Deep End

A FEW YEARS LATER
Lukas Blomqvist, MD, PhD

HE HASN’T SEEN HER IN TWO DAYS. SPOTTING HER ON THE other side of the hospital cafeteria doesn’t count. Neither does waking up and finding her in his arms, eyes closed and breathing soft, too exhausted to even stir as he gets ready for his shift.

Sometimes, when she’s in deep sleep, a thoughtful little frown furls on her brow. Lukas cannot physically get out of bed until he has smoothed it over with his lips.

He used to want to prove to himself that he could thrive, even without her.

He has given up on that. Now he just wants her.

SCARLETT: I hate bones.

LUKAS: I hate bones, too.

SCARLETT: Why do you hate bones? Shouldn’t you hate brains?

LUKAS: Bones steal you away from me. Brains keep me entertained when you’re gone.

Carl XVI Gustaf starts rubbing against his shins the second he steps inside the kitchen, so Lukas glances at the magnetic board on the fridge.

Katten åt, it reads. The cat ate.

He crosses his arms. “I know she has already fed you.”

Meow.

“She told me. She wrote it right there, on the board.”

Meow.

“I’m not her. I will not be manipulated.”

Meoooow.

He sighs and opens the treats cupboards.

He finds it at work, during rounds, while patting the pockets of his white coat in search of a pen.

The note reads:

Whenever you open this, I’m probably thinking of you.

Occasionally, someone brings up his previous life.

“Do you really not miss swimming?”

“Not really, no.”

“Interesting. You know, there’s an orthopedics resident here who used to be an Olympian a few years ago. Like in . . . Paris, I want to say?”

Melbourne, Lukas corrects in his head.

“Diving, I think. The one in pairs? She and her partner got a bronze medal.”

Silver.

“Do you know of her?”

Lukas smiles. “I am familiar, yes.”

They compare their schedules as soon as they receive them. Some months are better than others.

SCARLETT: How many times do you think we’ll see each other in the next year?

LUKAS: At least one.

SCARLETT: Right, the wedding.

LUKAS: Two, if we can both make the rehearsal dinner and neither of us has to send a proxy.

SCARLETT: Sounds far-fetched. You must believe in fairy tales.

LUKAS: If trolls exist, anything can happen.

“This is Lukas, my best friend’s fiancé,” Pen says.

He cannot help a small smile.

“What?”

“The way you introduced me.” Not her own ex. Not her own friend. It seems to occur to Pen, too, and her eyes widen. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry. I promise I love you and stuff.”

“And stuff.”

“Come on. You know I would throw myself under a bus for you.”

“You absolutely would not.”

“Well . . . under a tricycle.”

“Better.”

“I would throw myself under a bus for Scarlett, though.”

He can certainly relate to that.

He’s listening to a talk on ependymomas when his phone vibrates.

SCARLETT: Premise: love being a doctor.

SCARLETT: Love corpse stuff.

SCARLETT: However.

SCARLETT: I cannot wait for next year when we’re slightly less busy and can, you know.

SCARLETT: See each other.

Scarlett, he thinks. You have no idea.

He slips into bed after 3:00 a.m. He usually waits until he’s warmed up to pull her closer. When she’s the one to roll into him, though, all bets are off.

“Oh my god,” she mumbles in his chest. “You actually exist. I thought I’d made up a whole Swedish fiancé.”

He smiles into her hair, heart too big and too full. “Go back to sleep.”

“Nooo. Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“You’re not going to be here when I wake up.”

He smiles against her temple. “Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember how I covered Art’s shift last week?”

“Oh, no. Are you covering another?”

“Nope. Art is covering mine. Tomorrow.”

“What?” She pulls back. Her tired, dark eyes blink open. “It can’t be.”

“It can.”

“Surely you must be on call.”

“Nope.”

“It’s impossible. Check again.”

He kisses her forehead. “Just sleep. I will be here when you wake up.”

“But . . . what are we going to do with all that time together?”

“I was hoping we’d sleep in. Then go at it like animals. Then maybe a quick break at the pool? Then back home, more animal stuff.”

“Oh my god, Lukas. What are we—a couple?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

A minute later she’s asleep. The entire universe is here, in his arms.