by Kat T. Masen
I check my watch as Ava drops her head, trying to cover her grin.
“Would you look at the time? I need to head back now.” I lean in, quickly kissing Ava on the forehead. “Make sure Eric behaves, please. I don’t want security scouring the halls wondering why the storage closet is locked again.”
Eric's mouth falls open, his eyes widening. “Storage closet! I knew there was a place.”
As I close the door behind me and begin my walk back to the ER, my phone buzzes inside my pocket. I pull it out to read a text from Ava.
Ava: Ignore Eric. He is not getting laid since Tristan is back in LA for the week.
Me: His obsession with the word ‘fellatus’ is oddly disturbing
Ava: A simple blow job should suffice.
Bowing my head inside the elevator, I forget what a blow job feels like since it's been forever. Not to mention Ava and I have never officially engaged that way.
Me: It should. It would.
Ava: Well played, Dr. Carter. I walked into that. See you after your shift.
My parents left for a quick weekend away in Montauk before heading back to LA. I’m somewhat relieved they left since juggling the baby and Ava’s family—is beginning to take its toll. Everyone has an opinion on everything, and I’m not used to being surrounded by so much family.
Inside the breakout room, I stretch my arms, then crack my neck, desperate to alleviate the stress. My hands reach out for the coffee machine, but I retreat since I’ve already drunk multiple cups.
Today tested me with a patient admitted with multiple bullet wounds. We tried our best to revive the man who remained under police guard, but in the end, his injuries were too horrific.
His teenage children wept in the corridor, the trauma too much to handle as they apparently witnessed the whole aftermath.
Closing my eyes, I intake a breath, and when I open them again, Ava’s face comes to mind. For the last week, it’s been weighing on my mind where we go from here. Ava’s treating doctor advised she can be discharged on Monday with Emmy. Everything is progressing nicely, and as long as Emmy continues her routine check-ups, she doesn’t see the need for either one of them to stay any longer.
The news is great, and although I’m yet to tell Ava, there is the matter of where we stand.
I don’t want Ava to be alone, knowing she needs support. But where does that leave us?
Aside from the constant visitors, Ava spends any free moment she has in the NICU. When she returns to her room, she always falls asleep.
I just need her to be alone, to confess how I feel, and ask her if she would consider living together. The thought of being apart from Emmy leaves me unsettled. I don’t want to miss her milestones because it isn’t my day to take care of her.
But things are complicated.
If I bring this up, and Ava agrees, there’s no turning back.
This isn’t a break-up-get-back-together situation. We have a child to consider, and we can’t play Russian roulette with our relationship.
Also, Ava’s emotions have been somewhat heightened of late. So it really could go either way.
“Hey, stranger,” a voice says behind me.
I swiftly turn around to see Lane. It’s been a few weeks since I saw her last. Our shifts never rostered at the same time.
“Hey yourself.”
“Rumor has it you had a baby?”
I nod with a proud smile, leaning back against the locker. “Yes, she came early.”
“Congratulations,” Lane offers, then grins. “You know, a bunch of the new nurses are deeply disappointed you’re in a relationship.”
“The girls in the geriatric ward?”
Lane laughs, crossing her arms, still dressed in her scrubs. “Yeah, there was some pool on who could get into bed with you first.”
I drop my head to chuckle, then rub my face. “How do you know all this?”
“Hmm, the gossip train moves fast. They somehow found out we were together and, um, wanted specifics on, your um… anatomy.”
My lips press together, unsure of what to say. “I’m not sure how to respond to that, but Ava and I are just co-parenting right now.”
Lane watches me attentively, her lips twisting with sympathy.
“Austin, when are you just going to tell her you love her? You have a family now, and this isn’t some fling.”
“It’s not that simple, Lane,” I tell her, honestly. “We have this history, and Ava isn’t like anyone else. I don’t want to push her, not when she has a history of fleeing when she loses interest.”
“You think Ava will lose interest in you?”
“You don’t know her like I do,” I mumble.
“I don’t, but I do know that it’s not possible to lose interest in Austin Carter. You’re a great guy, and you will be an amazing father,” Lane admits, keeping her gaze fixed with a warm smile. “Now, any chance I can meet your daughter?”
“Sure, I was just about to go there myself.”
We leave the breakout room and chat on our way up to the NICU. Our conversations usually revolve around work. That is when we do run into each other and have time to chat.
Upon arriving at the NICU, we follow protocol then enter, where I lead her to the incubator.
“Oh, Austin,” Lane murmurs, her eyes lighting up. “She’s beautiful.”
“Can’t argue with that. She’s progressing nicely, and if all goes well, she should be able to go home on Monday.”
“You must be so relieved.”
“I am. It’s been a stressful week. I would have liked to take time off, but we’re too busy, and my leave is scheduled for when the baby was supposed to be due.”
Lane has a look at the chart, reading some of the information which we discuss in more detail.
A noise interrupts our conversation, prompting me to turn around. Ava is standing a few feet away, dressed in her blue silk pajamas. She must have just showered as her hair is still wet yet brushed neatly to the side.
Ava stares at Lane and me with a pinched expression, crossing her arms beneath her chest.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt the two of you.”
“Of course you didn’t. We were just discussing her breathing levels.” I tilt my head, questioning Ava’s mood. “You remember Lane, don’t you?”
Ava forces a smile. “How could I forget?”
I check my watch, noting the time. “Are you here to feed?”
She turns away with a slight nod and sits in the recliner while the nurse removes Emmy from the incubator, then places her in Ava’s arms. Lane quickly says goodbye to head over to the cardiac ward to check on a patient.
Ava shuffles, trying to get comfortable while unbuttoning her top. Her milk came in a few days ago, and since then, Ava’s breasts grew to double the size. They are impossible to ignore, and if anything, look extremely uncomfortable.
In her arms, Emmy appears to be fussy and not latching on.
“C’mon, baby girl,” Ava cries in frustration. “Why don’t you want to feed?”
Leaning down, I stroke Emmy’s cheek to relax her. She begins to suck as Ava breathes a sigh of relief, closing her eyes momentarily.
“Oh, thank God.”
“Better?” I ask, trying to soothe her.
Ava is exhausted, which doesn’t surprise me. Her body has undergone so many changes over the last week, and it’s usual for a woman’s hormones to be unbalanced after giving birth.
“Does Lane always work the same shift as you?”
I purse my lips and shake my head. “No, sometimes we cross paths, but not daily.”
She shifts her gaze back onto Emmy, avoiding my eyes. I sense her jealousy, though it’s ludicrous given I broke it off with Lane months ago. This is the last thing she should be worrying about.
“You know, Ava. We haven’t had much time to talk in private, but when I said I was falling in love with you a week ago, I meant it.”
Ava releases a breath, then slowly, she glanc
es up until our eyes finally meet.
“I just… ” she trails off, then continues, “… when I see her with you, something stirs within me. I can’t explain it.”
I lower my body, bending my knees until our faces are at the same level. My fingers reach out for her cheek, gently stroking it. Ava sighs softly as I lean in to place a kiss on her lips.
Albeit brief, her kiss is pure and everything I need.
“We’ll work this out, okay? But right now, we need to take our baby home and learn how to raise a child together.”
Ava nods, a slow smile escaping her. “Mom said my apartment is ready. Your mom helped her wash all the baby clothes and set up the diaper table.”
“That sounds like Mom,” I tell her while grinning. “So, Monday is the big day. I’ll try to swap my shift so we can leave together. How does that sound?”
Ava touches my face, never breaking her gaze. “It sounds perfect, Austin.”
I stay for a few minutes before my pager goes off. The emergency beeping means they need me downstairs immediately.
“I have to go,” I quickly advise, despite my desperate need to go home and sleep. “Sorry, they’ve got multiple trauma cases arriving.”
“Go,” she says, then leans over to kiss me one more time. “Do what you need to do. Emmy and I will be just fine.”
Standing up to leave, I stop, then lean down to kiss her one more time.
“Keep thinking the things you’re thinking,” I whisper with a simper.
Ava grins knowingly. “I will, Dr. Carter. Promise I won’t stop.”
Twenty-Three
Ava
Everything I have ever learned about being a mother up to this point is a lie.
The movies, the articles, and even these stupid books which people insisted I read.
No one tells you what happens after you give birth. First, there are the stitches down below and the mere thought of a needle being used to sew up a vagina. There’s the struggle to use the toilet, worried you’ll tear something. Then, to the airplane-sized pads you’re forced to wear because of the continuous bleeding.
As someone who has only experienced light menstrual bleeding, this is a shock in itself.
The body aches, and my limbs are sore. And let's not forget my breasts—they’re enormous. My nipples look like they belong on a cover of National Geographic. All I’m missing is a grass skirt and a jungle background.
Another thing people forget to disclose is when your milk comes in, it is excruciating, and there is no other way to explain it. One minute, I’m barely able to squeeze the colostrum from them. To the next, they’re pouring out like an overflowing river of milk.
It means my diet had to change because everything I eat or drink is passed onto Emmy.
But aside from my body feeling like a punching bag, Emmy has decided that sleeping at night is for the weak.
Why sleep when you can cry instead?
The nights are the hardest, feeding in solitude while trying not to fall asleep at the same time. She doesn’t wake up just once a night but more like four to five times. The longest stretch of sleep is from four in the morning to about seven. Three glorious straight hours of sleep before the sun rises and we’re up again.
I lose track of days, almost every day feeling like Groundhog Day.
Mom staying with me has helped so much. With her experience and knowledge, she suggests we work on getting Emmy to sleep for longer stretches by recommending we bathe her at night and then finish with two feeds. Mom said that the first feed after a bath is usually short because the baby is too tired. The downfall, the baby will wake up really hungry in a few hours.
So that’s what we do, bathe Emmy around seven in the evening followed by a quick feed so she sleeps to about eleven. When she wakes around that time, she drinks much more, which changes the way she sleeps. We’ve started noticing she goes straight through until about four in the morning, giving me some relief.
“No wonder you had four kids,” I utter to Mom as we sit on the sofa while I feed Emmy. “You’re a pro at this. Just getting those few extra hours of sleep feels like heaven.”
“It’ll get easier when you have more kids.”
“More kids?” I raise my brows, then tuck in my upper lip. “I think I’m done.”
Mom chuckles softly. “That’s what every woman says. Just wait. One day you’ll surprise yourself when you yearn to hold a baby in your arms, and you miss the newborn smell.”
Leaning in, I inhale Emmy’s scent. Something about it is so pure, a mix of baby products and something else I can’t quite figure out.
“I guess you have to be married to make that happen for the second time.”
Mom wraps her hand around the warm cup, blowing the steam away to take a sip of her coffee. God, what I’d give for coffee right now.
“Austin is a good man and a great father,” she begins with, then stalls, waiting for my reaction. “You know I’ve always been fond of him, and your father respects Austin.”
“But?”
“No buts, honey. I just want you to know that whichever way you decide to take your relationship with Austin, we’re here to support you.”
My gaze falls upon Emmy, the sweet little angel in my arms. She’s grown a lot and making these cute sounds which sometimes can sound like she’s sighing.
“He’s a good guy, great, in fact. It’s just not that easy, Mom. There are so many things going on, not to mention Millie's history with him. I just think our emotions can sometimes be clouded amongst the chaos.”
Mom nods quietly, her eyes brightening as she appears to be reflecting.
“My entire life has been chaos since the moment I fell in love with your father. Nothing we did was conventional. We didn’t date, as you know, he was my best friend's older brother and married at the time. Then, eight years later, when our paths crossed, I was engaged to Julian. Our timing was never right, but perhaps in hindsight, it’s what tested our strength and willingness to fight for one another.”
“But did you doubt yourself? Wondering if you were worthy of the man you fell in love with?”
A fond smile spreads across Mom’s face. “I mean, all the time. The great Lex Edwards? C’mon, every woman wants him. So, why me? What made me so special?”
“I’m sure, if you ask Dad… ” I say with a smile, then continue, “… he’d say, the great Charlotte Mason? Why would she want a controlling and jealous billionaire like me?”
We both laugh, releasing a sigh at the same time.
“God, he loves you, Mom. I’ve never ever seen him even bat an eye or look at another woman. He worships the ground you walk on. When you’ve grown up watching how a man should treat a woman, it sets your own expectations really high.”
“Your father and I aren’t perfect. We’ve grown together. But, Ava, you must understand that fairy tales are just that. Love can be hard work. Sometimes, when we love so hard, we make wrong decisions. My point is, don’t be afraid to give your heart away, but also don’t expect that if you do, it’s a guaranteed happily ever after. You’ve got to fight hard, and that’s what will strengthen the bond between you and the man you love. Just like when you see him fighting just as hard for you.”
Mom gives me a lot to think about, and perhaps what she says is true. I’ve grown up reading fairy tales, thinking that once you fall in love, it’s a guaranteed happily ever after. The hard work is done, right?
But those closest to me are prime examples of how falling in love isn’t easy. Will and Millie’s story sticks out the most, mainly because it doesn’t feel like so long ago. Things would have been a lot different if they didn’t break up and Will didn’t move to London. Though, just like Mom said, they fought hard to be together, and it was all about timing, especially for them.
During Mom’s stay, I welcome our chats over tea and coffee. However, with Austin working nights and sometimes double shifts, he usually only has an hour to spend with Emmy before going home to crash. I begin to see
just how exhausted he is, and so with that, I don’t put any pressure on him to talk about us so he can focus on bonding with Emmy.
Yet like all good things, Mom needs to go home. So with her bags packed, she extends her arms to bring me in for a hug.
“I’m going to miss you, Mom. This whole parent gig is full-on.”
“You’re telling me, kid,” she answers with a grin. “Twenty-five years later, and I’m still fussing over you.”
“Twenty-six next week.”
“Of course. My baby girl just keeps on growing.”
I laugh. “You’re just as bad as Dad. But honestly, Mom, thank you for everything.”
“Anytime, honey. Think about coming to visit or stay a bit with us, okay?”
I nod with a smile. “I will, Mom.”
“Happy birthday!”
Eric and Nikki are at my door, not even waiting for a ‘come in’ and just barging into my apartment with their hands full of gifts.
Nikki is wearing a beautiful olive Dior dress. I recognize it from the summer collection. She’s never one to dress casually, always looking like a runway model and half her actual age. People often think she is Will’s sister. That’s how youthful she looks.
As for Eric, he’s dressed in his well-pressed Burberry suit, and his hair strategically styled to the side with not a single strand out of place.
“Thank you, guys. You didn’t have to.”
“Are you kidding me? This is just a small portion of the gifts which have arrived today. Your office is covered in presents, and sweetie, your designer bag heart is going to literally come when you see what you’ve been given.”
“Um, sure.” I laugh, glad to have Eric here to lighten my mood. “I spy a pink bag in your hands?”
Nikki and Eric look at each other with a mischievous grin, then sing in unison Happy Birthday. They pass the bag over, insisting I see what’s inside.
Removing the white tissue paper first, I then reach in and pull out a black lace one-piece which is entirely transparent. The bikini line is high, and when I tilt my head, I notice the split in the crotch, which I can only assume was designed on purpose.