Wrong (Wrong 1)

Dr. Kallam shifts her gaze back to Luke and tells him, "One week," on her way out the door.

* * *

We're in Luke's car shortly after that. They wheeled me out in a wheelchair, which I would normally find embarrassing but it turns out I did twist my ankle pretty badly, so I'm not sure I would have been up for a long walk anyway.

"Wait, where are you taking me?" I ask when it's clear Luke is not driving in the direction of campus. It's Sunday. I always go home on Sundays.

"I'm taking you home," he replies testily.

I assume he means his home, but his attitude is not encouraging questions at this point, so I give in and lean back against the headrest and close my eyes. When I open them Luke has already parked the car and he's opening my door to help me out. He scoops me up as soon as the door is closed and carries me to the elevator. I'm in scrubs and an oversized Baldwin Memorial Hospital sweatshirt from Luke's office.

I'd freaked out when Luke had brought me the scrubs to wear home, realizing I must have been wearing Meredith's dress when I was brought in. I'd asked Luke if he'd returned the dress to Meredith and he'd said yes, that he'd called her to the hospital the second I was admitted to pick it up. He was being sarcastic, obviously, but his tone did not brook further conversation.

So here I am, in scrubs. My weekend bag is still upstairs, left there before the gala.

"I'll send for your things," he says as he sets me down on his bed after carrying me from the elevator.

Send for my things? Jesus, he's formal sometimes. "My bag is still here from yesterday," I say, pointing to it on the chair in the corner of the room. "Can you bring it to me, please?" I pull the thin hospital socks off and dig through my bag looking for comfy socks, coming up empty-handed. Luke hands me a pair of his giant tube socks and I grin as I pull them on. Luke's the best. Why was I being such an emotional bitch yesterday?

I should apologize, but when I look up, he's gone.

I riffle through my bag. I have clean clothes, but that makes me realize I want a shower. I slide my legs over the side of the bed and and I'm pulling the scrub top off when Luke reappears with a glass of orange juice.

"Sophie, sit down," he says, handing me the orange juice and directing me to drink it.

"I wanted to take a shower."

"Fine, together," he tells me, pulling the top over my head. Then he scrubs me down and washes my hair without copping one feel.

"I’m sore all over," I complain.

"You can have two Tylenol," he says, settling me on the couch in the great room.

"Two Tylenol?" I scoff. "I'm dating a doctor and I can't even have the good narcotics?"

He looks at me strangely before replying, "No."

He makes me eat something before Everly and Jeannie show up with a few things from my dorm and my cell phone. Luke says he has calls to make and leaves the three of us to talk without him.

"That man is crazy in love with you, Sophie," Jean says the moment her behind hits the couch, and then fills me in on everything I missed while unconscious.

Apparently I did tumble down the stairs. Mike called for help and Jean was about to get in the ambulance with me when Luke showed up. He tossed her his car keys with instructions for her to meet the ambulance at Baldwin and then hopped in the ambulance still in the tux from the benefit and made them bypass the closer hospital for his. I assume so he could call the shots, like he did this morning with Dr. Kallam.

After they leave I turn my phone on and see the texts from Luke. Worried about me, wondering where I went. The voicemails are worse. He never left the gala, he was walking around looking for me.

I stand up, wanting to find Luke. I walk slowly, finding the kitchen and den empty before moving to the center hallway and calling out for him. I know he didn't leave me here, but where is he?

He appears, coming from the hallway off the front door, the one that leads to the three empty bedrooms. "What are you doing?" I ask him, nodding toward the hallway he just came from with a tilt of my head.

"Thinking," he replies, and shrugs, hands in his pockets. He looks me in the eye then and pauses. "Anything you're thinking about?"

"Um, yeah. I wanted to apologize." Shit, this is hard. "I don't know why I assumed that you left with Gina. It was really childish of me to leave and not answer your call. I'm sorry."

He nods. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay. Anything else?"

"No." I shake my head.

He picks me up then and carries me to bed to rest. He lies next to me and rubs my back while I drift in and out.

* * *

There's no class on Monday. School is closed for Martin Luther King Day. The extra day off is great—I don't think I could have managed campus.

"I'm going to class today," I tell him Tuesday morning. "And you're going to work."

"Am I?" he asks, sipping a cup of coffee and leaning against the island in the kitchen.

"Yes." I take in his appearance. He is dressed for work, so he must be planning on going. "I'm sure women are ovulating and in need of your services."

"I'm sure," he responds dryly.

"You're not going to fight me about leaving the house today?"

"No, I'm going to drive you to class myself."

Huh, that was easier than I thought.

"You will stay on campus and I will pick you up at the end of the day." He pauses. "Got it?"

"Got it, big daddy."

"Cute. Are you ready to leave?"

He drops me off at the door of the Hymer building and picks me up at the campus library at the end of the day.

He opens the passenger door of an SUV and I pause, staring at the car. It's a huge Land Rover. "You bought a new car today?" I question as I slide in. He closes the door and walks around to the driver's side.

"I did."

"Is this supposed to make me feel safer than the Mercedes?"

He glances at me. "No, not particularly."

"You just decided today was the day for a new car?" I ask.

"The Mercedes wasn't very practical."

Practical? For what? "Did you save it for me?" I tease.

"Do you want to be driving a two-seater car, Sophie?" He looks like this concerns him.