The ER's Newest Dad

He’d thought of her? Dreamed of her? Possibly in the same moments she’d been thinking and dreaming of him?

“Quite casually Vann mentioned that the hospital where you worked was going to have a temporary opening in the emergency room when one of the doctors went on maternity leave. I jumped on it, knowing that just seeing you wasn’t going to be enough. The anticipation of seeing you again was eating me alive. You want to talk about silly, hopeless romantic?” He gave an ironic smirk. “When I saw you all I wanted was for you to drop everything and run across the ER, meet me halfway, and throw yourself into my arms.”

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, couldn’t quite believe her ears. “You wanted that?”

“I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you. And before you launch into a tirade about sex, I don’t just mean physically, Brielle. I mean you. When I lost you five years ago, I lost a part of myself, and I want that part back.”

Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, making hearing difficult, making thinking difficult. “What are you saying?”

“That my heart is yours.”

“And you want it back?”

“Asking for it back isn’t really what I’m trying to say.” He paused, sighed. “When I said we should get married the other night, I wasn’t thinking of Justice, or even you.”

“What were you thinking of?”

“Me,” he answered simply. “I was thinking of me.”

“You?”

“I wanted you always, Brielle. I wanted you to be mine for all time. Not because of our son but because I don’t want to be without you ever again. I need you.” He put his hands on her cheeks, stared straight into her eyes. “I love you, Brielle Winton. I always have. I always will.”

* * *

Ross waited for Brielle to speak, for her to say anything in response to the outpouring of his heart. Her lips parted then she seemed to lose strength and leaned on him, resting against his chest.

“Oh, Ross.”

He held her, kissing the top of her head, wondering what “Oh, Ross” meant.

“You don’t have to marry me, you know. I’m yours anyway. I always have been.”

“I know I don’t have to marry you, Brielle. But you’re not listening to what I’m saying. I want to marry you.”

“You’re just saying that because of Justice, because we got so emotional over his disappearance. We can just date. You can live here. We don’t have to marry to be a family.”

He took her hand, squeezed it. “My wanting to marry you has nothing to do with the stunt our son pulled today. I asked Vann for your hand in marriage yesterday, Brielle.”

Her jaw dropped. “You what?”

“You heard me.”

“What did he say?”

Ross gave a low laugh. “That it was about time and good luck with convincing you to say yes.”

A slow quivery smile curved her lips.

“So, tell me, Brielle, how does a man go about convincing the woman he loves that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her, that he wants her last name to be his last name, that he wants her children to be his children, to have his last name?”

Eyes wide and shining brightly, she shrugged. “I imagine he should just ask her and see what she says.”

“I suppose if he were smart he’d get down on one knee and do it right, wouldn’t he?”

“Or he could just ask.”

Putting his hand in his scrub pocket and placing his fingers around the box there, he dropped to one knee and took Brielle’s hand.