Fire between us

Andrea didn’t move.

She stood barefoot on the sun-warmed porch, her face pale despite the golden glow of the afternoon. The shawl wrapped around her shoulders billowed in the breeze. From the baby monitor clipped to her hip, a soft coo echoed—a sound that should have made her smile.

But her eyes were locked on Doc.

And they were not soft.

She stepped down the stairs, not toward him, but through him—storm surging in each step. “You left our children with strangers,” she hissed. “You left Anthony. You left Caterina.”

“Caterina is with the same nannies you approved,” he said, holding up both hands. “They’ve been with us for months—”

“And you just got on a plane.” Her voice cracked with disbelief. “To come find me.”

He took a slow step forward. “To bring you home. Andrea, I—”

“No.” Her voice was sharp, wounded. “You don’t get to play the hero. Not this time.”

The words landed hard between them, like stones dropped into deep water.

“I’m the one who was abandoned!” she snapped. “I gave birth alone. I screamed through a hemorrhage. I almost died, Doc. And while I’m trying to heal—trying to mother a newborn in a foreign country—you leave our young children behind so you can what? Sweep in like a movie scene?”

His face twisted in anguish. “I didn’t come to be a hero. I came because I was losing my mind not knowing if you were alive.”

“Then you should’ve thought about that before I had to run.” Her voice dropped, more wounded than angry now. “You don’t get to be desperate after the fact.”

“I was desperate. Every day. I hired teams. I searched countries. I tore through my savings and slept beside the cribs in the nursery because I didn’t know what else to hold onto.”

She stared at him, lips trembling.

“I didn’t know how to be okay without you,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I didn’t want our children to think you were the one who left them. So yes, I left. Because the only thing worse than you being gone… was not knowing if you were gone forever.”

Andrea faltered, just a fraction. But her fists stayed clenched.

“I get it,” she said after a long silence, the fire dimming to embers. “I do. You were scared. You love me. But you left them—Doc, I’ve been fighting to be a mother on two continents. And now I have three babies. One in daycare, one barely old enough to talk, the other barely survived birth.”

Her voice wobbled. “I needed you to stay put. For them. Even if you didn’t know where I was.”

Doc nodded slowly, pain visible in every line of his face. “I know I failed you. I know I failed them. But I’m here now. And I don’t want to leave again. Not without all of you.”

Andrea looked down at the monitor clipped to her hip. A quiet whimper turned into a newborn cry.

She wiped a tear from her cheek and turned toward the door.

Before stepping inside, she paused.

“She has your eyes,” she said softly. “That’s the first thing I noticed. The second was how terrified I was to fall in love again. But I did. The moment I held her. Just like I did with Anthony and Caterina.”

She turned her head just slightly toward him. “You want to fix this, Doc? Start by knowing I’m not just the woman you love. I’m the mother of your children. And you don’t abandon mothers.”

Then she was gone, inside the house. The screen door clicked shut behind her.

And Doc was left on the porch, shaking—realizing love might not be enough this time.