Princess

Chapter 36: Heirs

Damon

"Helloooooo?"

That sing-song voice rang through the house, bringing a ridiculous smile to my face.

"Kitchen," I said back. Behind me, I heard the rustle of keys, a groan as she slipped her shoes off, and the clang of her bag falling somewhere. Then, those slim arms wrapped around my chest from behind while I chopped things on the block in front of me.

"Hi, pretty boy," Ariadne murmured against my back. "What are you making?"

"Something filled with carbs, I assure you."

Her laugh was soft and gentle as she pressed kisses into my shoulder. I wondered if she had any fucking idea what those innocuous little things did to me. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, every time she said anything to me, it literally felt like I was going to explode.

"You smell good," she said randomly.

Amusement rose inside me. "Are you sniffing me? I'm alarmed." All she did was squeeze her arms tighter around me. It wasn't like her not to talk much and that was my first sign. "Long day?"

"Yeah," she said quietly, but the tone of her voice was off.

"You wanna talk about it?" I asked carefully.

In that same low voice, the one that made me more upset than I cared to admit, she whispered, "I lost a patient today."

Fuck.

Death was something I was used to in my line of work. But Ariadne wasn't in my line of work–she was in the exact opposite. She healed people–kids—every single day. And with how loving and kind she was, I had no doubt she took every single one of those losses hard.

I set the knife in my hands down and turned, leaning back against the kitchen counter. Those soft browns were sad–an emotion I resented seeing in her eyes. She looked up at me with remorse when I pulled her in between my legs and cupped her face with my hand.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded. "He was only two. He was a premie when he was born and had all kind of issues–his lungs weren't fully developed, his heart was weak. We all knew it was coming but it still sucks, you know? I'm–I was his primary care physician so I'd seen him constantly for two years and now I'm not going to anymore."

I nodded, trying to find the words to say something comforting, something that would make her feel better. All I could come up with was, "I'm sorry."

A wistful smile crossed her face as she leaned her cheek further into my palm and kissed it. "I can't imagine being a pediatrician who has her own kids. Can you imagine losing patients and having every single one remind you of your own kid?"

"Don't know how you do it even if you're not a parent," I admitted.

"You cope, I guess," she shrugged. "You talk to people, you carry them in your heart and your mind, and you do the best you can for every patient after that."

"You do that already. I know you do."

She rose on her toes and kissed me softly before asking me a question that nearly took my breath away. "Do you ever think about kids?"

My heart was beating so violently I was almost sure she could hear it from where she was leaning against me. I blinked at her and her eyes widened in alarm.

"I'm not saying like–with me–oh my fucking God, sorry did I freak you out with that? Please please don't–"

I pressed a finger against her lip, holding her face in both hands, amusement bringing a light smile to my face. She was so nervous and for what?