Help me, won`t you?

Chapter 9: The Healer’s Return

Knowing that Igor was worried about me was a bittersweet comfort. Can you feel love through miles of digital signals and late-night messages? I think so. Being in Munich was becoming a slow torture. These seminars, these "expert" panels—they offered nothing new. I was a top surgeon back home; I was wasting time here while my most important patient needed my support.

A month had passed, but it felt like a decade. I realized then that I wasn't cut out for a life of wandering or career-climbing in foreign lands. My life, my hospital, my Igor—that was where I belonged. I started spiraling. What excuse could I use to leave? Family emergency? My cat died? I don't even have a cat.

I called my best friend, Lera. "Hi, honey. Miss me already?" Lera’s voice was teasing. "Lera, I want to go home. I can't stay here another minute." "Is there a specific... muscular reason for this sudden homesickness?" "You know why. How is he? Tell me as a doctor, not a friend."

Lera’s tone shifted. "Psychologically? He’s great. No depression, no aggression. But physically, Lena... you need to come home. His current doctor is doing the bare minimum. He barely checks in once every three days. The progress has stalled."

I felt a surge of cold fury. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? And Igor? He tells me everything is fine!" "He’s trying to be strong for you, Lena. Don't cry. He’s a fighter. But if your gut says move, then move."

That was all I needed. I hung up and started throwing clothes into my suitcase like a whirlwind. I booked a flight, gathered my papers, and ran out of the room, nearly knocking Ivan over in the hallway. "Elena? Where are you going in such a rush? I wanted to grab coffee." "I have to go home, Ivan. Emergency." "Is it serious? Let me help."

He followed me to the conference hall. I didn't hide the truth. I walked in, interrupted the meeting, and told them that a veteran under my care was being neglected and I refused to let his recovery fail. The organizers looked at me with surprise, then nodded. "A dedicated doctor. We understand. Just send us the case files later—it sounds like a fascinating study. Good luck."

I didn't even say a proper goodbye to Ivan. I didn't care. I made it to the airport, flew home with a heavy heart, and went straight from the taxi to the hospital. It was 8 PM. I dumped my bags in my office, threw on my white coat, and marched toward Igor’s ward.

As I approached, I heard his voice—sharp, angry, and full of pain. "Why the hell do my legs feel worse than they did a month ago?" "Calm down," another voice—Sergey, my replacement—replied lazily. "These things happen. Maybe you aren't pushing yourself in the gym."

I threw the door open. "Or maybe you aren't doing your damn job!" Sergey froze. "Lena? What are you doing here?" "It doesn't matter what I'm doing here! What matters is that you're fired from this case. Get the files, get out, and don't let me see your face near my patients again."

Once the door slammed shut behind him, I stood there, trembling. I was terrified to look at Igor. I felt like I had failed him. "Forgive me..." I whispered. "Don't," Igor said, his voice instantly softening. "You’re not to blame. Come here. I’ve missed you so much."

I sat on the edge of his bed, and he pulled me into an embrace so tight I thought my ribs might crack. We stayed like that for an hour, talking, whispering, just breathing each other in. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep right there, exhausted from the flight.

I woke up at 5 AM to the feeling of a warm hand on my waist and a soft kiss on my neck. "Good morning, darling," Igor whispered. "Good morning," I murmured, pressing back against him. The heat of his body was intoxicating. I felt his arousal against my hip, and a low fire ignited in my belly. "Lena, stop me now," he groaned, his hand sliding up to cup my breast. "If we don't stop, I’m going to lose control. I’ve wanted you for so long."

I looked at the clock. We had time. And I had no desire to stop. I stood up, locked the door, and slowly began to undress. I saw the hunger in his eyes as I dropped my blouse, then my trousers. When I climbed back onto the bed, I straddled him, my heart racing. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.

Our first kiss was a slow burn that quickly turned into a wildfire. I moved my lips to his neck, his chest, feeling his hands massage my hips. When he unhooked my bra and touched my skin, a soft gasp escaped me. I was desperate for him. I moved down, freeing him from his boxers, and heard his breath hitch. "Lena... I won't last long if you do that. Please... I need you inside me."

I didn't hesitate. I lowered myself onto him, gasping as he filled me. "God, you’re so warm... so tight," he choked out. "Don't rush... it's been a long time." "For me too," I whispered, beginning to move.

The friction, the heat, the sheer intimacy of being with him after so much longing was overwhelming. I moved slowly at first, letting our bodies sync, then increased the pace. I reached back, my hand finding him, fueling the fire. A wave of pleasure crashed over me—the most intense orgasm of my life—and moments later, Igor followed me into the abyss, calling my name.

We lay there, tangled together, our breath ragged. "I was so afraid," Igor whispered, stroking my hair. "Afraid I couldn't satisfy you like this. That I’d fail you because of my legs." "Don't ever say that," I said, kissing his chest. "That was perfect."

As I started to get up to clean ourselves, Igor took my hand. His eyes were full of a terrifyingly beautiful vulnerability. "Lena... marry me."

My heart stopped. I wanted to scream "Yes!" and dance through the hallways. Но I had to be the doctor first. "Oh, Igor... nothing would make me happier. But not yet. Let’s get you on your feet first. I want you to walk me down that aisle yourself. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m falling in love with you more every second."

I gave him one last, lingering kiss and stood up to face the day. My man was back. And this time, I was going to make sure he stayed.