Claiming what's mine
1619 Words
(Kieran)
I watched Sloane from my office window as she walked across the parking lot toward the hospital entrance.
She looked tired. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was carrying her coffee like it was the only thing keeping her upright. But even exhausted, she was stunning.
And she was mine. She just didn't know it yet.
I'd wanted Sloane since the day I arrived at Seattle Grace six months ago. The moment I saw her in that conference room, presenting a complex surgical case with the kind of confidence most surgeons spend decades trying to achieve, I knew I had to have her.
But she was married. To Vaughn Reid, of all people.
I hated Vaughn. Not because he was competition, he wasn't. He was mediocre at best, lazy, arrogant, and completely undeserving of his position. But he had something I wanted.
Sloane.
So I waited. I watched. I learned everything about her. Her schedule, her favorite coffee order, the cases she took, the way she lit up when a surgery went well. I made myself indispensable to her career, praising her work publicly, giving her the best cases, making sure she knew I saw her value.
And I waited for Vaughn to screw up.
I knew he would. Men like him always did. They took good things for granted, got bored, went looking for excitement elsewhere. It was only a matter of time.
When I heard the rumors about him and the nurses, I didn't interfere. I let him dig his own grave. And when Sloane finally caught him, I was there. Ready to be exactly what she needed.
A friend. A protector. A way out.
Now, three days after she'd kicked Vaughn out, things were moving faster than I'd anticipated. And I wasn't complaining.
I left my office and headed down to the surgical floor. Sloane had a consultation this morning, and I wanted to check in. Make sure she was okay. Make sure Vaughn wasn't bothering her.
I found her in the hallway outside the OR, reviewing a chart. She looked up when she saw me and smiled.
"Morning," she said.
"Morning. How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine. Just ready to get this day over with."
"Vaughn hasn't tried to contact you again, has he?"
Her expression darkened. "He called from another number last night. I didn't answer."
Good. She was learning.
"If he keeps harassing you, let me know. I'll handle it."
She raised an eyebrow. "Handle it how?"
"However I need to."
There was a pause. She was studying me, trying to figure out if I was serious.
I was.
"Thank you," she said finally. "But I can handle Vaughn."
"I know you can. But you shouldn't have to."
She smiled again, smaller this time, and something in my chest tightened. Not in a bad way. In a way that made me want to pull her into my office, lock the door, and make sure she understood exactly who she belonged to now.
But I couldn't. Not yet. She was still legally married, still processing everything. I had to be patient.
Patience had never been my strong suit.
"I should get back to work," she said, closing the chart.
"Lunch today?" I asked.
She hesitated. "Kieran, people are already talking."
"Let them talk."
"It's not that simple."
"Yes, it is. You're getting divorced. You're allowed to have lunch with a colleague."
She bit her lip, considering. "Fine. But somewhere off campus. I don't want to deal with the stares."
"Done."
She walked away, and I watched her go. The way she moved, confident and controlled, made me want things I shouldn't want yet.
But I'd always been good at getting what I wanted. And Sloane was no exception.
I went back to my office and closed the door. I had work to do, but my mind was elsewhere. On Sloane. On Vaughn. On the situation I was carefully constructing.
Vaughn was predictable. He'd try to fight the divorce, try to make Sloane's life difficult, try to win her back with some pathetic display of remorse. And when that didn't work, he'd get angry. Violent, even.
I was counting on it.
Because the angrier Vaughn got, the more Sloane would need me. And the more she needed me, the easier it would be to make her mine.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found the one I was looking for. A private investigator I'd used before for delicate situations.
I typed out a message.
*I need everything on Dr. Vaughn Reid. Affairs, finances, mistakes at work, anything that can be used against him. I'll pay double your usual rate.*
The response came back quickly.
*Consider it done.*
I smiled and put my phone away.
Vaughn thought he could fight for Sloane? He had no idea what he was up against.
I wasn't just some rival trying to steal his wife. I was someone who got what I wanted, no matter the cost. And I wanted Sloane.
At noon, I met Sloane in the parking lot. She'd changed out of her scrubs and into jeans and a sweater. Casual. Beautiful.
"Where are we going?" she asked as she got into my car.
"There's a place about ten minutes away. Quiet. Good food."
She nodded and buckled her seatbelt.
We drove in comfortable silence. I could feel her looking at me every now and then, like she was trying to figure me out.
Good luck with that.
We arrived at a small Italian restaurant tucked away from the main roads. Private. Intimate. Exactly what I wanted.
Inside, the hostess greeted me by name. I'd been here before. Many times. Always alone. Always planning my next move.
"Your usual table, Dr. Ashford?"
"Yes. Thank you."
She led us to a corner booth in the back, away from the windows and other diners. Perfect.
Sloane slid into the booth, and I sat across from her. The waitress brought menus and water, then disappeared.
"You come here a lot?" Sloane asked, glancing around.
"When I need to think."
"About what?"
"Work. Life. Things I want."
Her eyes met mine. "And what do you want?"
I leaned forward, my voice low. "Right now? To make sure you're okay."
She looked away, her fingers tracing the edge of her water glass. "I'm fine. Really."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
"Sloane."
She looked back at me, and I saw it. The exhaustion. The anger. The hurt she was trying so hard to hide.
"He doesn't deserve you," I said.
"I know."
"Do you?"
She didn't answer.
The waitress came back, and we ordered. Pasta for her, steak for me. When the waitress left, I reached across the table and took Sloane's hand.
She didn't pull away.
"You're going to get through this," I said. "And when you do, you're going to realize you're better off without him."
"I already know I'm better off without him."
"Then why do you still look so sad?"
She pulled her hand back. "I'm not sad. I'm angry. There's a difference."
"Good. Angry is better than sad. Angry means you're done letting him control you."
"He never controlled me."
"Didn't he?"
She glared at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means Vaughn made you feel like you weren't enough. Like his cheating was somehow your fault because you worked too much. But it wasn't. It never was. He's the one who couldn't handle being married to someone more successful than him."
Her expression changed. Something shifted in her eyes.
"You're right," she said quietly.
"I know."
She smiled, small but genuine. "You're very sure of yourself, aren't you?"
"I have to be. It's the only way to survive in this world."
"Is that what you think? That life is just about surviving?"
"No. I think life is about taking what you want before someone else does."
She studied me for a long moment. "And what do you want, Kieran?"
I looked at her, really looked at her, and let the truth show in my eyes.
"You."
The word landed between us like a confession. She didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stared at me like she was trying to decide if I was serious.
I was.
"Kieran," she started, but I cut her off.
"I'm not asking you to make any decisions right now. I'm just telling you the truth. I want you, Sloane. I've wanted you since the day I met you. And I'm willing to wait as long as it takes for you to be ready."
She opened her mouth to respond, but the waitress came back with our food.
The moment was gone.
But the truth was out there now. And there was no taking it back.
We ate in silence, the tension between us thick but not uncomfortable. She kept glancing at me, like she was seeing me for the first time.
Good.
Let her see me. Let her realize that I was nothing like Vaughn. That I would give her everything he never could.
After lunch, I drove her back to the hospital. When we pulled into the parking lot, she turned to me.
"Thank you," she said. "For lunch. And for everything else."
"Anytime."
She got out of the car and walked toward the hospital entrance. I watched her go, my mind already working on the next step.
Sloane was mine. She just needed a little more time to realize it.
And I had all the time in the world.
Well, almost.
Because if Vaughn kept pushing, I might have to move things along faster than I'd planned.
And when I moved, I didn't leave anything to chance.
- Writer
