Page 142 of The Trouble With Us

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“Alright, Axl. Let’s take a look at what’s going on with you.” Dr. Sokolov glances over Axl’s file. “So, father is Gabriel Laurier, mother is Harlow Laurier.” He gives me a pointed look.

I wince. “That would be me.”

He arches a brow. “And you two are married?”

“Separated,” I say.

“Complicated,” Gabe says at the same time.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Okay, lying to Harrison about the maternity of my child wasn’t brilliant, but I panicked. Gabe, on the other hand, is basically cocking his leg and pissing all over me to mark his territory. And we were doing so good at keepingour feelings all tucked away in neat little boxes, safe, friendly. Apparently, a chance run-in with Dr. Sokolov is enough to send Gabe unraveling. I bite my lip and wonder if this will jeopardize his two years of sobriety.

“We live down the street from one another and co-parent. Gabe is there to cover nights when I have to work, and I have Axl during the day. We both attend appointments ...” and I am officially rambling. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Duly noted,” Harrison says. “I see here Axl had a somewhat rocky start.”

“He was a placenta percreta baby. It’s where the placenta attaches too deeply to the womb and grows out the other side, which ... of course, you will know because ... you’re a doctor.”

Harrison chuckles. “Yes, I am. So, the delivery went without a hitch?”

“The surgery was fine. Axl’s just fine. We’re all just fine.” Gabe pats Axl’s back impatiently. “He’s just here for a checkup.”

“I understand, Mr. Laurier. I like to familiarize myself with a patient’s background before I begin an examination.”

“Right. I just figured you’d be in a hurry to get us out of here.”

“Are you in a hurry, Mr. Laurier?” Harrison asks.

“Gabe, if you have a client, you can go,” I say softly. I don’t wanna poke the bear here, but I think this appointment is becoming less about Axl’s health plan and more about my husband’s fucking male posturing.Ex. Ex-husband.

Gabe’s gaze meets mine. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“Great.” I let out a long-suffering sigh. “Me either.”

Dr. Hottie takes a beat to glance between us and then nods. “Alright, let’s take a little look at Axl, shall we?”

“That is what we’re here for,” Gabe mutters.

“Axl? Do you mind if I have a quick listen to your chest?”

“Yisten, yisten.”

“Yeah, we’ll just take a listen to your heart go boom boom, and then we’re going to check your incision, okay?”

“Boom, boom, BOOM!” Axl squirms on Gabe’s lap to get down and reaches out for the doctor’s stethoscope.

“Oh no, honey. Don’t touch—”

“Nah, he’s okay,” the doctor says. “I tell you what, Axl. You let me listen to your heart first and then I’ll let you listen.”

“Boom boom,” he demands.

“Exactly,” Harrison says. “You want to hop up on the table here?”

He shakes his head emphatically. “No yaybool, no yaybool.”

“Why don’t I hold him while he’s on the table?” Without waiting for an answer, I scoop Axl up in my arms and rocket him to the examination table. I jump up and sit him in my lap.

The good doctor smiles as he steps toward me. “That works.”


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