Emilia lay awake long after Morgan fell asleep. Morgan’s dark hair was damp with sweat, and the relaxed curve of her body warmed Emilia’s, which hummed in contentment even as her mind roamed. She stared at the stars out the window. They’d arrived back sometime after 3 a.m. after situating Olive at the surgeon’s where Stevie had remained, and then she’d tumbled Morgan into bed before Morgan could ask her the questions she could see hovering around her lips. A breeze from the nearby ocean blew in through the open window and ruffled Morgan’s hair. She trailed her fingers through it and twisted a curl around her middle finger as her heart beat in her too tight chest.

She’d practiced today. Technically, of course, it had been Morgan’s case, and all she had done was assist, but she’d offered up differentials and assisted in a treatment plan, and she hadn’t panicked. She hadn’t shut down. Instead, she’d witnessed good medicine in practice and played a role in it, and the complicated roil of emotions that had brought to the surface now assaulted her from every quadrant.

“You’re awake,” said Morgan.

She hadn’t noticed Morgan’s breathing shift into wakefulness. “You shouldn’t be. You might get called in again.”

“I’ll be fine.” Morgan stroked the bare skin along Emilia’s hip. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No,” Emilia said.

“I thought you were Italian.”

“Only when I’m angry.”

The soft snore of a dog punctuated the calm quiet of the night.

“Do you love what you do?” she asked Morgan eventually.

“Professionally?”

“Yeah.”

“More than anything.”

Emilia considered the statement. “What does that feel like?”

“Frustrating? Satisfying? I can’t see myself doing anything else. I’ve never even wanted to do anything else.”

“Not even when you were a kid?”

“I had a brief pirate phase, but besides that, no. I wanted to be a vet.”

“I thought I knew what I wanted,” said Emilia. Morgan waited for her to continue. “I was so sure of it, you know? And then everything fell apart, and now I’m not even sure who I am, let alone what I want to do.”

Morgan remained silent.

“God, now I’m unloading on you and we hardly even know each other.” The last statement rang false in her ears, but she didn’t know how to correct it.

“Don’t apologize. You’ve had a lot happen, and you’re allowed to be confused.”

“Confused.” She repeated the word. “Yes.”

“Was coming along tonight too much?”

“No,” she said, needing the warmth of Morgan’s hand on her hip too badly for comfort. “I mean, maybe? It felt good to be in the field again. Although now I have professional jealousy about you to deal with, too. You’re a good doctor.”

Morgan didn’t laugh at her attempt at humor.