Emergency Medical Dad

LIV: late august, present

edit: ch title number was wrong
JESSIE

Eight days left. We have eight days left with Jorgen. His plane has been booked, some of his stuff packed and ready to be shipped back up north. Connor's finishing some of the stuff we had him work through for going to the public school which he's terrified about, and I've never felt a household more tense.

    "Last midnight shift," I look up at him, his uniform sitting on his shoulders, giving me a moment of rather cloudy appreciation.

    The deadline has made my feelings about him fuzzy. I can't tell if I want him, truly, if every time he gets near me the urge to kiss him is real, or if it's some last ditch effort in my head to get all of him before he's gone. I know kissing him would mess everything up, would screw over our pact, would do everything in its power to mess with everything we've set up. But for the momentary relief, the feeling of his lips on mine, I'd do it.

    "Last midnight shift," he sighs, looking back down at me. "I'm not ready to leave."

    "I know, I'm not ready for you to go." I reach forward and smooth the front of his shirt, taking out a noticeable wrinkle in the way he's tucked it in.

    "A week from tomorrow," he mumbles, lifting his arms to let me fix his shirt, his abs tensing every time my hand comes in contact with him. "And then..."

    "Then all winter," I pull back, checking over my work.

    "Not... all winter. I can get away for an hour or so at a time when we're near here. When we play the Blackhawks."

    I look up at him, his hopeful tired eyes.

    "I know an hour doesn't cut it but it's better than nothing."

    "When are you back first?"

    He chews his lip, "we play them in the first week of October."

    I wince, "that's not far."

    "It's not soon, either, and we won't be back down here again until January."

    That lands like a stake in my heart. One hour or so in October and then nothing for two full months.

    "Suddenly," I mutter. "I have more respect for military wives."

    He lets out half of a huff of air that could've been mistaken for a tiny laugh but it's so drowned out I can't hear it, "can we wait a week to be sad, please?"

    "Yeah," I nod. "Let's. Please."

    "Alright," he wraps his arm around my back, tucking me into his chest. "I'll be back in eight hours. Midnight. Maybe later if it shakes out that I have to cover half of Hobbes' shift. If I don't come home immediately, don't worry. I'm okay."

    I nod into his chest.

    "Only fifty six hours of shifts left," he takes my face in his hands. "Seven days."

    "What's your work schedule like up north?"

    "Wild," he sighs. "But I promise to call, alright, for now I have to go."

    "Stay safe," I pat his side.

    He gives me a half smile, mostly a purse of his lips, then he's gone.

***

    He's back at midnight, like promised. Except he doesn't stick his head into my room and say goodnight before heading to his, he slips inside.