Emery [bxb]

133

The job is exhausting, and keeping house by myself while juggling my modelling career on the side and maintaining my rigorous workout schedule has me absolutely physically drained. Emery's not around to help and I haven't had the cheek to ask him to move back in with me. In addition, the things I've seen and the stories that landed people in the ER have me emotionally and psychologically scarred. I feel like I've aged five years in less than one year. This also means I can't sleep well, which perpetuates the vicious cycle.

I'm in the middle of flirting with a peds nurse one day when I feel like I'm going to pass out. She rushes me through the back employee entrance to the ER. Paramedics lift me out of the chair onto the stretcher, and the nurse leaves to get one of the ER doctors. Someone hooks me up to cardiac monitor and blood pressure cuff. The ER charge nurse arrives to take over monitoring vital signs and start an IV, and Emery flies to my side, grasping my hand.

"Moron," he chastises. "I told you this would happen. You work too hard and eat too little. Hey." Black spots obscure my vision. "Stay with me... You know I love you, right?"

"I need a maid," I chuckle faintly when I come to.

Emery is smiling fondly at me, squeezing my hand.

"You need to be properly smacked upside the head."

Emery promptly moves in, just brings a couple bags, slams and locks my door and tells me that if I say anything about it, he's putting coffee in my washing machine.