"No, actually there's something kind of comforting in being around the hospital all the time," I admitted. "Is that weird for you?"
"No, actually it's pretty understandable." She smiled. "I mean it's not like you're trying to replace her or something."
"No, not at all," I said, shaking my head.
"What happened?" Alex asked. I hesitated because the memory was so overwhelming that I tended to keep it bottle up tightly, but the look in Alex's soft blue eyes made me feel like letting go.
"She was volunteering at a South Side women's clinic," I said. "And someone with a grudge against things they knew nothing about threw a Molotov cocktail through the front window, and then three more right after it. The same people had blocked the back exits, so there was no escape once the front area was on fire. Quinn and the staff tried to get the patients into rooms where they could block off the smoke and wait for the fire department, but the records room and lab both caught fire and it brought the roof down before firefighters could get to them."
"Were you there?" she asked quietly.
"No, I was in training then," I said, looking at my plate. "But we heard the call go out on the radio and I knew it was Quinn's clinic. One of the Battalion Chief's came and got me out of class and drove me to the hospital. They wouldn't let me go to the site. Quinn was still breathing, but they had her on a ventilator because she'd inhaled so much smoke. I sat with her for two days before they told her family that there was no hope and let them make the choice to disconnect the machines."
"That must have been horrible," Alex said. "How did you survive that decision?"
"I knew it was the right thing to do," I said sadly. "I knew that letting her go was better than keeping her in a state of limbo forever, but I didn't want to let her go. I think that was the worst day of my life."
"I can only imagine," Alex said. "I'm so sorry you and Quinn had to go through that."
I looked up at Alex as she spoke. It was the first time anyone had ever included Quinn's name in that statement. Everyone had always said they were sorry for me, for Quinn's family, for her patients, but no one had ever sad how sorry they were that she had to go through it, too.
"Thank you, Alex," I said, holding her gaze for a few seconds before looking away and saying, "Sorry, I'm dominating the conversation with my sad tale, aren't I?"
"No. I mean, yes, but it's perfectly okay," she replied. "I was just thinking about how interesting it is that we all have our stories and that you never know a person's story just by looking at them."
I nodded as I watched her trace a circle around the bottom of her wine glass with the tip of her finger. There was something very comforting about the motion, but the movement of her finger was also incredibly sensual. I could feel myself responding to the idea of her touch.
"What about you? What's your story?" I asked as I looked up from her finger and caught her staring at me.
"My story isn't very interesting." She laughed. "Just the usual: parents who didn't really like each other but stayed married for the sake of the ki
ds. Teenage heartbreak, from which I actually did recover, despite feeling like I never would. Failing out of college my first semester. You know, the usual."
"I can't imagine what idiot would have ever broken your heart," I said. "But I'm kind of glad he did."
"Eh, he was a jock with a chip on his shoulder, and I was too easily impressed by his cute smile." She laughed. "Teenagers are stupid sometimes."
As she said that, I sensed a slight shift in the tone of conversation before she laughed again and turned to look for the server.
"Should we get the check and go walk around a little?" she asked, changing the topic and indicating that any further questions were off-limits for now.
We pulled on our coats and went out on to the street where a light snow was falling making the city look clean and fresh. Alex took my arm as we walked down the street toward my truck and chatted about work and the way in which all of the residents were completely worn out by the shifts they were required to work. She talked about her classes and her exams, and as we waited for the light to change, I looked down at her and smiled at the snow blanketing her hair. I reached out to brush it away, but instead leaded forward and kissed her.
Her lips were cold but soft, and I felt the familiar rush of blood as she reached up and rested her mittened hands on my cheeks. I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her off the ground as passing cars honked their approval. Alex started laughing as I lowered her to the ground.
"I think we should take this show out of the public view, don't you agree, Mr. Connor?" She grinned.
"Where to?" I asked as I nodded in agreement.
"Well, it's either your place or mine." She shrugged and then added, "Where do you live, anyway?"
I debated about what to tell her, since I still lived in the house that Quinn and I had bought. I'd done all of the remodeling myself in the years after the fire and now it looked like something completely different than what it had back when we'd stared the overhaul.
"Over toward the West Side," I said, avoiding the issue altogether. If she continued to be a part of my life, I'd take her there and tell her about it, but right now I didn't feel like having to explain CSC on top of everything else.
"Well, then my place is closer!" she said as she reached down and scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it at me. The light flakes broke apart in mid air and showered us both with a dusting of snow making Alex laugh again.
Back at her place, we picked up where we'd left off almost as soon as we'd shed our coats. The feeling of Alex's body pressed against mine was almost more than I could bear as I cupped her round bottom with both hands and kissed her harder and deeper. I could feel her fingers running through my hair as she parted her lips and pushed her tongue into my mouth. The intensity of our kiss made my pulse race, and suddenly I felt light headed.