well.
She walked a few steps behind me, following me towards the elevator. I didn’t like the fact that she felt the need to walk behind me rather than next to me. I knew some other men probably wouldn’t have noticed. It was obvious that Michael didn’t, but I did. She needed to learn to walk with me, not behind me. Hopefully, she would go home and do the same with Michael. If she viewed herself as his equal, then he would soon begin to see her as his equal, as well.
Slowing my pace, we evened out, walking next to each other. She noticed and with hesitation, she looked over at me, a slight crease in her brow.
“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” I teased.
She frowned. “What?”
“You walk behind me like you don’t want anyone to know we’re together.” Despite the seriousness of my question, I left my smile in place.
She laughed. “Of course not. I just walk slowly. Michael is always telling me how sluggish I walk.” She made a sound that was meant to resemble a giggle. “But when I walk too fast, he wants to know what my hurry is. Men.” She shook her head.
Her eyes were teasing when she grinned up at me, but I didn’t like that she categorized Michael’s insensitivity as a general trait we all had.
When I wrapped my fingers around her arm, her soft skin was warm under my palm. We moved together, same pace, same path—equal.
“You don’t walk too slowly or too fast, Samantha, and you deserve to stand next to the person you’re with without them leaving you behind.”
We reached the elevator doors. I pushed the up button, and it lit up as we waited for the doors to open. She stood quietly beside me, our shoulders brushing against each other briefly, and I could feel her warmth. I stared at her reflection in the steel elevator doors until they opened, splitting our images apart.
We stepped into the empty elevator, and I was quick to push the button before anyone could join us. I knew Samantha wasn’t finished with our conversation, and I wanted her to be able to say what she needed to say.
The doors seemed to shut in super slow motion, but they closed before anyone could join us. I sighed in relief as I waited for Samantha to say something.
“I always feel like I embarrass Michael because I don’t behave the way the others wives do. Michael’s never been the touchy-feely kind, but he used to hold my hand and wait for me. Somewhere along the line, that all stopped. I guess I wasn’t good enough anymore.”
The elevator came to a halt and, whether I wanted them to or not, the doors opened. I moved between the doors, keeping them from closing, and looked Samantha in the face.
“Not all men are like that, Samantha. I’m not like that. I want you next to me, not behind me. I’ll always wait for you, okay?”
A slow smile stretched her lips. “Okay.”
Smiling, I moved aside and she walked ahead of me, waiting until I walked with her toward the nurse’s station. We were on the seventh floor of the hospital—the burn unit.
As always, there were four nurses at the front desk and each of them had their hands full. I knew most of them, and each one of them worked day and night to take care of the kids. The nurses were their hope, their strength, their laughter, and most importantly, the keepers of chocolate pudding and ice cream.
I smiled at my favorite nurse, Linda, as I leaned on the counter and winked at her.
“Dr. Blake, how nice to see you today. The kids are going to be very happy to see you,” she said as she pulled out three files and handed them over.
“The feeling is utterly mutual,” I said as I flipped through the files and took in the information that the night nurses had penned in.
“I think Tori asked me at least thirty times if you were coming in today. She’s excited for you to meet the newbie.” Linda raised her eyes at me and gave me the look.
“What’s his name?”
She laughed. “David. David Reynolds.” And then her expression shifted, and she