Yuri POV

February 19th, 2030

“Mrs Hansen, don’t worry,” I stress again for the 80 year old woman sitting primly on the edge of the exam table. “You don’t have diabetes.”

She looks unconvinced as her frown deepens. “Now hear me out, Doctor Kwon, I swear I get a little woozy when I don’t eat.”

I nod calmly. “So do I, it happens with some people. It doesn’t mean you have diabetes and it certainly doesn’t mean you need insulin shots.”

I flip her chart open and read through her metabolic panel again for the 100th time.

It’s still normal.

When I’m 80 I hope I’m in as good shape as she is.

“I’m looking at your fasting blood sugar right now and it is the picture of health. However, I would recommend a set eating schedule so you don’t miss a meal and feel lightheaded.”

“Are you sure I don’t need shots then, because old Rachel and Grace told me that when you feel faint your blood sugar is too high.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes and thin another smile.

Old Rachel and Grace have been offering advice to Sally for a long time.

Hence, she ends up with an appointment at my practice every other week.

Last month, it was mononucleosis because she had been feeling tired, now diabetes.

I’m hoping for an STD next.

I swear to God, I would give anything to listen to that conversation between the three of them.

“Mrs Hansen, honestly, I can’t find anything wrong with you. I don’t get to give news like this often so I’m glad I can give it to you.”

I tap my fingers on her chart to beat out the words, “You are perfectly healthy.”

I flip her chart closed and give her a final nod. “So, let’s get you off this table and on your way back home.”

With a firm grip I help her to the floor.

She doesn’t let me go right away, instead she takes my hand.

Her fingers squeeze lightly and then roll the wedding rings on my finger.

Her eyes take them in with a wistful smile. “You are a good doctor, Yuri...a good girl. I hope your husband knows how wonderful you are.”

I give her a cheeky grin, correcting her for the millionth time. “Thank you, my wife loves me very much.”

She pats my cheek. “Okay, dear. I’m glad.”

I lead her to the hallway and point toward the exit. “All right, Hani at the front desk will see you out. Take care and don’t let those old dogs over at the retirement community give you girls a hard time.”

She waves me off with a laugh. “We beat the pants off them every Friday night at the rummy tables.”

“I’m sure you do. Keep doing it.” I wink at her and turn toward my office.

I pause to drop off her patient folder.

One of my office assistants grabs it, and gives me a look.

“She’s good,” I note as I pull the pen from my lapel and confirm it’s closed.

“Ah, yeah, we figured. Should we start dissuading her from making appointments?” She creases the folder between nervous fingers. “Hani was saying that her insurance isn’t really paying out anymore on her appointments. They classified her as a hypochondriac.”

Frowning, I steal a glance at Sally’s departing figure as she slowly slips out of my practice. “No.” I sigh. “I would rather she scream about the big bad wolf and there be nothing, than for her to say something and no one believe her when there is something.”

“So, you don’t want us to slot priority for paying customers then?”

I arch my eyebrow in reply. “No.”

“Okay.” She hurriedly departs and I turn to my office, wondering what would provoke that kind of question.

Have I set the standard that money is of more value than people?

My chair creaks as I drop into it.

The mahogany desk before me is rich and red in the wispy sunlight from outside and I trace the edge of it, lost in my thoughts.

Turning, I stare out the window at the sprinkles of rain and the racing clouds.

Absently, I palm my notation recorder and slip the key into the ‘on’ position. “Sally Hansen. Chief complaint, weakness and dizziness after not eating for an extended period of time. Metabolic panels show fasting glucose at normal levels. Educated patient on regimented diets and reassured her that she is in good health.”

As I click it off, I hear a tap on my office door.

Swiveling toward the sound, the smiling face I see in the window makes my heart bound.

It’s Jessica.

I wave her in as I stand from my seat.

She will always have this affect on me, this bounding silly loping love that makes me rush to my feet like a southern gentleman.

“How is your day going?”

Before she answers, I use one hand to close the door and the other to cuff her lapel and kiss her lips.

To her credit, Jessica doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

She presses close until I feel raindrops under my hands from her walk to the office.

I break our kiss with concern. “What were you doing out in the rain? Are you okay?”

Jessica laughs lightly, her eyes as ruddy as my desk, swirling with mirth. “One question at a time, coat first though.”

I notice a small bouquet in one of her hands, and she sets it down before she shrugs out of her wet overcoat.

I hang it beside mine, letting the water drip on the carpet.

She invades the space in my arms again and I hum a small sound of approval when I feel her pregnant belly press into me.

My hands go to her medium ash brown curls and I rake them softly.

I forget my questions and just sway slowly with her.

Jessica doesn’t forget though and her voice floats up languidly from where her head rests on my shoulder. “I’m tired today. Krystal is kicking hard, so I can’t even cat nap. She is only calm around you, you know.”

“Yeah?” I laugh. “So you figured that a brisk walk in February in New York would be just the ticket to calm her?”

Jessica scoffs. “I said nothing about brisk. I waddle everywhere I go now.”

Jessica is nowhere near waddling and honestly, pregnancy has been kinder on her body frame than it is to most.

If it wasn’t for the second trimester swelling on the front of her, I wouldn’t be able to tell from any other angle.

And I study all of them rigorously.

I laugh at the idea of it.

Jessica swats me lightly, pulling back. “I feel like I’m the size of a house.”

“You aren’t, so stop.”

“Fine.”

I don’t have to look at her to tell she is pouting.

“How has your day been?” She shifts gears so easily.

That is one of the things I have always loved about her.

The effervescent flit of her temperament a testament to how forgiving and gentle she is.

I shrug, pulling her back to me. “It’s a day, you know? I just was asked if I should slot more lucrative patients over others.”

“Old Sally?”

“Yeah, among others,” I nod breathing deep the scent of Jessica's shampoo, and the whisper of Frederic Malle she wears.

“You said no, of course.” Jessica pulls back to look at me, her eyes searching my face for the answer she already knows. “Was it Hani?”

“Of course it was, and of course I did.” I clear my throat as I move back a fraction and Jessica disengages from me before slipping slowly into my cushioned guest chair.

I lean on the desk beside her, tapping my hands on my thighs idly. “I just worry that something I’m doing is giving off the air that money is the priority.”

Her hand snakes out to stop my nervous tick, and she entwines her fingers with mine. “Not at all.”

She smiles when I regard her. “They worry about you honey. They worry about how hard you work. They want you to get paid what you deserve. Hani talked to me about making you take a vacation.”

I snort a chuckle and tighten my hand on Jessica’s, “Well I would love to, but all these old Sally’s and their filthy insurance companies aren’t making it easy for me.”

Jessica rolls her eyes. “And, really, at the end of the month is half of what you are making now going to impact our lifestyle?”

Would it?

No, not at all.

However, the principle of the matter is that Jessica isn’t working and I want her to have nothing to worry about until after our daughter is born.

I also, secretly, don’t like to think that Jessica is the breadwinner in our marriage.

As a headlining Broadway actress, her paychecks are very hard to compete with.

Very, very hard.

“Hey?” Her soft lilting voice pulls me from my thoughts and I regard her solemnly. “I get it. You have something to prove. I’ll let it be, but you owe me something.”

I arch my brow in question.

“You owe me a day off tomorrow, so we can go to the obstetrician together.”

I nod, sketching a slow smile. “Already on the books, Hani cleared my appointments so fast I think the phone caught fire.”

We laugh.

There is a knock on the door and Hani peeks in.

When she sees Jessica she just about has a .

“Oh, Sica!” She bounds in, making me infinitely jealous of her energy.

What I wouldn’t give to be 23 again.

“Jesus you look beautiful! I can’t believe you’re here! When did you sneak in?”

My wife stands slowly and grins when she is wrapped in a bone crushing hug.

I admire the lines in her face as everything scrunches up and the two of them hug out their joy at seeing one another.

It makes my heart feel full to see it, to know that right now in this moment she is happy.

I know how hard it is for her to be alone so much, social butterfly that she is.

“You were talking to some patients. I didn’t want to bother you. And thank you.”

“You gonna stay for a while? Oh, Yul,” Hani directs her gaze to me as she pulls back from Jessica’s arms, “your 2 o’clock cancelled and the conference for the clinical at Saint James is rescheduled, so how about you call it a day after you examine Mrs. Walters.”

I glance at Jessica, gauging her reaction.

The amazing actress she is allows her to make her face as serene as a lake, and I don’t get anything.

I sigh. “I could do that, since I can pull up any notes I have to go over from home.”

Hani smiles far too widely at my wife and it makes me think there is collusion involved. “You could catch up with me Sica, hang out a while until Yul finishes up.”

Jessica clears and shifts on her feet, her hands coming to rest protectively over her stomach.

Seeing someone I love exercise such subconscious and primal impulses of maternal protection makes my emotions twinge.

“I would love to, but honestly I’m really tired. I’m just not sleeping. I wanted to just swing by and see the doctor. Get a quick checkup to be sure I’m doing okay.”

I don’t miss the veiled glance Jessica shoots my way.

If I didn’t know better I would think that she was flirting with me the way she said it.

“Oh, okay sweetie. I’m sorry. Rest up and talk to Yul. I’ll catch up with you later.” Hani fixes me with a very parental gaze, far too parental to be 12 years my junior and my employee. “Don’t stay after. Go right home after your appointment. I have to take off so, yeah, don’t try to pull a fast one.”

Again, I’m forced to use my eyebrow arch to instill fear.

It doesn’t seem to be working as of late.

“Okay, mother. I will,” I mock from my place and when she waves me off, closing the door behind her, I’m pretty sure I was just told what to do for the first time in quite some time.

I announce it to Jessica in the quiet of my office. “I have a 2nd mother, I think.”

“3rd.” She laughs. “I’ll always baby you as well.”

I snicker until I catalogue how tired she really does looks. “Angel, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, really. I just got lonely, decided to bring you some flowers.”

She gestures toward the package she had set down by the door and I sweep over to get it.

It is a bunching of daisies, my favorite.