She shrugs. “Nurses talk. Abby knows all the admissions nurses. I’m friends with Abby. You should know by now, nothing that goes on within these walls is secret.”
“Whatever,” I say, pulling her along behind me into an empty procedure room. “Gina, we have to talk.”
She crosses her arms, eyeing me up and down. She’s studying me.
“Oh, my God,” she spits out. “Are you in love with your patient, Kyle?”
“What? No.”
“You are,” she says. “I knew you were taking pity on her. I may have even known you were smitten with her, but this? Kyle, you’re not thinking clearly. I mean, she walks dogs for a living.”
“What the fuck does it matter what she does? It doesn’t make her any less of a person, Gina.”
“What are you planning on doing, taking her and her baby home with you like strays?”
My blood starts to boil. “You and I are friends, Gina. We’ve been friends for a long time now, which is why I’m going to let that one slide. But you talk shit about her again and all bets are off.”
She walks around the procedure bed, putting it between us. “If you want to end this,” she says, pointing between us, “that’s fine. I like you, Kyle, but I’ll move on. But falling for a patient? Paying her bills? Bringing your friends and family in to befriend her? That’s crossing the line.”
I sit down on the stool, running a hand through my hair.
“I’m not in love with her,” I say, trying to sound convincing. To her or to myself, I’m not sure. “At first, I guess I was just taking pity on her. But the more time I spent with her . . .”
Gina walks to the door. “Just tread carefully, Kyle.”
“You won’t say anything to anyone about this, will you?”
She shakes her head. “I won’t tell Anders or Redman, if that’s what you mean. But I can’t guarantee they won’t find out. Nurses talk.”
I watch Gina walk through the door, leaving me alone in the room with my thoughts. There is nothing my supervisors can do to me if they found out about all of it, is there? Technically, I’m not doing anything wrong. Maybe, ethically, it’s wrong to pay her hospital bill. But how can it be the wrong thing to do, when it’s saving her from a lifetime of debt?
I took a vow, an oath to help people. How can I be faulted for sticking to it?
As I leave the procedure room, I glance down the hallway to see a couple of the girls sitting on the foot of Elizabeth’s bed as they all admire baby clothes.
I study her. I watch her talk with my friends. Friends who are now her friends. She fits in well with them. She fits in well with me.
Love? I don’t know. Is it possible to love someone you know so little about? Someone you’ve only seen for a few hours a day over the period of a few weeks? Someone who is pregnant with another man’s child?
She looks my way to catch me staring. Our eyes meet. She holds my stare like a tractor beam. An earthquake in New York couldn’t tear my eyes from hers. Damn. I wish I had some Jell-O. Because never have I ever fallen in love.
Not until right fucking now.
Chapter Twenty-eight
A few days later, I’m checking on Elizabeth when she catches me by surprise. “Did you know Skylar and Baylor were going to offer me jobs?”
I put down her chart and look up in wonder. “That I didn’t know about,” I tell her. “Really?”
She nods. “They both came by last night to bring me dinner. Skylar offered me a job as a hostess at Mitchell’s.”
“It would be a nice place to work,” I say. “It’s a great restaurant.”
“I’ll bet it is, based on the incredible food she’s brought me. But I can’t be a hostess. Not with a baby.”
“What about Baylor’s offer?”
“She says she needs an assistant. Said I could even bring the baby to work.” She shrugs. “I think she was just making the offer to be nice.”
I shake my head. “No, she wasn’t. Gavin is always saying how busy she is. She could use someone to keep everything in order.”
“I don’t know.” She twists her bracelet around her wrist.
“Hey, you don’t have to give her an answer today, right? It’s not like she’s needing to replace someone. I’m sure she’ll let you think about it.”
“That’s what she told me. They both did. They said I didn’t need to make a decision now since I couldn’t work for a while anyway.”
I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Four weeks minimum. That’s how much time she’ll need to recover from her surgery. Six would be even better. “Elizabeth, what are you going to do about paying your bills until you can work again? You’ll need to take time off.”
She laughs half-heartedly. “Time off from what? I don’t even have a job anymore.”
“I can help—”
“Stop.” She looks at me with distant eyes. “You aren’t giving me money, Kyle. I don’t take handouts.”
I look to the corner of her room where baby clothes are piled into the stroller. “You don’t take handouts from me?” I ask. “Or from men in general?”
She looks out the window. “I’ll be fine. Everyone has been more than generous. And I still have something I can sell.”
I’m not sure if she realizes, but as she says that, her thumb and forefinger come up to rub the ring finger on her left hand. Shit. Was she engaged? Married?
I want so much to ask her these things, but she’s already getting worked up. And like Charlie said, maybe she’ll see things differently after the baby comes.
“Okay,” I say. “But Elizabeth, if you find you need anything, not just now, but ever, all you have to do is ask.”
She shifts uncomfortably on the bed and her hand comes up to her belly. I look at her stomach, and through the thin fabric of her pajama top, I can see the baby moving.
“The baby is really kicking today,” she says. She looks up to see me studying her belly. “Do you . . . do you want to feel it?”
“Can I?”
She takes my hand and places it underneath hers. Then I feel a hand, foot, knee, or elbow poke me and I find it hard to keep my emotions intact. There is a person in there.
I know this. As a doctor, I know this. And almost daily, especially working in OB, I see babies coming into the world. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling overwhelming emotion at the thought of there being a little version of Elizabeth in there.
My other hand finds a place on her stomach and I sit on the bed next to her as we both feel her child kick and squirm inside of her.
“Pretty great, huh?” she asks, looking into my eyes.
I’ve touched her before. When I’ve put the monitor on her. When the baby had the hiccups. When she held me after Rosita died. But this, this is the most intimate moment we have shared. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her so badly it physically hurts me.
I glance at the open door to her room, weighing my options. But at this point, I’m not sure I even care if anyone sees. I want her to the very core of my soul. My job, ethics, the line I’m about to cross, they can all be damned as I lean in closer to her.
Then, suddenly, she looks up at me with wide eyes. Scared eyes. And I admonish myself for misreading the situation. Maybe she doesn’t want this. Maybe I was about to take advantage of her in the worst way.
“Kyle! I just felt a pop,” she says. “I think my water just broke.”
I pull my hands away as my heart starts racing. “Did you feel a gush?”
She squirms around. “Yeah, and it’s still coming. I feel like I’m wetting the bed.”
I get up off the bed. “Elizabeth, I need to look at the sheet under you to see if there’s any blood.”
She nods, scooting up a little so I can see the wetness. It’s clear. I’m thankful for that. I press the call button for the nurse just as the fetal monitor shows increased fetal heart tones.
Elizabeth looks terrified.
I grab her hand. “It’s going to be okay,” I tell he
r. “You’re just a few days from thirty-seven weeks.”
“I’m not ready,” she says, a tear running down her cheek.
I reach out and wipe it with my thumb. “I know you’re scared. I promise I’ll be there with you.” I take her face in my hands. “You’re going to be an incredible mother.”
“That’s not it,” she says, her chin quivering as she swallows hard. “I’m not ready.”
Not ready for what, I wonder? To have the baby? To leave the hospital? To leave me? To face her past?
I hear footsteps out in the hallway, and I remove my hands from her just as Abby appears in her doorway. “Do you need me, Dr. Stone?”
“Elizabeth’s water broke. Clear fluid. Prep her for surgery and page Dr. Redman.”
“Yes, Dr. Stone.”
Elizabeth cringes as her hands grasp her belly. I look at the monitor that confirms she’s having a contraction.
“Elizabeth, we need to do this now. We don’t want the placenta tearing as your cervix opens. I have to go get ready for the surgery. It’ll all be okay. You can do this.”
She nods, more tears streaming down her face. I want to hold her, comfort her, kiss the tears away. But more than that, I need to do my job so she and the baby are safe. And it takes everything I have to walk away from her.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Twenty minutes later, I enter the OR to see Elizabeth draped and ready. The epidural has been administered. The instruments are all in place. A nurse is adjusting her nasal cannula.
I follow the nurse’s movements as she clips the pulse-ox sensor onto the finger of Elizabeth’s left hand. My eyes come to a stop when I see that Elizabeth’s chunky bracelet has been removed to reveal the tattoo that was underneath it.
As Dr. Redman talks to Elizabeth, I take the opportunity to get a closer look at the tattoo. On the inside of her left wrist, there are intertwining hearts with a name scripted over them.
Grant.
I’ve never despised a name so much.
Grant, her husband or boyfriend. Grant, the father of her child.
“Dr. Stone?” one of the nurses says, bringing my attention to the fact that I’m standing at the wrong end of our patient.
I look down at Elizabeth to see that she’s caught me staring at her wrist. But she’s too scared to care. I put a huge smile on my face as I look into her eyes. She can’t see it beneath my mask, but that’s okay, I tell her everything I need to tell her with my stare. I don’t care if the nurses see it. I don’t even care if Dr. Redman does. In this moment, I need to reassure Elizabeth that everything will be okay.
I take my position opposite Dr. Redman and watch her slice into the woman I love.
Less than two minutes later, Dr. Redman instructs me to reach in and pull out the baby. I tell Elizabeth that she will feel some tugging and pulling. I put my hand under the baby, forming a cradle for her head so I can pull her out as the nurse pushes down on Elizabeth’s abdomen. The tiny body that emerges is gooey and messy and . . . absolutely perfect.
“Elizabeth, you have a daughter,” I tell her, my voice cracking with emotion.
I can’t begin to describe how I feel being the one to bring her baby into this world. To be the first one to hold her. See her. To instantly fall in love with her perfect little face, her tiny button nose, and her matted head of dark hair.
“It’s a girl?” she asks excitedly from behind the drape.
“It’s a girl.” I suction her mouth and hand her off to the nurse. “Give us a minute and we’ll bring her over.”
The baby takes her first breath and starts crying to the smiles of everyone in the room. Elizabeth cries out in happiness when she hears her daughter’s first sounds.
I lean over the drape to look at Elizabeth. “You did great, Mom.”
“Dr. Stone, when I’m done stitching up the uterus, would you care to close?” Dr. Redman asks me.
“Absolutely.”
I’m glad she asked. If I’m great at anything, I’m great at suturing. And I’m going to make sure I do my very best work.
After the nurse finishes the first APGAR test on the baby, she puts a tiny pink hat on her head and swaddles her tightly in a blanket. She walks the baby over to Elizabeth, holding her close to Elizabeth’s face so she can see, smell and kiss her new daughter.
It kills me that I can’t be on the other side of the drape to see every nuance of Elizabeth’s face as she sees her daughter for the very first time. I want to kiss her. Cry with her. Laugh with her. Celebrate with her. I’ve never wanted anything so badly before.
I can’t see her, but I can hear her.
“Oh, my gosh. Hi, baby girl,” she says. “You’re so beautiful.”
She cries and mumbles words of love to her daughter.
After a minute, the nurse tries to take the baby away.
“Wait!” Elizabeth says, prompting the nurse to put the baby next to her head again. “I swear I will always protect you.”
Those seven words resonate in my head. Protect her from what? From the world in general? Or protect her from someone in particular? Protect her from Grant.
My blood boils. Maybe she wasn’t kicked out or left by the baby’s father after all. Maybe she’s running from him.
Fuck.
I have so many questions I want to ask her. But she’s lying on the operating table, literally exposed to me right now. And she just had a baby. I need to give her time. She’ll be emotional. She’ll need to bond with the baby.
But then—then I’m going to get answers.
“We’ll wash her up and have our pediatric resident check her out,” the nurse tells her. “By the time you are back in your room, we’ll probably have her all ready for you.”
Another nurse puts an ID tag on Elizabeth’s wrist. “The baby has one just like it on her ankle. It’s to make sure we know who she belongs to.”
“Okay,” she says, kissing the baby’s head before the nurse takes her away.
Then Elizabeth falls asleep. It’s not unusual for that to happen. After the excitement, the epidural, the emotional drain of meeting your child for the first time. Dr. Redman finishes her job, and then I finish mine, taking extra time to make every stitch perfect.
But then my job is done. It’s not my job to take her back to her room. It’s not my job to be there when they bring her the baby. I’ve got other patients. Lots of other patients, thanks to Dr. Redman’s renewed confidence in my abilities.
And when I scrub out, all I can think about is how I’m going to get through the next few hours without seeing her. Seeing them.
~ ~ ~
The past four hours have felt like some of the longest of my life. Seconds were like minutes. Minutes like hours. Every hour felt like an eternity.
When I finally get a break from my other patients, I make my way to her room. I stand in the doorway, mesmerized by what I see.
Elizabeth has the baby propped up on a pillow on her lap. She unwraps her daughter’s blanket and silently counts every toe. She wraps her back up and then moves to her fingers. I smile, wondering how many times over the past hours she’s done the same thing.
She lovingly strokes the baby’s cheek, lulling her back to sleep.
Tears roll down Elizabeth’s face as she admires her daughter.
I have to swallow my emotions as I watch the love emanating from her.
I wondered. For weeks now, it has seemed like Elizabeth was in denial. She never wanted to talk about the baby. Never wanted to plan for it. Sometimes I wondered if she really even wanted it. But now that I see them together, I wonder if she was just scared to become a mom. A single mom, no less.
My pager beeps, alerting Elizabeth to my presence in her doorway. I make sure the page is not emergent before going in.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks.
“That you were having a girl?” I say, walking to her bedside.
She shakes her head, more tears spilling from her eyes. “That I would fall in love with
her,” she says. “Why did I ever think I didn’t want this?” She brushes her thumb across the soft skin of her daughter’s cheek. “I was made to be her mom.”
I smile down at the gorgeous sleeping baby. The baby I helped bring into this world. I can’t help wanting to hold her. Claim her as mine. Just like I want to claim her mother.
I see Elizabeth’s eyes start to close with exhaustion.
“You need your rest,” I say. “You should sleep whenever she does.”
Her eyes pop open. “But all I want to do is look at her.”
I pull the bassinet around next to Elizabeth’s bed. “We’ll put her right here. You can stare at her all you want.”
She nods, refusing to take her eyes off her daughter. But then she looks up at me. “Do you . . . want to hold her?”
“More than you can imagine,” I say, my voice strained with need.
She smiles brightly as she gathers up the baby to hand over to me.
I situate her in my arms and then lean down to smell her, closing my eyes as I take in the unmistakable scent of baby.
“You know, I was the first one to ever hold her,” I say. “I was the one who pulled her out of you.”
Elizabeth’s eyes shoot to mine. “Really? They let you do the C-Section?” She looks embarrassed. “You had your hands inside me? Oh, my God. That’s incredible. Sometimes I forget you’re a real doctor.”
I laugh quietly. “Dr. Redman made the incision. But I delivered her. And I got to sew your skin up after.”
“I hope you did a good job,” she jokes. “You never know who might be seeing it.”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “Not too many people, I hope. Actually, not any people,” I say. “Well, except one person.” I stare at her, letting her know I want to be that person.
She nods weakly at me before her eyes can’t stay open any longer.
I watch Elizabeth drift off to sleep. I watch her baby’s little lip quiver in her own slumber. I look up to see my reflection in the dark window of night. The reflection of a man with a family. A family he never knew he wanted. A family that didn’t exist mere weeks ago.
The Stone Brothers: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 75