We all had our reasons for doing this kind of work. Josh’s compassion ran deeper than even he knew. He didn’t do it for the money or the glory. We had shitty hours and even shittier pay, but at the end of the day, Josh could go to bed knowing he had helped someone, and for him, there were few things more important than that.

The women’s locker room was decorated in cheap red and green decorations. Most of the lockers bore pictures of the nurses’ children or nieces and nephews. Mine was empty but for one black and white photo of Josh and me at Quinn’s mom’s house on Thanksgiving. I walked past the lockers and into the bathroom, pulling my scrub top over my head and tossing it into the red biohazard box.

In the mirror, I noticed dark spatters and smears on my face, and the blood that had bled through to my sports bra.

My eyes stared back at me, dull green with dark circles underneath. Pieces of blonde hair had fallen from my ponytail. The rest of the staff was a mess, too. We had all worked hard the last hour to save that boy, but sometimes, no matter what we did, we couldn’t fix everyone. Not even Josh.

I pulled off my scrub bottoms and then turned on the faucet, watching the sink turn red while I washed my face and arms. I dried off, feeling the weight of disappointment and heartbreak, knowing not even a fraction of what I was feeling could be compared to the loss felt by the boy’s mother.

I gripped the sink, choking out a cry. After that first sob, my entire body shook, and I gave myself five minutes to grieve for the boy I never knew. My watch counted down the minutes, and then I washed my face again and dressed in fresh scrubs, ready to do my best to help the next person in need.

Michaels pushed through the door, her eyes puffy and red. “Good work, Jacobs.”

“Thanks,” I said, unable to make eye contact. I walked past the room, the doors closed and family present. Just as the mother began to wail, I grabbed another chart and pushed through the double doors to the waiting room. “Charles?” I called and smiled as a woman pushed her elderly husband’s wheelchair toward me.

Josh was waiting for me after my shift. He stood, still in his navy-blue T-shirt with the white logo and navy-blue cargo pants, bundled in a matching puffy coat. He pulled his ball cap low over his eyes, huffing out a cloud of crisp air when I approached.

“Hey,” I said, crossing my arms over my middle. “How long have you been out here?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I had Quinn drop me after we clocked out. Risking sounding like a huge vag again, I didn’t want to be at the apartment alone.”

I slipped my arms under his, pressing my cheek against his chest. The strong scent of whiskey assaulted my nose. I leaned back. “How many?”

“Just one, after work. It wasn’t even my stash, it was Quinn’s.” He smiled and then shrugged when I didn’t respond. “It’s fucking cold out here.”

I pulled out my keys. “Let’s go home.”

Josh opened the driver side door for me and swept his arm toward the seat. I smiled, sat, and then leaned across the seat to open his door.

He sat, rubbing his gloves together while I attempted to start the car. It whirred three times but didn’t start.

“Shit,” I groaned, slapping my palms against the steering wheel.

“Try it again. She’s just cold. Don’t pump the gas. Let her turn over a few times and then stomp it to the floor.”

I did as Josh instructed, and the Dodge started right up, blasting icy air from the vents. I breathed out a sigh of relief and then turned to him, smiling. “Brilliant. You’re brilliant.”

Josh scrambled to turn off the fan and then rubbed his gloves on his thighs. “Home, baby! Shit, it’s cold!”

I giggled, shifting the car into gear, pulling out of the parking lot, and making my way to the highway. Traffic was ridiculous, with last-minute holiday travelers. The Dodge inched forward, and I shook my head. “It was bad enough that we both had to work on Christmas. I just wanna get home already.”

“At least the heater’s working,” Josh said, patting my knee and forcing a smile.

“It was a bad night,” I said.

Josh nodded, somber. “I’m sorry I yelled. And kicked over the instrument table. And stormed out.”

“Deb said she’s seen doctors do the same thing. Doctors who give a shit. Not Doc Rose,” I qualified.

Josh grinned at me. “You called him Doc Rose.”

“So? You call him Doc Rose.”

“As an insult. I’ve never heard you say it before.”

I shrugged. “It fits.”

“Do they still call me McPanties?”

“No. At least, not to my face.”

Josh chuckled and leaned back. “One more mile ‘til our exit. Sweet baby Jesus owes us a Christmas miracle.”

“It’s our first Christmas together,” I said, smiling at him.

“It’s our second Christmas together. Knowing now that we had to work, I’m patting my back for the first one.”

“You should. It was perfect.”

“I have something up my sleeve for this one, too. Don’t you worry, baby.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“You’ll see,” he said, his grin growing wider with every foot we rolled forward.

Twenty minutes later, we reached our exit, and I pulled off. It only took another ten to reach our apartment building, and I parked behind Josh’s Barracuda.

He hooked his arm around my neck, pulling my hair against his lips. “Are you excited?”

“I can tell that you are,” I teased, bumping him with my hip while he unlocked the door. He chased me up the stairs, and then we paused in the hallway, panting and smiling.

He unlocked our door and I pushed him in. After saying hello to our furbaby and giving him a Christmas treat, Josh walked over to the Christmas tree and plugged in the lights, standing to face me. The rest of the apartment was dark, adding to the magical feel.

“Is it lame that it isn’t technically Christmas anymore?” he asked.

“It’s still Christmas in California,” I said.

He looked at his watch. “No, no it’s not. But we can pretend.”

I flitted to the tree, sitting on the floor with my legs crossed. Josh sat next to me, handing me the first present. “You first.” He ruffled the dog’s hair, pure exhilaration in his eyes.

“Then you, right?”

“As you wish.”

I giggled while I tore open the orange paper with green spiders. “Spiders?” I asked.

“It’s one of the things on your list.” He winked, and my heart melted at how thoughtful he was, and how much effort he still put into fixing our memories.

I peeled back the paper to reveal a cardboard box stamped Amazon. “Books?” I asked. He didn’t answer, so I lifted off the top of the box, looking closer. There was another box, this one smaller. I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Just open it,” he said with a smile, taking a deep breath.

I opened one side and then pulled out clear plastic packaging. I looked up at him with a smile. “It’s a watch!”

“It’s not just a watch. Google says it’s the number one nurse’s watch. It has antimicrobial bands and backing, and the numbers and hands glow in the dark!”

“Ooh!” I said, squinting.

He grabbed it out of my hands and gave me another. “Next.”

I set it down and pulled one of his presents from under the tree. “Your turn.”

I wrinkled my nose and smiled as he tore open the paper, not nearly as daintily as I had. He held it up with a huge grin. “It’s a watch!”

I cackled. “Not just a watch. It’s a freaking Rolex!”

“Baby.” He shook his head. “It’s too much.”

“I saved. We’re good.”

He grabbed each side of my face and planted a firm kiss on my lips. “We really were made for each other. Open yours. I’m dying here.”

“This is fun, isn’t it?” I said, wiggling with anticipation. I picked up the box he gave me and opened it. I looked up at him, confused. “What is it?”