Page 50 of Charmed, I’m Sure (Witches of Bellevue #1)

As if her brain took an extra second to register that it was me who had called her name, her head whipped back toward me, eyes wide, mouth agape. “I’ll, uh… I need to call you back, Jae.”

Her gaze flicked over my face as she took a hesitant step forward, tucking her phone into her pocket. “Taylor, what… what are you doing here?”

I pointed to the hospital name and logo on my coat. “I, uh… I work here.”

It was a statement, but good God, it sounded like a question.

Recognition flashed in her eyes, and she nodded. “Right. Sorry.”

It had been over a week since I’d seen her—since we’d said anything to each other—and this being the reason she was finally back in my orbit was killing me.

In that moment, I wasn’t Dr. Hallows. I was just Taylor, and all I wanted was to pull her into my arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

“Magnolia—” I stopped when her eyes snapped to mine, a fresh well of tears lining her lashes. “Shit, baby, come here.”

I barely took two steps before she launched herself into my arms, burying her face against my chest, her body shaking as her tears soaked into my scrub top.

This wasn’t the reunion I wanted.

But fuck if it didn’t feel like I could finally breathe again.

“I was so worried that it was you in that bed,” I murmured against her hair. “Fuck, I was so scared.”

Her arms tightened around my waist, and I ran a hand up and down her spine, some of the tension I’d been holding onto finally ebbing away now that I knew she was in one piece.

“I’m alright. It’s Aunt Evie,” she choked out, her words muffled against my chest.

“Dr. Hallows?” Chelsea’s voice was soft, her eyes flicking between me and the back of Magnolia’s head.

I swallowed hard. “Go on in, Chels. I’ll be there in a minute. But after, I need to let Fredmont know I can’t take this patient.”

Magnolia jerked out of my hold, her eyes frantically scanning my face. “What do you mean you can’t take this patient? Why? What’s going—”

“Shh. Mags, baby, breathe.” I pulled her back toward me, nodding at Chelsea, who slipped inside the patient’s room with a wary look over her shoulder. Once the door clicked shut, I turned my full attention to Magnolia.

“I can’t treat your aunt because it’s a conflict of interest.”

“What conflict of interest?” she demanded, panic rising in her voice.

“You, Magnolia. You’re my conflict of interest. Evie deserves the best care she can get, and I can’t give that to her because I’ll be too worried about you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

I pulled her into my arms again, resting my chin on top of her head, relishing the steadying cadence of her breathing against my chest.

“Why don’t you go grab a coffee while I check on Evie, okay? I’ll update you when you get back.”

She nodded against my chest, and I pressed a kiss to the top of her head before letting her go, watching as she took slow, defeated steps down the hallway before disappearing toward the lobby.

With a steadying breath, I turned and headed for her aunt’s room, bracing myself for what I was about to see.

“How we doing in here?” I asked as I stepped through the door, keeping the question general in case Evie was awake. She wasn’t.

“Vitals are good, but she’s been in and out of consciousness. Probably got a gnarly concussion.”

I nodded, rounding the bed as I pulled my stethoscope from my coat pocket.

After rousing her just enough to get consent for an examination, I checked her over, grimacing every time I inadvertently caused her pain.

I never wanted to hurt a patient. But when it was someone you knew—someone you cared about—it made it that much worse.

One of the many reasons medical professionals weren’t supposed to treat people they had personal ties to.

By the time Magnolia returned, I’d ordered something to manage Evie’s pain, Chelsea had drawn blood for the lab, and we had her scheduled for a CT scan and x-rays.

The concussion was obvious—we just needed to determine how severe.

I also suspected she’d at least fractured her left arm, but imaging would confirm.

Unfortunately, radiology was backed up. It was going to be a while before they could get her in.

Magnolia took in the information in stride, nodding as each fact was laid at her feet. But she looked exhausted. Sitting in the chair outside her aunt’s room, her head rested against the wall, eyes drooping, her entire body folding in on itself.

Squatting next to her, I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and whispered, “Why don’t you head home? She’s staying overnight—you might as well go get some rest.”

“I… I can’t.” Her voice was so quiet I almost missed it. “I don’t want to be alone. Not after everything that’s happened.”

“Where’s Maddie?”

She sighed, heavy and worn. “I called her, but she’s out of town at some book thing. She can’t get a flight back until tomorrow.”

“Meredith?”

A slow shake of her head. “Still taking finals. I didn’t want to distract her.”

“Come home with me.” The words left my mouth before I had the chance to think them through, but I didn’t regret them.

Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and piercing, and I swallowed before clearing my throat.

“I get off in”—I checked my watch—“about an hour. Come home with me, baby. Let me take care of you.”

She hesitated. “I don’t want to intrude, Taylor.”

“It’s not intruding if you have a key, sunshine. Besides that, I want you there.”

“You’re sure?”

“Never been more sure in my life.”

“Goddammit,” Megan seethed as she stepped back into the nurses’ station, radiating pure annoyance.

“What’s up, doc?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

The rest of the shift had flown by in a blur, and I was ten minutes away from getting out of here with my girl. Yeah, the circumstances weren’t ideal, but I’d take what I could get.

“That little”—she paused, scanning the floor to make sure no patients were within earshot, then dropped her voice to a whisper—“shit in bed two just left AMA.”

I grimaced. A patient leaving against medical advice always meant more paperwork—paperwork they were supposed to sign before walking out. But I guessed her patient didn’t feel like sticking around.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Need help with anything?”

“Yeah, can you mark him AMA in the system and print the forms for me? I’d ask Rhonda, but she’s already up to her elbows in triage, and I really need to pee.”

I made a face. “I really didn’t need to know that.”

“Buck up, Dr. Hallows. And thank you!” she called as she darted toward the staff bathroom.

My laugh died the second I pulled up Megan’s patient’s chart.

Kyle. Fucking. LeBlanc.