A/N: Sorry! Sorry! I know I haven't updated in almost a month, but this month FLEW by - I still can't get over that it's almost September. Anyway, this one is a semi-short chapter and all Zoe's POV, but I swear the next one will have a healthy dose of Wade's :)

ZPOV

I wanted to act like there wasn't palpable energy between him and I when we were together, even more so when we were alone. I wanted to imagine that I hadn't wanted him to kiss me at the hospital or on the bench, or at the creek, and that I hadn't been disappointed when he didn't. I was realizing that while it wasn't easy to forget Wade in New York, the distance had made it easier to ignore how magnetic we were. But when we were this close, spending so much time together, it was difficult to separate the Wade I'd been with for half a year, with the Wade that had lied to my face over and for weeks.

The five minute drive was a quiet one. Wade looked like he was deep in thought, or just focusing too hard on a completely empty road. I was trying to regroup and get back into work mode.

He pulled into the parking lot and we made our way back inside the hospital, without saying a word.

"Well I'm gonna go check on my dad," he finally said gesturing toward the hall Earl's room was on.

"Okay, I'm gonna go check in with the staff. I'll see you in a bit."

"Sounds good doc."

We parted ways and I wondered what had gotten into him. Less than an hour ago we were goofing off around in the water and now he was completely stoic.

Whatever. I couldn't worry about that whole thing right now. I headed to the nursing station and checked in with a couple of staff I'd worked with on Earl's case to get an update. One of the nurses, Mindy, had said she'd been in there less than half an hour ago and he was doing great – better than even patients that had gone in for heart surgery with otherwise healthy systems – aka not alcoholics. His pulse was fluctuating between normal and just a bit slow, but I'd take it as long as it continued to swing back into the normal range.

I headed for the small office where I'd made a fortress of paperwork and books that I'd brought from New York to sift through. I sat down and took a deep breath. I could focus; I didn't need to think about Wade, or how much fun the afternoon had been, or how close we'd come to kissing – yet again.

It wasn't long after I'd sufficiently buried myself in case studies about Earl's procedure to buff up my report to the Chief, when Dr. Jackson knocked on the wall beside my open door. "Dr. Hart?"

I looked up and smiled. "Hi. How's it going?"

"Oh, just fine. Yourself?"

"Doing well, catching up on some work."

"Well I don't mean to disturb you, it's just your father mentioned you didn't have much experience with transplants and I thought that today might just be a lucky day for two people at the hospital. One of our kids that's been on the transplant list for a new heart for a couple of months just got one. We'll be prepping him for surgery in a couple hours and I wanted to see if you'd like to observe."

Of course my dad with chat up the staff about my weaknesses. It was nothing malicious, at least I chose to believe it wasn't. He just wanted me to be the best, and that meant as much exposure to as many heart procedures as possible.

I tore a slip of paper from my notebook and used it as a bookmark to save my place in the large volume I'd been reading. "That would be great."

"Wonderful," he smiled. "Would you like to meet the patient?"

"Sure," I agreed standing up. "Lead the way."

We headed down a couple different halls and I couldn't get over how big the hospital was for not being in a super-sized city.

"Kevin," Dr. Jackson announced as we walked into a room where a kid that couldn't have been older than 14 or 15 was laying, pale and visibly weak. His mother was sitting in a chair beside him, and it seemed like we'd just walked in on a conversation.

"Hey," Kevin breathed heavily. "Dr. Jackson."

"Kevin, this is Dr. Zoe Hart, she's a heart surgeon visiting from New York City."

At the words New York City, his eyes seemed to widen and he smiled. "Nice to... meet you."

I smiled, looking at him. "Great to meet you. I hear you got some good news today."

"You have no idea," his mother sighed. "We're thrilled. He's been on the list for almost two months."

"I'm glad to hear that it came through," I reiterated.

"So," Kevin breathed. "You're really from... New York?"

I nodded, moving closer to him. "Yep, born and raised."

"I want to... go..." he took a few ragged breaths and his mother finished the sentence for him.

"When he graduates high school, he wants to go to Pearson's School of Design."

He nodded a little. "I want to be... Tim Gunn, but a designer... too."

I laughed. "I don't blame you. I'd love to be Tim Gunn."

"Yea," he smiled. "I like fashion, and... judging people. So maybe... a less nice version of him," he said with a soft chuckle.

I laughed harder and nodded. "An original. Tim Gunn would definitely approve."

"You know," Kevin's mother said, turning to look at me then Dr. Jackson. "I'd like to speak with you a little more about the surgery Dr. Jackson. Maybe we could step outside for a few minutes and let these two chat?"

"Of course," he agreed, stepping out of the way so she could walk out the door first.

I took the seat she'd been in, and Kevin and I wound up talking for awhile. I made sure that I talked more when he seemed to be struggling, and glanced at his monitors periodically out of the corner of one eye. We talked about New York, about fashion, about Project Runway and America's Next Top Model. He told me about struggling through high school being straight but so into fashion, and women's fashion at that. I was surprised and felt honored that he was so open with me, a virtual stranger.

We'd been talking for so long that I hadn't noticed when his mother came into the room. "I think they'll be getting ready to do the surgery soon," she said, just after he explained that he hoped that he'd get his first girlfriend once he had a new heart. I assured him that he would, and that he was a great catch. What girl wouldn't want a guy that willing watched Bravo and all the fashion shows with her?

"Oh, I'm sorry. Of course," I apologized, standing up. "I'll leave you guys to it," I told her, heading for the door.

"I'll... see you... after?" He asked. I walked around the foot of his bed to his other side and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Definitely. We need to continue our discussion over the best guest judge on Project Runway."

He smiled, returning the light touch, although I think it was the strongest he could muster. "Awesome."

I caught up with Dr. Jackson as he was talking with the anesthesiologist who would be attending to Kevin.

"Great kid, huh?" He beamed, sounding like a proud dad, as we walked down the hall towards Kevin's room. He'd wanted to give Kevin a pep talk before they put him under for the procedure.

"The best," I agreed. "Are you two related?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Not at all. But I've known him since the day he came in here and we found out that a transplant was the only option for him."

"Is it Cardiomyopathy?" I asked, knowing it was the most common reason someone his age would need such a drastic intervention.

He nodded. "His previous doctor thought it was a pulmonary issue because fluid got into his lungs. But after the second time it happened his mom started to wonder if there was something else wrong, so she brought him here."

"Great maternal instincts," I commented.

"In this day and age, not all parents are that aware of their child's nuances or willing to disagree with doctors."

No kidding.

"Alright, well I'm gonna head in there. We're in surgical room four today. I'll meet you there."

I nodded and got directions from a resident on where to go. I scrubbed up and felt my heart beat faster as I saw Kevin get wheeled in. It was odd, for multiple reasons. One, I wasn't used to being only an observer in a surgical room anymore. Normally, even with procedures I wasn't too familiar with, I was at least assisting. Secondly, I felt a bond with Kevin. Sure, my bedside manner had gotten a lot better in New York compared to what it was pre-Bluebell, but with the influx of patients and amount of surgeries we were expected to do, there wasn't time to sit around chatting with patients before they went under, and barely any in post-op. Definitely nothing to the extent of spending over two hours getting to know the patient's life and dreams.

And I was beginning to understand why being slightly detached was better. As I watched Dr. Jackson and his staff work, I realized I wasn't focused on their technical aspects of the procedure; I was solely thinking of how Kevin needed to make it through.

"His pulse is dropping doctor!" I heard someone shout, snapping me out of my own mind. "I saw Dr. Jackson's eyes look at the monitors. "Shit!"

The next few minutes were a scramble of the staff taking barking orders from Dr. Jackson and the clanging of metal equipment. I wanted to help, but I knew nothing about his case, outside of his diagnosis. And with the staff crowding Kevin's body, I knew one extra person would just get in the way.

And then it suddenly went quiet and the room echoed with the piercing sound of someone flatlining. But not just someone, Kevin.

Dr. Jackson ripped off his surgical mask and cap, shaking his head. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered. The room remained quiet until the same staff person that announced Kevin's pulse was dropping, spoke up.

"Doctor, we need you to call it."

He nodded, looking up at the clock hanging behind the glass in the adjoining room. "Time of death, 7:22PM."

My heart sank. I don't know why I felt so emotional over this. Sure we'd made a connection, but really we'd only talked for a couple hours. How much did I really know about him? Honestly, more than I'd ever known about a patient I'd seen in surgery – well maybe everyone but Earl.

I almost offered to be the one to break the news to his mom, but I recognized how inappropriate that would be.

All but two people filed out of operating room. I hung my head as I walked out of the OR, reeling from what I was feeling. I wasn't exactly Ms. Emotional, but this stung and I couldn't shake it.

The small group of us peeled off our gowns, caps, and masks before disbanding. I headed back in the direction I thought my temporary office was.

I had seen death before. It's kind of what you sign up for when you're a doctor. No matter how much you study, how hard you work, how well you stay on top of the latest procedures and techniques, death happens. But even knowing all of that, it never made it easier.

I think it was hitting me so hard because there was nothing I could do. Without reading his records thoroughly and getting input from other staff on his condition, I couldn't offer suggestions on what to do, or how to remedy the problem. All I could do was stand there like a first year resident, frozen as I watched helplessly as the surgical staff tried to save him.

I found myself getting lost and winding up in waiting room. Dash and a couple people around my parents age from Bluebell were still hanging around. I got the impression that Earl's surgery was the most exciting thing to happen to the town in awhile. Wade was talking with someone I couldn't identify since her back was to me and I didn't recognize her voice. He looked up and past her, and I offered up the best smile I could.

"Sorry, excuse me one second Barbara," he said holding up a finger. He got up and walked towards me.

"Doc, what's wrong?"

The the way he was looking at me, like he was really worried, caused me to drop whatever had been holding me back the past couple of days. I didn't care that there was a cluster of people from Bluebell around, and I allowed myself to let go. I closed the gap between us, reaching up to wind my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"Hey... hey," he whispered against the top of my head as his arms surrounded me. "I'm here. What happened?"

"I was given the opportunity to observe a kid getting a heart transplant, and he and I talked for a while beforehand, and...he didn't make it," I stumbled out quickly. I had no idea what was making me so weird. Maybe it was just the combination of Wade, of being back in Alabama... and now this.

"Jesus," was all he said as he held me tighter. I clung to him, feeling my body relax slightly from just being enveloped by his arms.

"There was nothing I could do. I felt so useless."

"You are far from useless doc."

"In the operating room, I was."

"Just because there was nothing you could do in there does not make you useless. Trust me. You've bandaged and stitched up enough of Bluebell to certify that," he murmured against my scalp, pressing a kiss on the top of my head.

As innocent as it was, it felt good to feel his lips again. We stood there, arms wrapped around each other for a few seconds before I felt him mumble into my hair.

"C'mon, let's go get some fresh air."

We detached and headed outside, him trailing just behind me. Once we got outside, he moved ahead and I followed him around the corner and towards a small grassy area surrounded by trees. By comparison to the hospitals in New York, there was a huge amount of grass and nature surrounding the hospital; I couldn't get over it.

I followed him to the edge of the grassy area and watched as he said down, leaning against a tree. I eyed him and the grass beside him. It looked damp, but what the hell, I was in scrubs that would get washed immediately after use anyway. I sat down inches from him, sharing the same tree trunk.

We sat there in complete silent for awhile. It was nice just being able to enjoy the quiet. I remembered how long it took me to adjust to not hearing sirens, honking, or just people yelling outside, when I first moved to Alabama. It was unnerving. I went to sleep with the radio or TV on every night for over a month. And now, now I understood how people found it calming. And it was, however with Wade inches from me, it was hard not to focus on how close we were. I tried sneaking glances at him, but every time I did, his head turned to look at me.

We were both staring towards the parking lot, watching as some people rushed in, and others walked. I had always found it fascinating how the definition of an emergency could vary so much between people. I was contemplating it as I watched a woman limp on her own towards the doors, when I felt Wade put his hand on top of mine that was placed between us.

I turned to look at him and flashed a small smile, which he returned. I took a chance and pulled my hand from his, closing the gap between us and leaning my head on his shoulder.

I was awful at gauging time in moments of silence, so five minutes or thirty minutes could have passed before either of us spoke up. All I knew was it felt familiar, in a good way, to be like this with him – even with the events that transpired in the spring.

"I know it's a few months late, but I'm sorry for that voicemail I left awhile ago," I apologized quietly. I remembered how tired I'd been when I'd called; alcohol as a truth serum had nothing on sleep deprivation.

"No harm doc. I'm sorry for the text."

I nodded against him. "It's okay. All in the past, right?" Please say no. The rational side of me knew I had no right to want him to still want me but I did.

He paused, and I felt him take a deep breath. "Yea, all in the past."

"Do you ever think about it though?" I asked after a minute had gone by.

"Think about what?"

"About what would have happened if I'd stayed."

In the quietness and with me so close, his deep breath was completely audible. "Yea, I've thought about it. What about you?"

"Yea, I have too," I admitted. "How does it play out in your head?"

He shrugged a little. "I guess we'd have continued on like we had been, having fun, yanno? I'd get rolling on the bar, you'd be doing your doctor thing. I guess maybe we might've started talking about putting all my stuff at your place, or yours at mine, a little more of a permanent thing... but other than that not much would have changed. We were happy, right?"

I smiled sadly and nodded against his shoulder again. "Really happy." I paused before adding. "So you thought about us moving in together?"

"I mean, maybe not like moving-moving, but starting to talk about it. I mean Lavon deserved to get rent from one of those spots."

"I paid rent," I laughed.

"Well then that settles that. I would have moved into the carriage house."

I continued to laugh a little and thought about what he said, what we were joking about. He thought about moving us forward, and pretty swiftly too.

"Enough about what I've thought about though. What about you? What's been going through your head when not cutting people open and fixing them?"

"Honestly?" I asked.

He nodded. "Until my little stunt, that was the best thing about us."

He was right. We were always 100% real with one another. But it was petrifying, opening up like this again. Part of it felt like second nature, once Wade and I had gotten in the groove of being a couple, it was weird to think of previous relationships where I'd been a closed off, cold fish. Wade made it easier to talk, to share, to let my guard down. "I've been asking myself how you could do what you did. We were in such a great place."

He nodded and I could feel himself tense. "It's the biggest regret of my life."

I couldn't disagree, so I waited a second for his words to sink in before I continued. "But I've also just though about how much I miss you, and how I wish I didn't."

"If it helps any, I still miss you every damn day."

I thought hearing him say words like that would make me feel better, would give me a sense of victory that I had gotten under his skin as much as he had gotten under mine. But to my amazement, it didn't make me feel better; it made me ache.

I lifted my head and turned slightly, looking up at his profile, studying the features I'd lusted for, then quicker then I would have ever guessed, fell in love with. I loved the way he made me feel, the way he treated me, the way he respected me. And then it hit me, the pain wasn't only from the lie, it was that he had cracked the very foundations of why I had fallen in love with him in the first place. He treated me like he had no respect for me, like he knew better. But wasn't that how I had treated him for the longest time? Like I knew what he needed, what was best for him and his future? Yes, he had lied, yes he had caused me pain that was insurmountable. But how could I fault him when both of us, on occasion, neglected giving each other mutual respect and assuming we knew what the other needed?

His head turned and he looked at me, biting his lower lip. My eyes were still locked on him and I smiled hesitantly. Even with all the hurt between us, when we were together like this, all of the crap seemed insignificant compared to all of the love that lingered. Looking at him, I realized that I had spent the entire day wondering why he hadn't kissed me, but for the first time I wondered why I hadn't kissed him.

I leaned forward a couple inches. He expression changed into a shy version of the lopsided grin that made my knees buckle, and fortunately I was sitting so the rubbery feeling was merely a reminder of the effect he had on me. His eyes scanned my face and I smiled hesitantly. My heart was pounding and I knew this was what I needed. I leaned forward still, brushing my lips against his and pulling back. If I had misread the situation, which was highly possible, I wanted him to have an out. When one of his hands moved to the side of my neck and I felt his lips push against mine decisively, I knew I hadn't been wrong. And this time there were no interruptions.

My body felt electrified. He pulled me into his lap, which was more comfortable than the original position I'd been in when we first kissed. As I settled against him, my arms made the familiar trek around his neck. One of his arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me closer. Feeling his body pressed fully against mine, even through layers and layers of clothing, made me feel alive for the first time in months. His fingertips slid just under the hem at the back of my shirt. Feeling his hands on my bare skin, I moaned into the kiss. At hearing the sound I made, I snapped out of the spell I fell under every time we kissed, and the realities of the situation – including the fact that we were at a hospital – hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Wade, stop," I panted as I pulled back. Both of our chests were heaving as we gasped for air.

I looked at him and for some reckless reason, I wanted to tell him I still cared for him. That he broke a piece of me and he was the only person that could fix it. I wanted us to be stronger than we were before, I wanted to get past all of the drama and anguish we'd gone through. But I couldn't say any of it. I'd made the choice to take the fellowship and now I was committed to it for over two and a half years.

His face twisted back into the smirk that turned my legs to liquid, and I was once again grateful to be sitting down.

"How're you feelin' doc," he teased, rubbing his thumb over my jaw.

I rolled my eyes, grinning and praying that he couldn't see the heat coming from my cheeks. "I don't know. How're you feeling?"

"Pretty damn good, actually."

I puffed out a laugh, unable to hold back the smile that was plastered on my face. "I should go check on Earl and get back to my case reports."

He nodded and yawned as I got up and brushed the grass off my butt.

"You haven't slept much since this happened, have you?" I asked after he'd stood up and we started heading back to the hospital's entrance.

"A few hours here and there. I try to sleep when Earl sleeps, but it turns out the chair is only more comfortable because it has better cushions. Like I mentioned, the seats in my car recline all the way though, so in the end it's an even split."

"Why don't you get some sleep at the hotel in my room?" I blurted out. When I paused to think about it though, it made sense. I was going to be here for God knows how long with paperwork. Plus I felt like I had been slack on monitoring how Earl was doing, so this would force me to do that.

"No, it's okay. I'm good here," he tried to argue.

"Wade you look like you're minutes from falling asleep on your feet. You said yourself, the chair you've been crashing on isn't that comfortable. Plus I need to stay here for awhile to do some work anyway. At least if you sleep in the room, it'll get some use," I justified as we walked through the hospital doors and turned down one of the halls. I tried to retrace my steps from my main hall to the room I'd been using and fortunately, after only making the wrong turn once, found it.

I turned into my temporary room and felt Wade following behind me. I grabbed my purse and pulled out one of the two rooms keys I had. I had the unfortunate habit of losing keys, so I always asked for two, even if it was just me in the room. "Here," I said, extending my hand with the key. "Take it."

He looked from my hand up to me and sighed. "Really Zoe, I'm okay."

I moved my hand up and down, fanning him with it. "Don't argue with me Wade. Just get a few hours and come back if that would make you feel better. But not sleeping isn't going to help anyone."

He looked down at the key again and puffed out a heavy burst of air. "Fine, but I'll be back in a couple hours to return this thing," he conceded, taking it from my hand. "And you'll call if anything comes up with Earl."

"Wade," I said sternly. He had to know that I would.

"I know," he said, letting out another exhale. "It's just -"

I nodded, putting my hand on his wrist. "I know. I'll call if anything comes up."

"Thanks," he replied with a small smile.

At the end of the day, Wade was an amazing guy. Not just because he refused to leave his dad alone over night while he recovered, or because he seemed more worried about everyone else and not the least bit concerned over his own well being. No, it was because of the way he could calm me down with a single look, how he hadn't pushed for anything between us despite the moments something could have easily happened; he had waited for me to make the first move and show that I was okay with it.

We headed back down the hall where we separated. He went to see Earl, and I headed back towards the room I had set up camp in. And as I turned and walked towards my temporary office, I knew that for better or worse, however stupid it may be, I was still in love with Wade Kinsella.