Carson headed into the house as the sun rose over the horizon, closing the front door as quietly as he could behind him. Realistically, he knew that the girls slept like logs, and he could probably take a wooden spoon to every pot and pan in the kitchen and they wouldn't wake up.

But in this quiet hour, the stillness of the house, it just felt like he shouldn't disturb anything.

A throaty purr underscored the silence as he hung up his coat and Seamus, Lily's fat tabby, rubbed up against his leg. He smiled down at the squash-nosed boy and knelt to scratch behind his ears. The cat's eyes closed in euphoria as he leaned into the affection.

"Life's little pleasures, eh buddy?" Carson murmured and pushed to his feet.

As he made his way to the kitchen, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he prayed that it wasn't anyone from the ER asking questions. He just wanted to enjoy a green tea and go to sleep for a few hours.

Jane: Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'll stop texting you.

He drew his lower lip between his teeth, chewing it for a moment. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't known what to say to her in the middle of the night, either, and thankfully had been called away to check on a five-month-old baby who'd been brought in with a fever. He'd busied himself talking to the parents about teething, while playing with the sweet little guy, and tried to push mystery girl out of his head.

But now, in the dim morning light of the kitchen, there were no distractions. He filled the kettle and dumped some kibbles into Seamus' food bowl, but that took very little brain power.

Buzz. He sighed.

Jane: You should block my number.

He knew he should. He knew he should block the number, erase his conversations with her, and put her out of his head. He'd already crossed the line with this random girl by confessing his wife's affair, and it shouldn't have even gone that far.

And now he had a drunk girl, probably barely into her twenties, texting him about her fantasies in the middle of the night? It felt wrong. It was wrong.

Carson packed the infuser full before sticking it into his chipped white mug. It was the only intact one left from a set he and Gina had received as a wedding present.

He knew what he should do. So why wasn't he doing it already? He didn't know this girl. They'd been chatting for two days. He didn't owe her anything. And she most certainly didn't owe him anything.

Part of him felt badly for her, that she didn't seem to have anyone else to talk to. But that wasn't his responsibility. His responsibility was to his family. To his patients. Not to a depressed random girl. One who had her own husband, no less. She wasn't one of his patients, and he wasn't even that kind of doctor.

He stared at his phone as if he could will it to do what he knew he should do.

As if on cue, it buzzed.

Jane: Did you do it? Did you block my number?

As the kettle began to hiss and warm up, he picked up his phone. Some part of him had hoped that he didn't have to block her number, and that she would just stop texting him. But it seemed that she was determined to continue texting into the void.

Only it wasn't a void. And it wasn't nice to let her think so. It wasn't moral. As if any of this was moral.

No, I didn't, he sent, then added, Sorry I let you think that.

Little dots appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared, then disappeared. As the kettle began to burble, this dance happened on his messenger screen, the bubbles in the water just like the bubble on the screen. Anticipation built in him just as heat built in the kettle—but anticipation for what? He wasn't sure if he was anxious or excited.

Carson rubbed his forehead. He felt like a schoolkid, desperately waiting for an answer from his crush. Only when he was young enough to be in school, text messages weren't a thing...and she probably wasn't old enough to walk.

Mother of god, what am I doing? he thought, scrubbing his hands down his face. The kettle whistled, and he moved it from one element to the other, flicking off the heat. As he waited for the water to settle to the proper temperature for green tea, his phone finally buzzed.

Jane: Shit.

A laugh exploded from his throat, unbidden, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. All of that typing, and likely erasing, and that was what came out. There were no more little dots, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say.

He'd done his duty, hadn't he? He'd told her that he hadn't blocked her number, so that she knew that whatever she sent would actually be seen. Now the ball was in her court.

Except it wasn't, really. What was he expecting from her? An apology? The knot of guilt in his stomach spoke volumes of how complicit he was in this situation. He didn't deserve an apology from her... If anything, they should both be apologizing to their spouses.

That thought made him almost laugh again, considering he and Gina hadn't been in the same room together since her parents had come to dinner for New Year's and they'd put on the airs of 'perfect happy family.' Or at least, she'd put on the airs. He still loved his wife, and it had been wonderful to be able to be affectionate with her, even if it was just for show.

He hadn't missed the way she'd stiffened under each touch, each kiss atop her head, despite the warm smiles plastered across her face. He'd felt like he was dying inside, to feel her indecision, his very touch so alien to her that she hadn't known how to react.

Her false smiles had fooled her parents. Fooled their children. But they couldn't fool him.

He grabbed the kettle and poured the steaming water over his tea leaves, stirring the infuser around a little to leach flavour out of the leaves. The scent usually soothed him, but not that morning. He set a timer for two minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

He finally picked up his phone again. I didn't know what to say. You seemed to be too drunk for it to be wise for you to be texting anyone. So I thought I'd leave you alone until the morning... He paused, wondering if he should add more, or if she'd infer what the ellipsis meant. That he was giving her an out, that she could blame her text on the alcohol and that he'd ignored her so that she wouldn't embarrass herself further.

He hit send.

Jane: Yeah, it was a stupid drunk text.

He sighed with relief that she'd taken the bait, marvelling at how all-encompassing that relief was.

His timer went off, startling him, and he knocked his mug over, spilling hot tea across the counter to drip down onto the floor in steaming rivulets.

"No!" Carson hissed, jumping back to avoid the splash. He reached forward to snatch his phone away from an approaching lake, shoving it into his pocket before whipping around to grab the towel hanging from the oven handle.

He flung it on the counter and it quickly soaked through, but didn't stem the drips onto the floor. He tore a roll of paper towel from the holder above the sink and unrolled at least six sheets, tossing them down onto the floor to catch the waterfall.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he stared helplessly at the sopping towels, taking a step back and checking his screen.

Jane: So, can we forget I made an ass of myself and move on, Dr. Foreign Object?

As the excess tea began to drip into the seam between the stove and the counter, Carson shoved his phone back into his pocket and lunged forward to take care of his mess.

And that's the end of the excerpt! If you'd like to finish the story, it will be available on Kindle as of January 24th, 2022! Join me on Discord for updates and sneak peeks and freebies at emilyshurricane.carrd.co. <3