve ever worked with. You were before we started this. You still are. Anyone who can’t see that is either blind or jealous. And if they want to question your competence because of who you’re sleeping with, that’s their problem. Not yours.”

You felt the heat flooding your face, just as much as when he’d first complimented you on our first day at work. “You really don’t care?”

“I care that it’s making your day harder.” His hand found yours, squeezing it briefly before letting go. “But I’m not sorry. I’m not going to pretend we’re not together just to make them comfortable. We’re adults. We’re professionals. We follow the rules, no sex in the hospital, no conflicts on shared cases if it comes to that. Beyond that? They can gossip all they want. Besides, it’ll be a nice change of scenery to have Gloria bugging me about something other than patient satisfaction scores,” he chuckled to himself. “Being nagged for having amazing sex with my amazing girlfriend doesn’t sound so bad.”

His bad attempt of being funny made you roll your eyes. “Stop. It’s not funny.” You playfully swatted at him. “Now I’m going to feel like every time you fuck me, it’s not because of me, but just to indirectly piss off Gloria.”

“Can’t a man do his two favorite things at the same time?” he said with a half smile right before you threw a pillow at his face.

Things got even worse by Wednesday, when you were running a chest tube on a pneumothorax patient. Robby was there, supervising, watching your technique with approval. The intern assisting you, a new guy named Mark, kept glancing between you and Robby like he was waiting for something to happen.

The tube was placed, the patient was stable, and you were securing it when Mark finally opened his mouth.

"Guess that's another perfect procedure for the chief resident," he said, just loud enough for the three of you. "Must be nice having the chief personally oversee everything. Some of us have to actually earn our stripes without a boyfriend doing us favors."

The words landed like a slap. Robby turned slowly. "Excuse me?" His voice was low, the kind that made people lean in to hear it.

Mark flushed, and he doubled down. "I just said—"

"I heard what you said." Robby stepped forward, not raising his voice, no matter how pissed he was. "You want to repeat it? Louder? So everyone can hear how little respect you have for your chief resident and the work she does?"

Mark opened his mouth, but closed it right away. Robby didn’t give him time to recover. "You're new, but you’ve been here long enough to know how this department works, Mark. You want to question a procedure? Fine. You want to question my judgment on case assignments? Go ahead. But the second you imply that she didn't earn her spot because of who she's sleeping with, you're not just talking shit about her. You're talking shit about me, about this program, and about every patient who walks through those doors expecting competent care."

Mark's face was beet red now. "I didn't mean—"

"You meant exactly what you said." Robby stepped closer. "You think favoritism got her here? Look at her numbers. Look at her complication rates. Look at the patient satisfaction scores that are higher than yours and mine combined. She's chief resident because she's the best doctor in this class. Not because I enjoy sleeping with her."

The bluntness hit you like a shockwave. Mark flinched, and you could see the heat crawling up his neck. Robby kept going. "If you can't handle the fact that two consenting adults are in a relationship, that's your problem. Not hers. Not mine. But if you ever, ever, question her competence again in my hearing, I will personally make sure you spend the rest of your rotation doing nothing but rectal exams and bed baths. And I will make sure every attending in this hospital knows exactly why."

Mark stared at the floor, swallowing hard. "I… I'm sorry."

Robby didn’t soften. "Apologize to her. Not me."

Mark finally looked at you. He looked completely miserable, like a little kid who just got scolded. "I'm sorry, Dr. That was out of line."

You nodded once. "Accepted. Go help with the MVC patients. We don't have time for this."

During the rest of the shift, you heard the echoes of Robby’s words filtering through the department:

“Did you hear what he said to Mark? Called him out right there.”

“‘I will personally make sure you spend the rest of your rotation doing rectal exams.’ Jesus.”

“He basically told the whole room he’s sleeping with her and doesn’t give a shit who knows.”

By mid-afternoon, the story has spread to every corner: trauma, the hallway beds, even the pharmacy techs are repeating variations of it. Some people sound impressed. Some sound scandalized. But apparently, everyone had an opinion. on your sex and romantic life. The ED wasn’t that different from highschool.

As the shift wound down slowly, the board got cleared, and the last critical patient got transferred to the ICU. Everyone was tired, coats already half-on, bags slung over shoulders.

But when the last update was done, Robby didn’t dismiss the group. He stayed standing, “I’ve got something to say,” he started. “And I’m only saying it once, so listen up. For the last few days, there’s been a lot of talk in this department. About me. About your chief resident. About whether she’s earned the position she’s in, the cases she runs,and the evaluations she gets. Let me be crystal clear: the answer is yes. She has. Every single time. I’ve been running the ED here for many years. I’ve watched every one of you come through these doors, some of you as interns, some as attendings. I know what competence looks like. I know what excellence looks like. And I know favoritism when I see it, because I’ve fought against it my entire career.”

He paused for a second.

“What I do not do is hand out special treatment because I’m sleeping with someone. If anything, I’ve been harder on her to make sure no one could ever question it. And still, people decided to run their mouths. To imply that her work, her outcomes, her patient care, are somehow tainted because of who she’s in a relationship with.”

A few people shifted uncomfortably. Mark was in the back, staring at the floor like he wanted it to swallow him. 

“So let me make this easy for everyone. She is the chief resident because she’s the best doctor in her class. Her numbers are the best. Her patients do better. Her families remember her name. If you have a problem with that, take it up with the data. Take it up with me. But do not question her competence again. Not in my hearing. Not in this department. We’re all tired. We’re all burned out. We’ve all seen shit in these halls that would break most people. The last thing we need is to start tearing each other down over personal lives that don’t affect patient care. If you’ve got a real concern about bias, about fairness, about anything that touches a patient, bring it to me. Bring it to Gloria, though I doubt you’d want to. Bring evidence. But if you’re just looking for something to whisper about because you’re jealous, insecure, or bored? Keep it to yourself. Or find a new place to work.”

He looked around one last time, landing his eyes on you for half a second, long enough for you to see the quiet pride there, the protectiveness, before he looked away again.

“That’s it. We’re done here.”

Robby knew he had let his emotions win in that moment. He shouldn’t have said the things he said, or at least not in the way he said them. His speech was the match that struck the fire. Because on the morning of Tuesday, you were called to the HR office.

You sat, smoothing your scrubs unconsciously, folding your hands in your lap to steady the faint tremor. 

"For the record, this meeting is being recorded for documentation purposes. Date: January 10, 2026. Time: 10:22 a.m. Present: Sarah Smith, HR Director, Finn Rivera, HR Assistant.” You shivered when she said your name next. “Chief Resident in Emergency Medicine at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center."

Sarah adjusted her glasses, opening a folder. "Dr., we're conducting an investigation due to a formal anonymous complaint regarding potential favoritism and conflicts of interest in the Emergency Department. The allegations involve your personal relationship with Dr. Robinavitch and its possible impact on departmental fairness, evaluations, and assignments. We'll go through a series of questions to gather your perspective. Please answer as fully and honestly as you can. Do you have any questions before we begin?"

You shook your head, and Finn started with the basics, looking at the tablet in his hand. "To confirm, can you describe the nature and timeline of your relationship with Dr. Robinavitch?"

You took a measured breath. "We're in a romantic relationship. It began about six months ago. We started as colleagues, and it developed naturally from there, outside of the hospital. We've always kept it professional at work."

Sarah nodded, jotting a note. "And how would you characterize the start of the relationship? Was it mutual and consensual from the outset?"

"Absolutely," you said it firmly. "It was entirely consensual. We were both single adults, and no power dynamics were abused. We talked about the potential complications early on, given our roles, and decided to proceed carefully. There was no pressure from either side."

Sarah's pen scratched across her pad. " Have there been any instances where you felt the relationship was not fully consensual or where professional boundaries were crossed?"

"No," you replied immediately. "Never. We've been very intentional about consent and boundaries. If anything, we've over-communicated to make sure neither of us feels pressured."

Sarah's tone shifted slightly, more probing. "Regarding the consensual nature, given the inherent power imbalance between an attending and a resident, have you ever felt that Dr. Robinavitch used his position to influence the relationship, even subtly? For example, implying better opportunities or evaluations in exchange for personal involvement?"

You met her gaze with security, leaving no room for argument.  "No. Never. It was consensual because we’ve always treated each other as equals outside work. No quid pro quo, no manipulation."

Finn scrolled on his tablet. "Moving to the professional side, the complaint alleges that since the relationship began, you've received preferential treatment, such as being assigned more high-profile cases, higher performance evaluations, and perhaps leniency in feedback. How do you respond to these claims?"

You leaned forward slightly. You’d worked your ass off to get where you stood now, and you’d be damned if you let anyone underestimate you, thinking you’d earned your place by sleeping with someone instead of the endless nights of study, the brutal shifts, and the hard dedication it actually took. "I respond by saying they're not accurate. My role as chief resident already involves leading on high-acuity cases, that's part of the position, assigned by the program director based on seniority and performance. I've handled tough traumas because I'm available and capable, not because of favoritism. My evaluations have been strong since my intern year, from multiple attendings, not just Dr. Robinavitch. If you compare my pre-relationship evals to now, there's consistency. In fact, he's given me more pointed feedback recently."

Sarah tilted her head. "Can you provide a specific example of a case where you believe the assignment was merit-based rather than influenced by your relationship?"

"Sure," you said. "Take the multi-car pileup two weeks ago. I was the senior resident on shift, so I took the lead on the most critical patient, a pedestrian with abdominal evisceration. Dr. Robinavitch supervised, but he didn't hand-pick me, the triage nurse assigned me based on protocol. We stabilized the patient and got them to the OR. My outcomes on that case were with minimal complications. If it were favoritism, why would he push me harder in debriefs? He doesn't let me slide, he expects more because he knows I can deliver."

The interview stretched on for nearly forty minutes more, asking you of examples of critical feedback from Robby, and instances of perceived shielding. You provided dates, patient outcomes, and even suggested they pull resident feedback surveys where you'd been rated highly by peers.

An hour later, they called Robby in. 

"Dr. Robinavitch, thank you for coming on short notice. I'm Sarah Smith, HR Director. This is my assistant, Finn Rivera. Please, take a seat."

Robby took the offered seat across from them, keeping his back straight, resting his hands loosely on the table. He wasn't here to fidget or defend himself or the relationship, he was here to state facts.

"For the record," Sarah began, her voice sounding practiced, "this meeting is being recorded for documentation purposes. Date: January 10, 2026. Time: 11:20 a.m. Present: Sarah Smith, HR Director, Finn Rivera, HR Assistant, and Dr. Michael Robinavitch, Senior Emergency Attending and Chief Attending Physician at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center."

Robby nodded once. "Understood."

Sarah adjusted her glasses, glancing at the thin folder in front of her. "Dr. Robinavitch, we're here today to discuss a formal anonymous complaint we've received regarding potential favoritism and conflicts of interest within the Emergency Department. The allegations center on your personal relationship with the current chief resident, and how it may be influencing departmental operations, including case assignments, performance evaluations, and overall fairness to other residents and staff."

Robby's expression didn't change. He'd expected this exact script. "There are no explicit rules in this hospital regarding fraternalization between chief attending and chief resident. The complains should be marked as unsubstantiated."

Sarah nodded, her tone neutral. "We're aware of that. However, following your public comments during last night's sign-out, where you addressed the department directly, additional concerns have been raised. Multiple staff members have contacted us expressing discomfort with what they perceive as a power imbalance. Some feel it creates a hostile work environment, where raising legitimate issues could lead to retaliation, based on your statements. Our role in HR is to conduct a thorough, impartial investigation to ensure compliance with hospital policies and to protect all employees."

“All of this is bullshit. This place would have more stars in Google than Disneyland if instead of concerning with what competent workers do in their personal lives,” Robby said. “They’d concern with the fact that people have to wait twelve hours just to be seen by a doctor, or with the current shortage of nur—”

“Dr. Robinavitch, I understand your frustration, but we’re here to address the nature of your relationship with your chief resident,” Sarah said, trying to calm Robby down before he launched into a full-on rant about every fucking thing that was wrong with the hospital. “If you have any other concerns, you can direct them to Dr. Underwood.”

Robby let out a laugh that lacked any real amusement. “Oh, that’d be just fantastic. Brilliant idea.”

Finn tapped his tablet, pulling up notes. "Dr. Robinavitch, could you please confirm the nature and timeline of your relationship with the Dr.?"

Robby met his eyes steadily. "We're in a romantic relationship. It started approximately six months ago. We kept it private initially, but it's become public knowledge in the last few days."

Sarah made a quick note on her pad. "And prior to this relationship, what was your professional dynamic with her?"

"She's been a resident in the program for four years. I supervised her as part of the attending rotation, same as every other resident. She was appointed chief resident last year based on her performance evaluations from the entire faculty, not just me. That decision was made before our relationship began."

"The core of the complaint alleges that your partner has received preferential treatment since the relationship began. Examples include being assigned disproportionately high-acuity cases, receiving inflated performance evaluations, and being shielded from constructive criticism that other residents face. How do you respond to these claims?"

Robby exhaled slowly, keeping his voice level. "They're unfounded. Let's break it down. First, as chief resident, she's expected to lead on high-acuity traumas, that's the role. Assignments are based on resident availability and skill level. Her complication rates are the lowest in her class, and her patient throughput is the highest. I assign her tough cases because I trust her not to screw them up, which protects patients. If other residents feel they're not getting enough exposure, they can request more rotations. No one's come to me with that until this anonymous complaint."

Finn scrolled on his tablet. "We've pulled some data on case distributions over the last six months. She  has handled 28% more level-one traumas than the average resident. Does that not suggest bias?"

"No," Robby countered. "It suggests she's reliable. Check the outcomes, her mortality rates on those cases are 15% below the department average. He patient satisfaction scores are 92% higher than the rest of residents. That's not bias, that's excellence. If I were playing favorites, I'd be assigning her the easy stuff to pad her stats. Instead, she's getting the grind because she can handle it."

Sarah tilted her head slightly. "And the evaluations? The complaint notes that your written assessments of her performance are consistently outstanding, with minimal areas for improvement noted."

"Pull the full set," Robby said. "Compare my evals of her to those from other attendings, even the surgical consultants she rotates with. They're aligned. Now compare my evals of her from before we started dating to after, there’s no change in tone or scoring. If anything, I've documented more constructive feedback post-relationship to ensure transparency. For example, in October, after a multi-vehicle crash, I noted in her report that she could improve on delegating ancillary tasks during codes to free up her focus on critical interventions. That's not 'inflated', that's fair."

"Have there been instances where you've intervened in criticism directed at her from other staff?"

"Only if it's unfounded or unprofessional," Robby replied. "Like yesterday, when a resident made a snide comment implying her skills were due to who she sleeps with rather than her merit. That's not criticism, that's sexism. I addressed it publicly last night because the gossip was spreading and affecting morale. If someone has legitimate feedback on her performance, they can bring it to me. But baseless attacks? No. That undermines the team."

Sarah's expression remained neutral, but she leaned forward. "Regarding your speech at sign-out, several witnesses described it as confrontational. You mentioned disciplinary actions, like reassigning duties, for anyone questioning her competence. Some staff feel this creates a chilling effect, where they might fear retaliation for raising concerns."

Robby tightened his jaw. "I said consequences for unfounded gossip that questions her competence based on our relationship, not for legitimate concerns. But what I've seen is whispering in hallways, second-guessing her calls in front of patients, implying she's 'sleeping her way' to success. That's not a 'concern', that's sexist bullshit. And yes, I'll shut it down hard. A hostile environment? That's what the gossip creates, for her, for me, for anyone trying to do their job without personal lives being dissected."

Finn cleared his throat. "Do you believe your relationship could compromise your objectivity in supervising her or the department as a whole?"

"I've asked myself that," Robby admitted. "Multiple times. And the answer is no. We keep boundaries. If a conflict arises, like if she were up for a promotion I directly influence, I'd recuse myself. She's in her final year, so she'll be out of residency soon anyway."

Finally, Sarah leaned back. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Robinavitch. We'll review all materials, including the data you've referenced, and follow up with recommendations. In the interim, please continue your duties as usual, but remain mindful of how perceptions can impact the work environment."

Now, Robby has his hands tight on the wheel, his knuckles going white, he’s that same controlled tension you’d seen in the ED many times before when a patient was crashing and he was the only one who could keep it together. You keep glancing at him, he was staring straight ahead, like he’s still seeing whatever went down in the HR office. 

You can’t stand the silence anymore. “Robby.” He doesn’t answer right away. Just exhales through his nose. “Talk to me,” you say, softer. “Please.”

He flicks the turn signal, and takes the exit toward home, but still doesn’t speak.

You reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. “You’ve been silent since you came back. What happened up there? What did she say to you?”

“Same they said to you, probably. I told them it’s bullshit. You’re the best resident we’ve got. Told them your numbers speak for themselves, patient satisfaction, outcomes, complication rates. Told them to pull every report I’ve written on you, before and after we started. There’s no difference. I’ve been harder on you, if anything, to avoid exactly this.”

“You’re pissed,” you say quietly. It’s clear in his tone, even if he tries to soften it for you.

“Yeah.” The word comes out rough. “I’m fucking pissed.”

You nod, letting that sit. “At the hospital? At the person who complained? At me?”

He shoots you a look, almost startled. “Not at you. Never at you.”

“Then talk to me. I can take it.”

He pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. The sudden silence is deafening, but neither of you moves to get out. Robby scrubs a hand over his face, his beard rasping against his palm. “I’ve spent years building this place. Years of fighting for better protocols, better staffing, better outcomes. I’ve taken every hit, budget cuts, admin bullshit, burnout, families screaming in my face. I’ve never once compromised patient care.”

You stay quiet, letting him go. “And now? Now someone’s trying to turn what we have into a fucking scandal. Like you didn’t earn every case you’ve run. Like your evals are fake. Like I’d risk the department, the patients, everything, just to hand you favors.” He laughs once, humorless. “I’ve had attendings question my decisions before. Residents push back. Families threatening me with lawsuits. But this? This feels… personal. Dirty. Like they’re trying to drag you down to make themselves feel better.”

You reach for his hand on the gear shift, lacing your fingers through his. His grip is tight, almost too tight, but he doesn’t pull away. “I hate that they’re making you doubt yourself,” you say softly. “Even a little.”

“I don’t doubt myself.” He turns to look at you. “I doubt them. I doubt the system that lets one anonymous asshole throw mud and force me to defend something that’s none of their goddamn business.” He exhales, and you can see how some of the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. "How'd yours go?"

"Long. They asked about everything, the timeline, how it started, if it was consensual from the beginning. Like they were checking for some hidden coercion or something."

Robby narrowed his eyes. "Consensual? They went there?"

"Yeah. I told them it was mutual, that I made the first move outside work. No pressure, no imbalance exploited. But it felt… invasive. Like they were dissecting us." Your voice cracks on the last words, and suddenly the frustration boils over with unexpected tears that prick in your eyes. You blink them back, but they come anyway, spilling over as you drop your head into your hands.

"Hey." Robby's pulling you into his chest in a second. His arms are solid, cupping the back of your head with one hand. "Hey, talk to me."

You shake your head against his shirt, but the words tumble out anyway. "I'm just… so frustrated. So fucking angry. I worked my ass off for this. Years of med school debt, rotations where I barely slept, and proving myself every single shift. I earned chief resident. I earned those cases, those evals. And now? Now it's all being discredited because we're together? Like none of it matters. It's bullshit. It hurts."

The sobs come harder now, muffled against him. He holds you tighter, rocking slightly, stroking slow circles on your back. "I know. I know. Fuck them, you know you earned this. The people who matter in the ED, Dana, Yolanda, Cassie, we all know it."

You pull back just enough to look at him with tears streaking your face. "What if they don't believe us? What if this tanks my fellowship apps? Or worse, what if it makes people think I'm not good enough? I've fought for every inch in that department. The late nights studying protocols, the extra simulations, even when I was exhausted. And now some anonymous coward gets to smear it all?"

Robby's touch is gentle as he wipes your cheeks with his thumbs. "Listen to me. You're not being discredited. Not by anyone who matters. Your work stands on its own, patients alive because of you, families grateful. Think of that family that sends you flowers and cupcakes every year after you saved their child, think of all the life’s you’ve positively impacted. The data backs how professional a doctor you are. HR will see that. And if they don't? We'll fight it. Together."

You sniff, leaning into his palm. "I just… I hate feeling like this."

"You're stronger than this shit. Better than it. And fuck anyone who tries to make you doubt that." He pulls you close again, kissing the top of your head, holding you until the sobs ease into shaky breaths. 

Eventually you pull back, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart."

"Don't apologize." He brushes a strand of hair from your face. "You needed to let it out. Hell, I wanted to punch a wall after my meeting."

You manage a watery smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah,” He says, pressing slow and open-mouthed kisses along your neck and cheek, making you shudder from head to toe.

The heat blooms instantly in your lower belly. Just that simple touch, the heat of his lips against your skin, is enough to set your whole body alight with arousal.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t fracture your fifth metacarpal. I wouldn’t want these hands in anything less than perfect condition.”

“Oh, I know how much you like these hands,” he says, downright smug now. He slides his palm to your waist and squeezes, making you jolt against the passenger seat. “Want me to remind you exactly what they can do?”

You nod, too breathless for words. The second your head dips, he’s already moving, stepping out of the car. “C’mon. Inside the house. Now.”

You follow on legs that feel unsteady, knees weak, every step making you feel the wetness between your thighs. You can feel how soaked you already are, the slickness coating your panties, spreading with each movement. Just the promise of him, of what’s coming, has you aching.

As you cross the threshold, Robby lands his hand on your ass in a quick and playful smack. You jolt forward on your feet with a startled laugh that melts into a needy sound.

He doesn’t bother with the stairs, he’s too desperate for that, too impatient. He curls his fingers around your hip, guiding you straight toward the couch in the living room.

Only when you’re both stretched out on the couch, you under him, caged by his body, does he pull back, just far enough to look at you. His gaze drags over your face, your neck, down the line of your body still fully clothed in the soft T-shirt and leggings you threw on after your shift. There’s something reverent in the way he looks at you, like he’s memorizing you all over again, even though he’s seen you like this dozens of times.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and  with the way he says it…  the way his eyes darken further, it makes heat pool in your belly.

He starts slow. His mouth finds yours in a deep and languid kiss as he slips his fingers under the hem of your shirt. He pushes it up inch by inch, trailing his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then down the column of your throat as more skin is exposed. When the shirt is bunched under your arms, he pauses to tug it over your head, tossing it aside without looking. He immediately moves his hands back to you, sliding his palms over the newly bared skin of your waist, your ribs, brushing his thumbs all over the undersides of your breasts through your bra.

Robby kisses his way down your sternum, leaving a trail of wet kisses, pausing to mouth at the swell of one breast over the lace. You instantly arch into him, threading your fingers through his dark hair almost unconsciously, and he hums in approval, the vibration making you twitch under him. With efficiency, because he’s always efficient, he reaches behind you, unhooking your bra with one hand, drawing the straps down your arms slowly as he kisses every inch of skin he uncovers.

When your breasts are bare, he stops, allowing himself just a second to look at you. His breath stutters out, and you feel his hands tremble slightly as they cup your tits, using his thumbs to circle your nipples until they peak under his touch. “Jesus,” he breathes almost to himself. “Look at you. Look at this body.”

Then his mouth is on you. He takes one nipple between his lips, sucking gently at first, barely flicking his tongue. But the tenderness doesn’t last long, he goes harder as his impatience grows, grazing with his teeth just enough to make you gasp. His hand works the other breast in tandem, kneading your soft flesh, rolling and pinching until you’re writhing beneath him, rocking your hips up against his thigh, where it’s pressed between your legs.

He switches sides, giving the same devoted attention and murmuring praise against your tits between kisses. Words like perfect, gorgeous, mine fall from his lips like he can’t help himself. He moves his free hand lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, mapping every inch like he’s starved for it.

Eventually, he moves lower, kissing down your stomach, dipping his tongue into your navel, making you shiver. He hooks a hand into the waistband of your leggings, and he looks up at you, locking his eyes on yours as he peels them down slowly along with your underwear, until you’re completely bare beneath him.

He sits back on his heels for a moment, just drinking you in. The hunger in his expression is raw. It’s the same hunger you saw the first time you laid naked in front of him. “Fuck,” he says quietly, “I could look at you forever.”

You feel yourself flush under the intensity of his compliments, but there’s no embarrassment, only desire. He runs his hands up your calves, behind your knees, along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, parting them gently. His touch is everywhere, exploring your body as if it were the first time he’s ever seen it, worshipping you like you were divine. When he finally slides his fingers between your legs, you’re already soaked, and he groans at the discovery, dropping his head to your thigh as he presses an open-mouthed kiss there. 

“All this for me?” He murmures against your skin, and you can only whimper, a sound he takes as a “yes”. He starts maddeningly slow, dragging the flat of two fingers up through your slick folds in one long pass. He parts you open, spreading your swollen lips wide before sliding back down, coating himself in your wetness. Then he circles your clit with tight little spirals as he watches your face while he touches you. 

He pushes those same two fingers inside you, stretching you open until your walls flutter around the intrusion. He curls them on the withdrawal, dragging over that spongy spot that makes your back arch off the couch. He keeps his thumb pressed on your clit, drawing those circles that give you overwhelming pleasure.

His forearm comes down across your right thigh, pinning it firmly to the couch, forcing you wide open for him. The position leaves you completely exposed, glistening and helpless, and he groans at the sight. You buck your hips uselessly against his hold. 

“Stay still, baby. Let me play with this pretty pussy.” His pace stays torturously controlled, and when he finally lowers his mouth between your legs, you nearly cum right then.

His tongue is fucking molten. Robby starts with wide and sloppy drags at first, coating your entire cunt in wet spit as he laps you up like he’s starving. Then he narrows in, curling the tip over your swollen clit, flicking just hard enough to make your thighs jump. 

“Please… right there, baby, please…” Your throaty moans come straight out of your chest. “Your tongue feels so good!”

He curls his two fingers deeper inside you, grinding his knuckles against you every time he thrusts into you. Robby groans against your pussy, like he’s getting off on the taste alone. Suddenly, he's yanking you down onto his face so there’s no escape, so he can bury his nose against your mound, fucking you with his fingers while his lips suck messily around your clit.

“Taste so goddamn sweet I could stay here all night.” He pulls away just for a second, just to admire his wrecked you look. “Keep those thighs open for me, baby.”

Every time you try to squirm, he growls and pulls you back harder, smearing your slick across his chin, his beard, his whole face glistening with you. He’s relentless and greedy, moaning louder when you clench around his fingers, like he’s chasing his own release just from drowning in your cunt.

“I’m gonna cum—fuck, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—”

You’re trembling now, your thighs shaking around his head, and your fingers twisting tight in his hair as the pleasure takes you higher and higher. He doesn’t let up, he keeps devouring your pussy until you arch your back off the couch as the orgasm crashes over you in waves.

You gush against his mouth, and he flattens his tongue wide to catch every hot pulse of your release. Robby laps at the flood greedily, with long drags up your soaked folds, gathering the slick that’s dripping down your ass and pooling beneath you. He seals his lips around your clit again, coaxing out the last trembling spurts while you whimper and twitch.

Then he dips lower, pushing his tongue inside your fluttering hole to taste you one more time, slurping noisily at the creamy sheen coating his chin and dripping from his mouth.

He doesn’t stop until you’re boneless and totally oversensitive, tugging weakly at his hair to pull him up.

Only then does he back up your body, kissing every inch along the way, until he’s hovering over you again, his beard glistening with your arousal, and his eyes dark with satisfaction. You pull him down into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Your hands frame his face, brushing your thumbs over his wet facial hair, “You’re amazing. God, Robby… you make me feel so good. Every time.”

He exhales sharply, his eyes are full of pride, the satisfaction of a man who knows he succeeded in deeply satisfying his woman. He kisses you again, slower this time, “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You smile into the kiss, sliding your fingers down his neck, over the collar of his T-shirt. He’s still fully clothed, and suddenly that feels unfair. You tug at the hem. “Your turn.”

He sits back on his heels, letting you pull the shirt over his head. You take your time, tracing the lines of his chest as they’re revealed, his broad shoulders, the muscles earned from years of hauling patients and running around the ED. You move your hands lower, untying the drawstring of his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers. He helps kick them off, and then he’s bare above you, unapologetically himself. You drop your gaze to appreciate his naked body, and the heat floods you all over again.

His cock is thick and long, the veins are standing out in pulsing ridges along the shaft, the fat head flushed dark  and already glistening with precum that beads at the slit and slowly drips down the underside. It rests against the plane of his lower belly, the tip kissing just below his navel, smearing a shiny wet trail there. The dark, trimmed, but still wild, hair at the base is the same texture as the beard on his face, unkempt and curling slightly where it meets the root.

You wrap your hand around him, your fingers barely meeting around the girth. The skin is hot and smoothl, and he’s throbbing hard against your palm like it’s got its own heartbeat. You feel every ridge, every vein, the way it twitches and swells thicker in your grip. A fresh bead of precum wells up and slides over your thumb as you stroke once, lazily.

He jerks his hips forward involuntarily, fucking up into your fist like he can’t help it, chasing the pressure. The motion makes his balls draw up tight, brushing the heel of your hand.

“Fuck… your hand,” he rasps, one hand hovering over yours like he’s fighting not to grab your wrist and make you move faster. His cock pulses again, and another thick drop of precum spills over your knuckles. He shudders when you squeeze just right at the base, milking another low moan out of him. “Baby, you’re killing me.”

Robby doesn’t let you tease for long. He leans down, kissing you hard. “Need to be inside you,” he says against your lips. “Need to feel you around me.”

Without a word, he stands up and slides his strong arms under your thighs. He positions you near the edge of the couch, as he stands between your spread legs. You whimper, letting your thighs fall open wider on instinct. 

He doesn't give you time to beg. Robby just steps closer, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock and the other sliding under your ass. He lifts your hips off the couch in a single effortless motion, bringing your pussy to the same level as his member. Your lower back arches off the edge of the couch, keeping your shoulders, neck, and head still pressed into the cushions, but your legs dangling uselessly in the air except where he holds you up.

The position is obscene, it feels vulnerable, you’re completely at his mercy. Your pussy hovers just above the couch, exposed and dripping. 

He drags the swollen head of his cock through your drenched folds, letting the fat tip catch on your entrance, then slide up to nudge your oversensitive clit, smearing your slick all over him until his shaft glistens. Then, without warning, he lines up, notches the blunt head against your fluttering hole, and thrusts in hard. 

Your back bows off the couch like you’ve been electrocuted, a cry tearing from your throat as your cunt is forced to take every thick inch at once. The stretch is fucking devastating, it always is with him, it makes your walls clamp down instinctively around the invasion. He bottoms out right away, slamming his hips flush to yours, the coarse hair at his base grinding right up against your clit, rasping over it with every tiny shift.

He stays buried deep, unmoving for a long second, letting you feel it all, the throb of his cock stretching you wide, the way his balls press tight against your ass, the way your pussy ripples and squeezes around him like it’s trying to push him out and pull him deeper at the same time.

He’s breathing hard through his nose like he’s savoring the moment. “So tight… You have no idea how good you feel.”

"Fuck—Robby—" You cry out, but he doesn't give you any more time to adjust. He starts fucking you immediately, with punishing snaps of his hips that drive him deep every time. 

Each thrust jolts your whole body, making your breasts bounce, tipping your head back against the cushion. The angle is devastating, he's hitting that spot inside you on every stroke, dragging the head of his cock against your G-spot relentlessly.

You can't keep quiet, the whimpers and moans spill out of you, the words tumbling between gasps. "S-so—good—fuck—ha-ah-rder—please!"

He drops his gaze to where you’re joined, fixating his eyes on the filthy sight of his cock splitting you open, glistening with your slick every time he pulls out slow, only to slam back in deep, stretching your pussy wide around him. Your arousal is coating his shaft, dripping down his balls with every thrust.

His stare lingers there a moment longer, watching how your lips cling to him, how your clit peeks out every time he bottoms out. Then he drags his eyes higher, llanding on your tits, on the way they’re bouncing hard with the force of his hips. One hand leaves the grip on your hip, sliding up until he cups one breast, his palm engulfing it completely. His swipes his thumb over the stiff peak, sending a jolt straight to your core. 

“Look at you,” he rasps. “These tits… fuck! Moving just like that while I fuck you. You’re gorgeous. You’re so beautiful. I’ll never get tired of watching you.”

He speeds up gradually, the slap of skin on skin filling the room, mixed with your gasps and his groans.  Robby digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your ass as he holds you exactly where he wants you, lifted and open, helpless to do anything but take it. The couch creaks under the force, the cushions shifting beneath your shoulders.

"Look at me," he orders you, "Watch me fuck you. You feel how sloppy this pussy gets when I’m fucking you?”

You force your eyes open, meeting his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, and his face looks flushed as he pounds harder into you. The sight… the way his cock disappears into you over and over, it makes you clench hard around him.

"Fuck! yeah, just like that," he groans. "Squeeze me like that."

You do, and your walls start fluttering and gripping him on every withdrawal, trying to swallow his cock, to keep him deep inside you and milk his load. Your hands scrabble at the cushions, digging your nails into the fabric, then up to his forearms, clinging as he fucks you harder.

He angles his hips higher, tilting just right so the ridge of his cock drags relentlessly over that swollen spot inside you. The pressure makes you curl your toes, and your vision blur at the edges. You bite your lip to desperately muffle a scream, but it still rips out anyway, way too loud, echoing off the walls like you’re trying to wake the whole damn neighborhood.

“There?” Robby snaps his hips faster, keeping that same angle that has the head of his cock punching right up against your cervix, a kind of pleasure so intense it borders on pain. “Right there, baby?” 

"God! Yes! Robby! right there—don't stop! Right there!" You scream, and he doesn't stop. If anything, he goes harder, thrusting into you with bruising force, making his balls slap against your ass on every thrust. The angle also makes your clit rub against his pelvis every time he bottoms out, sending bursts of pleasure spiking through you.

"Your pussy’s so fucking tight," he pants. "So wet… you’re dripping down my thighs, making a big mess—" You can feel it, your arousal is slicking his cock, coating his base, dripping down to where his fingers grip your ass. The couch is probably ruined, but neither of you cares. "Touch yourself. Play with that pretty clit, cum on my cock."

Your hand flies between your legs, finding your swollen clit and circling it fast with your fingertips. The added stimulation shatters you, your cunt clamps down hard around his cock like a vice. 

“Fuck… yeah, rub that clit for me. Make yourself cum for me. You don’t know how pretty you look like this..”

"R-robby—I'm—g-gonna—"

"Do it," his thrusts start to turn erratic, he’s losing the rhythm as he chases his own edge. "Cum—let me feel it… fuck—"

You shatter. The orgasm rips through you, harder than the first, making your walls clamp down on him like a vise, pulsing in tight waves. You cry out his name, arching your back so sharp your shoulders lift off the couch as your fingers keep rubbing frantic circles over your clit to drag it out.

He groans loud, his hips stuttering as your contractions squeeze him. "Fuck—fuck—take it—Gonna pump you so full."

He buries himself deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he cums hard inside you. You feel every single fat rope of his thick load painting your walls, filling you up until it’s too much, until the pressure builds and you can feel the warmth spreading and coating every inch of you. His cock jerks with each release, the head pressed tight against your cervix like he’s trying to pump it straight into your womb. He grinds in filthy circles, rolling his hips to milk every last drop out of himself and into you. 

You can feel the heat of his cum starting to leak out around his buried length, mixing with your own mess, dripping down your ass and soaking the couch beneath you. He doesn’t pull out, just keeps you pinned there while his cock softens, but still remains thick inside you, plugging you full while he catches his breath.

For a long moment neither of you moves, but after a couple of minutes he slowly lowers your hips back to the couch, careful now, easing out with a low hiss. You feel the warm trickle of his cum leaking out, pooling under you, making an even bigger mess.

Robby exhales against your neck, scraping his beard against your tender skin. “You’re fucking incredible,” his words go straight into your bones. “I can’t even begin to tell you how good you make me feel.”

Suddenly, everything else just… dissolves. The remarks from the other residents about you and Robby, the tedious HR meeting, the people who doubted your worth and your hard work. All of it vanishes.

“Better?” he whispers, brushing his lips to your ear.

You huff a quiet laugh against his skin. “Yeah. Better.”

You stay like that, wrapped around each other, the anger and sadness from the day burned away, at least for tonight. Tomorrow will bring whatever it brings. But right now, it’s just you and him.

A/N: Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll write anything else for Robby, inspiration works in mysterious ways, so we’ll see.

If you’re a moot, hi🫶🏻 If this is your first time seeing me, I usually write for Joel Miller and Tom Hardy’s characters, and I also have an updates account @cinnxmxngxrlupdates

Hope this wasn’t so bad lol

Your'e so fucking out of it. All you can really focus on – or see, for that matter – is Robby pumping into you. You struggle to grasp onto to cloudy images of Robby's cock, the weight of his hand on your hip, Jack behind you. You feel like you're underwater.

Jack holds the back of your head, "look at that," he practically goads at the way your cunt swallows the length of Robby's cock, "prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Robby hums something in agreement that you don't quite catch.

You mumble something that sounds like a word but you're not quite sure. You're not even sure what you need, or if you said anything at all.

But in the midst of your foggy headspace, Jack notices.

Because of course Jack does. He's your lighthouse when your rafts lost at sea — when you find yourself farther from shore than you thought you were.

Its a gentle squeeze at the base of your neck, thumb and forefinger pressing against your pulse point just enough to kinda wake you up in the heavy fog of your head.

You jolt a little, slipping further into Jack's chest, tucking yourself into him in an attempt to hide yourself away for a moment.

Robby slows, gradually pumping into you but giving you a moment of reprieve while you tremble in Jack's lap.

"Jackie," you sniffle.

Jack pulls back some to look at you. "Y'okay, sweetheart?"

You fluster, whimpering under his gaze and shutting your eyes and tucking yourself further into his chest.

His brows furrow at that and he urges you upwards, detangling you from the warmth of him, "No hiding right now, c'mon."

Robby smoothes his palms up and down the length of your thighs, pressing whiskered kisses to the skin of your hips.

Jack cups your jaw in one hand, the other holding the back of your head. You both watch eachother for a moment.

"Y'okay?"

You nod, you can tell he seems unconvinced.

"Use your words."

Jack's voice deepens in that oh-so gooey heavy way that makes your head feels like its been covered in honey.

You nod again, wrapping a small hand around Jack's wrist, thumbing the vein right beneath his palm, dragging his hand up to slip his thumb past your lips, "m'okay, daddy," you mumble around his digit.

That word shifts the tone of the room and suddenly Jack is everywhere he wasn't and Robby's cock pulses within you.

"Yeah?" He slips the hand from your head down between your legs to spread your folds open where Robby's girth stretches you wide, thumb circling over your swollen clit, "just needed daddy here, huh."

He watches the way tears well at your lashline as you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him under your wet lashes, "mhm," your voice is strained and wrought.

Jack presses kisses to your cheek up your temple, whispering "daddy's here," he soothes you when you whimper, brain melting away at the warm place that Jack's presence moves you towards, "s'okay, baby, you're okay," words muffle when he turns your jaw, pulling you into a kiss.

Robby pumps into you and you moan into Jack's mouth, holding his wrist where he cups the underside your jaw.

"She okay?" Robby cocks his head, thick brows raising, towards Jack. You can feel him nod against you and you try to hold onto some part of Robby but just end up looking up at him under heavy lashes, lips parted.

Robby seems to understand, "just needed daddy t'calm y'down a bit, huh, honey."

You nod tearfully, "yes sir."

Robby chuckles a little at that, "yes sir," he muses and leans forward with a groan, grabbing ahold of your cheeks, smushing them together so that your lips pucker, catching your swollen lips in a kiss.

His nose bumps against your own and your tongue swipes over the roof of his mouth earning a deep-rooted groan from the older man.

Robby pulls away from you but keeps his hand on your cheeks as he pumps into you. "Give daddy a kiss," he urges you towards Jack.

Jack hums once you've turned back to him, silver eyes watch the way his thumb runs over the plush of your bottom lip, whispering "hey, baby."

"Hi," you whisper back, breath catching in your throat when Robby angles his hips just enough so that the swollen head of his cock bruises against the spongey part of your heat.

You try to look at them both, eyes shifting from either man as you struggle to warn them, the wound string in the heat of you wrought tight, bordering on snapping.

A whimper falls past your lips, settling in your throat when Robby circles your clit and spreads your sopping folds open where his girth parts you.

"Think m'gonna cum again," you sob, eyes settling on Jack when he shushes you softly.

"I know. Just keep breathin' fr'me, sweetheart."

The tears fall faster than you can stop them, brows furrowing and lashes tickling your flushed cheeks when your scrunch your eyes closed, the heavy pleasure sinking you underneath it all.

It feels almost like you're drowning. Your ears ring and there's an uncertain fuzziness that settles in the core of you. Wading out on a raft.

"Thank you sir, thank you, thank you," you ramble through heavy tears and choked sobs that dont seem to stop.

Jack holds you to his chest, his chin atop your head as he strokes a hand down down the middle of your breasts, massaging your sternum softly.

Robby hisses from above you when your walls clamp down around him. He circles your clit as he gently rocks you through it, balls pressed up against your folds when he spills into you, "fucking good girl."

You're shivering in the warmth of Jack's arms, trembling as you grasp on to him.

"That was a big one, huh," Jack hums when he feels you begin to relax, legs no longer tense and your grip on him turns soft.

You nod against him, eyes heavy. You swallow dryly, coughing a little when the back of your throat

"Was a lot," you mumble through a wet giggle.

Jack hums and strokes a hand over your warm cheek, pulling back strands of hair that stick to your clammy temple, "and y'did so good," he coos, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Peering over at Robby, he smiles down at you, slowly and gently pulling out of you. He takes a moment to spread the swollen lips of your pussy open, watching the way his cum dribbles out of your swollen cunt.

"Good girl," he whispers softly, looking back up at you before leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your lips, "so pretty fr'us, honey."

Still breathing heavily, you let yourself settle in their hold of you, sandwiched between the two of them.

"I love you, Robby... love you, Jackie," you nuzzle either of them with each confession, running your hands over any inch of skin you can reach.

Robby kisses your nose, "I know."

Jack whispers it back into your hair and presses a kiss there.

“Yeah, that’s it sweetheart.” Dr. Robby groans when the tip of his cock presses against your opening. He has his large hands splayed over your thighs, spreading your legs, with his gaze trained fiercely between them. His fingertips dig into your flesh when the head of his cock disappears.  “Fuck. Look at how good you take me.” 

You let out a mewling whimper, toes curling and back arching as you lift off of the mattress. His cock is thick, and he pushes in slowly. You’re shocked by the sheer pleasure of it. 

“You getting close already, princess?” He asks roughly, a teasing edge in his voice. He smirks when all you can manage is a whine in response. “Yeah? Does my cock stretching you out feel that good?” 

“So good, Robby.” Your response comes out in a rushed whimpery breath. He nods an unspoken “I know it does, baby.” His hands leave your trembling thighs to plant on either side of your head, holding his weight above you. Your own shoot up to grasp his forearms. 

“Not even halfway there and you’re a fucking mess for me.” He grits out. Without warning he pulls his hips back, then rocks forwards, feeding you another inch. You choke on a gasp. He chuckles. “You’re too cute.”  

You intake a shaky breath, muscles taught and chest tight with the overwhelming pleasure of his cock inside you. “Robby, it’s too much-“

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” He cuts you off. He tilts his head down to catch your gaze, his brown eyes firm and reassuring despite their lust-blown state. “You’re gonna cum for me.”

He rocks his hips, starting a slow, purposeful pace. He’s well acquainted with your pussy — each thrust glides right over your g-spot, and his tip kisses your cervix each time he reaches the hilt. The combination sends you plunging over the edge in no time. Your brows furrow and your mouth falls open, a moan catching in your throat as pleasure rolls through you in overwhelming waves. 

“That’s it,” Robby grits out. He keeps up his steady movements, groaning softly at the feeling of your walls pulsing around him. “That’s a good girl.” 

You pant softly as you start to come down. Robby lowers onto his elbows to connect his lips with yours, his beard deliciously rough against your face. 

The feeling of his tongue sliding past your lips is almost enough to distract you when he starts to fuck into you at a faster pace — but your pussy is still alight from orgasm. His thick cock sears into your sensitive flesh. His tip drives incessantly against your cervix. 

“Robby,” you whine into his mouth, a pitiful appeal for mercy. He shakes his head, pulling back from your lips. 

“You can give me another one,” he assures. Your nails dig into the skin of his forearms, surely carving dents, but Robby doesn’t waver. You shake your head. He fixes you with a stern look. You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I can’t,” you insist. He raises his brows at you — a warning or a challenge, you’re not quite sure. Your confidence wanes. “Robby, I can’t.” You repeat meekly. 

“No?” He intones. 

Suddenly there’s contact against your clit, making your hips jerk. Robby’s fingers quickly fall into a well-practiced pattern, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive nerves. You let out a long moan.

“Ohhhh,” Robby echoes mockingly. His voice is rough and slightly strained with the sustained effort of fucking into you. “Yeah, baby. That’s what I thought.” 

Stuttered whimpers and whines spill from your lips, broken up by the jolting force of Robby’s thrusts.  

You find yourself once again hurtling towards orgasm faster than you could have imagined. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” He encourages lowly. “Be good for me. You’re doing so fucking well. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.” 

That’s all it takes to get you there. It all feels so good you almost can’t process it — his fingers rubbing your clit, his cock driving against your g-spot, his hot breath against your neck. 

The moan you let out as you cum is downright pornographic. Robby’s quick to follow suit with a deep groan, giving one more hard thrust before spilling inside you.

Your chest heaves. Your eyes are squeezed shut— tight—making bright sparks flicker wildly behind your eyelids. You try to catch your breath. Your cunt pulses rhythmically around Robby. Slowly, the intensity of your orgasm begins to recede. 

Your eyes flutter open. You see Robby’s mouth moving, and you squint at him, trying to focus on his words through your bliss-clouded mind. 

You wince when he pulls out of you. A line of cum drips out in his wake, and you let out a whimper. Or, you think you do? You stare at him, his lips still moving, and panic starts to bubble up inside you. What is he saying?

“Robby—“ your voice is muffled to your own ears. You hastily rise up on your elbows. Robby shakes his head at you, large hands coming out to grasp your shoulders, stilling you. He holds your gaze, eyes steady and earnest. You calm down a bit. You swallow thickly and say, still muffled, “I can’t hear you.” 

He nods at you. You watch his lips closely when he speaks this time, and manage to recognize the words: “You’re okay, sweetheart. Just breathe.”

You focus on matching Robby’s deep, measured  breaths. His eyes never stray from yours while you do. Eventually, your ears ring faintly, and the ambient sounds surrounding you — the soft hum of the air conditioning, the distant rush of traffic outside — begin to fade into attention. 

“There you go.” Robby’s rough voice finally finds your ears through the stubborn remnants of cotton. “Guess that was a good one, huh?”

“Holy shit,” you exhale, laughing softly. You still feel dazed “That was insane.” 

Robby lets out a hum of acknowledgement. Two long fingers sweep across your forehead, which is damp with perspiration, to softly tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“I didn’t even know that could happen.” You speak again after a moment.

“Mhm.” Robby reaches for a washcloth stashed in the top drawer of your nightstand. “Your blood pressure drops when you orgasm, and so does the pressure in your middle ear.” He explains, beginning to gently clean between your legs. “If that happens suddenly enough it can make you temporarily lose your hearing.”