Page 27 of Stat: Love In Scrubs

T he ride home was silent. Esa had fallen asleep in the back, and I could tell, although I told Desmond it was okay. The interaction with Veronica’s parents was still taking a toll on him.

I was silent because what could I say to make this moment any better? Nothing. So silence was my go-to method. I didn’t want him to feel as if he had to speak if he didn’t want to.

We finally made it back to his place. I reached for the door handle, and Desmond cleared his throat. I guess he wasn’t that distracted, so I dropped my hands into my lap to wait for him to open my door.

Tonight, he parked in the garage. Which further clued me into his state of mind. Finally, he walked around to my side and opened the door for me.

“What I tell you about door handles, baby?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“That you got it.”

“Right. I’m not that out of it. I’ll always make sure I treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I know tonight has been an off night, but I want to put Esa in bed and lay up in it. Can you handle that?” he asked.

The hunger in his eyes was evident, but so was his need for comfort. If all my man needed to feel peace was to be laid up in my haven, I was going to do that.

I nodded, and he leaned down to kiss me, then stepped towards Esa’s door to carry her inside. How easily that man slipped from Big Daddy to Daddy’s role was entertaining to me. I went to grab my bag so I could help him, and he stopped mid-step while holding Esa to glance back at me.

“I’ll come back out for it, baby. Come get comfortable.” He said, nodding towards the garage door.

I released my hold on the door, then went into the kitchen to grab two bottles of water while he took Esa upstairs. I soon followed him up and stood in the doorway as Esa woke up.

“Daddy, where is Yara?” she asked, looking around for me until her eyes fell upon me.

I stepped away from the doorframe, then entered the room. I sat on the edge of her bed, and Desmond stood to grab her pajamas from her dresser. I reached out my hand to take them from him. He paused for a moment, then relinquished his hold on them.

“I got it.”

He nodded, then left the room. I’m sure to grab my bag from the truck. I returned my attention to Esa, whose eyes were heavy, but she was keeping them trained on me.

“Lift your arms for me, sweetheart so that we can put your pajamas on.”

She nodded and followed my instructions.

“Ms. Yara.”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Why were my grandparents so mean to you and Daddy today? And they didn’t even say goodbye.”

I didn’t expect her to ask me this, and I wasn’t sure I should be the one answering. But I also knew she asked me for a reason. I released a sigh and gave her the best answer I could.

“Sometimes adults feel wild emotions just like kids. You know how sometimes you feel weird about things you can’t explain. This is kind of like that. I think maybe I was a shock to them, so they didn’t know how to react to me.”

Esa nodded, then craned her head to the side.

“Daddy said they went on a vacation. I thought vacations make you happy. They sure make me happy. Maybe they didn’t go on the right kind of vacation.” She said seriously.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her innocence. I knew she was serious because only my laughter caused her to laugh as well.

“Vacations can make you happy, but you have to want to be happy. Maybe the next vacation they take will be better, and they will be happier the next time.” I told her, not wanting to rid her of the analogy Desmond was using with her.

She nodded, then wrapped her arms around my neck.

“I love you so much.”

I wrapped my arms around her as a single tear slipped down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away before I responded.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Esa released her hold on me, then yawned before pulling back the blankets to slip inside. I kissed her cheek and told her goodnight. Moments later, Desmond walked into the room, so I got up from the edge of her bed and left to give them some privacy. Not to mention, I desperately needed a shower.

I walked down to his room and stripped out of my clothes, then turned on the shower. I knew Desmond would let himself in once he got here. I left a lot of my soap and other things from the many other times I had spent the night here.

I stepped under the showerhead to allow the hot water to knead the knots from my shoulders. I closed my eyes, reveling in the silence. A cool breeze brushed against my nipples as the shower door opened and closed. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was Desmond.

I turned to face him, then reached up to wrap my arms around his neck. He leaned down and scooped me up into his arms. The tip of his dick was pressing against my entrance. His glare burned into me, only causing me to go up in flames more for the feel of him.

“Please.” I pleaded.

Desmond leaned in and nipped my bottom lip with his teeth. Then plunged into me, delivering slow and deep strokes. His eyes never left mine like he needed this connection to survive. He needed more of me to fill in the places where today’s events tore holes in.

I tightened my hold around his neck while he continued to bounce me up and down over his dick. I placed kisses along the length of his neck, then bit his ear.

“Use me. I need you to use me.” I pleaded against his ear.

It was all he needed to hear before his strokes became more severe in every sense of the word. I couldn’t hold back my screams if I wanted to. I prayed Esa was asleep.

The slapping of our skin bounced around the bathroom, and my sweet pleas for more covered every surface in the room.

My orgasm had hit its peak as I squirted all over him.

My muscles felt lax as he followed me over, filling me until a mixture of our desire slid down the length of him and onto the shower floor.

Slowly, he removed himself from me and placed me gently on my feet. Then grabbed my washcloth to wash myself down, then him. Once we were certain we were clean, we got out of the shower and dried off. We slipped between his sheets together, my front to his, still naked.

“I meant what I said in the garage. I need to lay up in it, baby.”

I nodded and wrapped my left leg around his waist so he could fit between my thighs. Then my arms were around his neck. I placed a lingering kiss against his lips as he slid back into me, stealing my breath. My eyes closed briefly, then opened to see him staring intently at me.

What I looked back at me shocked me for a moment. It was clear as day, love. I closed my eyes because I had to be seeing things. I wouldn’t believe it until those words left his lips. I needed more than just a feeling.

All night, he held me tightly until we fell asleep in this position. I had never done this, but for him, I would do anything.

The Grant Meeting

It had been almost two weeks since the big showdown with Veronica’s parents, and Desmond hadn’t talked about the moment since.

I assumed he just wanted to move on. I could understand where he was coming from, but things like that always come back to haunt you in the most inconvenient ways if you don’t address them.

I had expressed those same sentiments to him, but he just asked me to leave it alone. I didn’t need to be asked twice, so I left the subject where it was, in an invisible closet, as if the moment never happened.

Since I had gotten a date for my interview with the hospital grant committee, Desmond had been going over possible questions with me, so I was prepared to kick ass.

I even sat down to come up with a list of things that could help the school.

After the fire, it refueled my purpose and made me realize how important it was for these kids to have a place to go.

Even the situation with Veronica’s parents showed me we needed to have services for the grown people left behind, too.

So it left many things unspoken because those kinds of deaths were untimely. It was why many Black women were seeking doulas and more knowledge of their rights during childbirth. If we had more people advocating for us in the spaces, things would be better.

I drove separately from Desmond to the hospital today because he still had to work, but he wanted to make sure he was there for me. If only he knew how special that was to me. The pressure I felt to go in here and not ruin this for all the kids and people who needed Little Angels Academy.

It was a lot of pressure to put on just my shoulders, but it was one I was willing to carry with God’s help. This needed to work out. The entire way up to the floor in the hospital where my meeting was to be held, I paced.

Desmond was leaning against the wall in the elevator with a smirk.

“Why are you smiling like that?” I asked.

“Nothing at all. I was just wondering if you needed me to take you to the room upstairs to calm you down?” he asked with a smirk.

If we had enough time, I would have gladly taken him up on his offer.

I groaned and walked over to where he was standing to wrap my arms around his waist. His arms automatically enveloped me, providing a sense of security and warmth.

Desmond leaned down to place a kiss against my forehead.

Then dropped his free hand to grip my ass.

I couldn’t help but giggle. I knew he was trying to distract me from the inevitable.

“I’m going to have to pass this time, Dr. Wilder.” I cracked.

He chuckled along with me until the elevator dinged, letting us know we had made it. We walked out of the elevator hand in hand until we stood outside the door of the awaiting board members.

I turned to face Desmond. “You got this, Boss lady. Now go in there and show them your heart. I know you’re walking out of here with that grant. You need to know it as well.”

I nodded and straightened out my blazer.

“You’re right. I need to show them I run shit.”

He smirked and shook his head. “Exactly.”

I giggled, then turned to take a deep breath before entering the room.

The boardroom was cooler than I expected. Clean lines, polished wood, glass water pitchers on the table—like success had a scent, and this room wore it as cologne.

Desmond walked me in but stood back once I reached the head of the table. I knew he’d be watching—quiet, grounded, ready to catch me if I stumbled. But I wouldn’t.

Not today.

A woman in a burgundy blazer nodded at me from the center seat. “Ms. Sinclair, welcome. Please, have a seat.”

I sat, spine straight. “Thank you. I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

A man with silver hair leaned forward, glancing at a folder in front of him. “We’ve reviewed your application for Little Angels Academy. I understand you’ve been operating for eight years?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “We opened the doors in honor of my mother, Angel, who passed during childbirth. The Academy is a grief-informed learning environment for children who’ve lost their mothers during or shortly after delivery.

We blend trauma-informed teaching, counseling, and community connection into a curriculum that centers emotional healing just as much as academics. ”

There was a pause. One woman lowered her pen. I kept going.

“We currently serve thirty-five children full-time, with a growing waitlist. Our model has proven effective in helping children regulate emotion, build trust, and process loss in age-appropriate ways.”

Another man nodded. “And the fire? What was the extent of the damage?”

“Contained to the east wing—primarily one classroom and a shared resource space. Thankfully, no one was hurt, and we’ve continued programming in temporary locations. Repairs are underway, but this grant would allow us to go beyond just replacing drywall.”

I leaned forward slightly.

“We’re asking for funding to replace damaged furniture, update outdated technology, stock trauma-informed classroom tools, and cover teacher salaries for expansion.

We have families waiting. Children who need us now.

Not after the next budget cycle. Not to mention, we want to make these services available to the parents and significant others left behind as well. ”

The woman in the burgundy blazer tapped her pen thoughtfully.

“And what makes your academy different, Miss Sinclair?”

I glanced at Desmond—just briefly. Just enough.

“Because we don’t treat grief like something to move on from. We treat it like something to move through . Little Angel’s is a place where kids can say, ‘My mommy died,’ and not be pitied or ignored—but supported. Loved. Seen.”

Silence settled—the good kind.

The kind that made them think about it long after I stopped speaking.

When the meeting ended, hands were shaken again. I stood tall—professional, but proud.

And when I walked out, Desmond was still there.

Waiting.

He didn’t say anything—just lifted his hand and slid his fingers through mine.

That was enough.