by Amy Ruttan
“What do you think of snow?” she asked.
Cold. He took a sip of his coffee.
“Yes. It must be a culture shock for you.”
A bit. He nervously began to flick at the plastic spout on his coffee cup. Our son...
“Peter,” Reagan whispered softly, a bloom of pink on her high round cheeks.
An interesting name.
“I always liked it—and Peter Pan was the boy who never grew up.” Her voice trembled, but only for a moment. “It suits him.”
Peter Pan lived forever by not growing up, yes?
“Well, I suppose so. He never aged as long as he stayed in Neverland.”
There you go.
Peter. His son was named Peter. Though Kainan hadn’t put Peter Pan and his son’s name together at first. When she’d said his name was Peter all he’d been able to think of was St. Peter, the patron saint of fisherman.
Isla Hermosa had a thriving fishing industry, so the thought of St. Peter made him happy, but it frightened him all the same. Peter was a prince.
“You’re frowning again,” Reagan said.
He smiled. I frown a lot lately.
“Why?”
I’ve been through a lot. Then he sighed. I suppose we both have.
“Our time in Isla Hermosa feels like a lifetime ago.” Pink tinged her cheeks again. “I am glad you’re alive. I didn’t tell you that.”
Kainan’s heart melted. I’m glad to see you again too.
“So, Michael told me you’re awaiting surgery for your voice?”
He clenched his coffee cup. Yes. I hope it works.
Kainan didn’t tell her the risks he was taking. The chances that he wouldn’t live through it. She didn’t need to know.
Reagan nodded. “I’m sure it will, although I’m sure scar tissue is an issue in your case?”
Kainan’s stomach turned. It was indeed adhesions and scar tissue that were impeding his throat. Choking him from the inside out.
I don’t want to discuss it.
“Fair enough,” she said.
He felt bad, but he didn’t want to think about the surgery. He needed his voice by the New Year, because on January first he was supposed to be on a plane to Isla Hermosa to attend his own coronation.
Without his voice he was trapped. He was blessed that he knew American Sign Language, but without his voice he couldn’t properly rule and nor could he practice medicine. And without the surgery he might die.
So he was trapped. There was no choice over his surgery. It had to be done.
A ring tone sounded and Reagan glanced down at the phone in her hand, frowning.
Peter? Kainan signed, his heart sinking.
“No, incoming trauma. I’m needed,” she said. “It must be a lot of trauma coming here or I wouldn’t have been called in to help.”
Go, Kainan signed. I can find my way around.
“Not everyone knows ASL.”
Kainan pulled out his phone and typed in the word Go. His phone repeated it back. She smiled at him.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He nodded and watched Reagan disappear, a pang of jealousy coursing through him. How he wished he could be in the fray with her. Like old times.
He tossed the coffee cup in the garbage and wandered through the hospital.
He wanted to be free. And even though he wasn’t in a palace, he was alone and shackled here.
You’re not alone. You have Reagan.
Only he didn’t have Reagan. She wasn’t his. Not yet.
His stomach turned with guilt at the life he was going to impose on her.
And he hated himself for it.
Chapter Three
THE INCOMING TRAUMA took longer than Reagan had expected. A multi-vehicle crash with multiple traumatic injuries kept her in surgery for hours, and by the time she got out it was evening. She was exhausted, and wondering what had happened to Kainan.
He wasn’t answering his pager at all, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had gone home.
She couldn’t really think about it right now. She hadn’t heard from Sophie, Peter’s nurse, since she’d gone to see Peter earlier. Which was good. Of course it was protocol not to disturb a surgeon when operating. Still, no one had come to find her afterward. So Peter had to be okay.
It had been the longest stretch in a while since she’d got an update and she was worried.
She’d worry about Kainan later. Right now she had to see Peter and make sure that he was all right.
As Reagan approached the pediatric critical care unit she met Sophie coming off her shift.
“Sorry, Sophie. I was in surgery. If you paged me and I didn’t answer...”
“It’s okay, Reagan. Nothing to mention. Peter is stable, but there is something you didn’t tell me.”
“Oh?”
“You didn’t tell me that Peter’s father is Dr. Laskaris.”
Reagan’s eyes widened. “I... What? How did you find that out?”
“He’s in there now. At first I wasn’t going to let him in to see Peter, per your restrictions, but he said he was his father.”
“And you believed him?” Reagan’s voice rose an octave.
Sophie blushed. “He offered to take a genetic test. It’s still in process. We let him in the unit, but he’s not in Peter’s pod and he’s not allowed to touch him. He’s just sitting there, in the room you sleep in, watching him.”
Reagan felt terrible for snapping at Sophie.
“I’m sorry, Sophie. You did absolutely the right thing. Dr. Laskaris is Peter’s father.”
“Well, I really grilled him. But you told me Peter’s father died on Isla Hermosa and Dr. Laskaris is Hermosian. Also, you brought him in here earlier, even though he doesn’t have privileges yet.”
Reagan smiled. “I meant to tell you earlier, but I was in complete and utter shock. I thought he was dead.”
Sophie grinned. “I’m sure you were. I know I would be too, in your situation.”
Reagan laughed nervously. “You can let Dr. Laskaris in to see Peter whenever he wants.”
“I’ll make a note on his chart tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Sophie. Have a great night.”
Sophie waved goodbye as she walked away. And for one moment Reagan envied her because she had freedom.
When Reagan had found out she was pregnant she’d known her life would change, but she’d been expecting diapers, daycare and a messy apartment.
Not this.
Never this.
She buzzed in to the pediatric critical care unit after putting on the gown and gloves that were mandatory. The new shift on the unit had started, and she greeted the people she knew all too well.
Kainan was standing in the little room next to Peter’s, watching their son intently through the glass partition. Reagan couldn’t read his expression but it didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was that Kainan was there.
He was with Peter.
Her father had never been there for her. He’d barely acknowledged her. So to see Kainan with Peter softened her heart.
Maybe he did care about Peter. Maybe she had it all wrong.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” she said, coming up beside him. “I tried paging you, but you didn’t answer.”
My phone died, he signed. He held it up. Forgot the charger. It’s back at my place.
“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He nodded and smiled at her, those dark eyes twinkling.
Me too.
Her heart skipped a beat. “I told Sophie you’re his father. A genetic test isn’t needed.”
It’s okay. Actually, I don’t mind. I would like it done all the same.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “
Of course. You need verification. Facts. You are a doctor.”
What are you talking about? He looked confused.
“You’ll need scientific proof that he’s your son.”
He frowned. Looked concerned. No, not at all.
“Really?” she asked in disbelief.
Really. He turned and looked back at Peter. In him I see me.
Her heart skipped another beat, because she’d had that thought so many times when she’d looked at Peter.
She saw Kainan.
“Then why did you agree to the test? Why do you want it?”
Blood types. I’m curious about whether he’s a universal donor, like me. It runs in my family.
“He does have a universal blood type.”
Kainan smiled. Good.
“The cardiomyopathy is genetic, but it doesn’t run on my side.”
I don’t have it either.
“You’re sure?”
The royal family of Isla Hermosa has been recorded for a long time, he signed. Then he tensed.
“Uh...what does the royal family of Isla Hermosa have to do with anything?” she asked, confused.
Nothing. I was thinking of something else.
“Okay.” Reagan couldn’t help but wonder why he was getting so defensive about this. “Still, it’s not on my side.”
It’s not on mine either, he signed. Stop implying it’s my fault.
“I’m not.”
Fine. Good, Kainan signed sharply.
Something was bothering him. “Sorry.”
No, I am sorry. Family is a touchy subject for me. The war was hard for so many.
“Yes,” she said sadly. “I remember that.”
Peter is all I have left.
That made her pause. It made her nervous, thinking he’d take Peter away.
Kainan had rights, but she couldn’t lose Peter.
Tears were threatening to escape, and she didn’t want to cry in front of Kainan or in front of Peter—even though Peter wouldn’t even know it if she did.
In the pediatric critical care unit she had to be strong. She was a warrior. A fighter for her son. There couldn’t be an inch of give. And she didn’t want to appear weak in front of Kainan or anyone.
If she did her weakness might be used against her.
Great. Now I’m being paranoid and sounding like my mother.
She had to get a grip. She was stressed, tired and stressed—in that order.
Kainan stepped closer, and before she could stop him he drew her into his arms. Her body reacted instantly to his touch. She closed her eyes, drinking in his scent, her body trembling because she’d never thought she’d experience this again.
She’d thought he was dead.
He was supposed to be dead.
And it had been so long since someone had held her. Her parents never openly showed affection and neither did she. Being in Kainan’s arms brought her carefully constructed walls down a little. It was overwhelming to be held by him. Actually to be comforted. Just like it had been the night Peter had been conceived.
“Come,” he said, his voice rasping, and she knew that it was a strain for him to speak. But with her head buried in his neck as she drank in the sensation of being held she couldn’t see him when he signed anyway.
Reagan let Kainan lead her out of the pediatric critical care unit.
She was in a daze.
She was exhausted.
Kainan took the gown off her and disposed of it. Then he removed the gown he was wearing.
Reagan shook herself out of the daze she was in. “Peter. I can’t leave him.”
You can leave him for one night.
“He has no one else.”
There’s a team of medical professionals in there to take care of him, Reagan. You need sleep and a decent meal.
“I have to stay here,” she said firmly.
Reagan, he’s stable. If he’s not they will page one of us. Come back to my place and I’ll get my charger. There you can shower and have a meal. Let’s get your things from your locker.
A hot shower and food that wasn’t from the cafeteria sounded heavenly, but she was terrified of leaving the hospital.
The nurses and doctors on the pediatric critical care unit had tried to get her to take a night off every once in a while, but she couldn’t do it.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
My place is right next door.
She cocked an eyebrow. “You’re staying at the Royal York?”
He nodded. Yes.
“That’s pricey.”
He shrugged. I have money, and none of that matters right now. Come, let me take care of you. You shall sleep and I will be on call for Peter tonight. Let me take some of the burden off your shoulders.
“I would like that...” She cleared her throat as emotion threatened to overtake her, but she controlled it.
Those dark eyes softened as he stepped forward and cupped her face briefly, and the simple touch eased her.
No feeling guilty. To take care of Peter you have to take care of yourself. Let’s go.
She nodded and he put his hand on the small of her back, as he’d done when they had gone to his tent in Isla Hermosa. It was nice.
After they’d gathered the small suitcase that she always kept at the hospital and put on their winter coats—because it was December, and the wind chill off the lake was brutal—they walked out of the hospital together and dashed across York Street. It was quiet, as there were no commuters out and about. However, there were a few hockey fans coming and going.
Kainan raised an eyebrow in question at the hockey-goers, with their blue-painted faces and shouting.
“Leafs. It’s hockey.”
He nodded, but didn’t sign anything, just squeezed her hand as they scurried up Front Street to the entrance of the Royal York hotel.
Through the revolving door Reagan stepped—into another world. She had only been in the Royal York once, and knew it was opulent with its art deco interiors from a golden age of Toronto.
“This way,” he whispered, and pulled out a gold card, which meant that Kainan had a suite.
He took her to the private elevator that was used by the elite guests at the Royal York.
He swiped his card and the elevator doors opened. They got on and took the elevator to the top floor. Then he led her down a hallway to the very end, and swiped the card to open the door to a luxurious suite.
She dropped her bag and stared at the main room with its plush furnishings, and then wandered in to see a king-size bed in another room, a kitchenette. As she approached the window she could see that there was a view of the waterfront over Union Station.
“Wow...” she whispered. “I’ve never been in one of these rooms before.”
He smiled and jammed his hands in his pockets. Food first, shower or nap?
“Shower first, if I can. Then food and maybe a nap. But I’m not entirely sure that I’m going to stay here, Kainan. I might have to sneak out and head back to the hospital.”
He chuckled and then plugged his phone into the charger on the desk. You go have a shower and I will order you some food.
“You don’t know what I like,” she teased.
I think I remember bits and pieces. Go shower, and then after you eat we’ll discuss whether you or I should go back.
“Deal.”
She found the bathroom and flicked on the light. There was a plush white robe and thick, soft towels. Much better than the staff change room. She pulled out her toiletries bag, digging for soap and shampoo.
It didn’t take her long to find everything she needed and soon she was turning on the shower. It was nice to have this moment to herself. And she didn’t feel rushed here, like she did in the hospital staff room.
This was
one of the first times she’d been out of the hospital in months. Paying her rent and utilities was done with a simple app on her phone or over the internet. She had no pets. No plants. Her life was in the hospital.
As she stepped under the shower and let the water wash away her stress she realized that in the hospital she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. She carried the weight of her son and the life that he might not get a chance to experience. It was only in the safety of the rushing water washing over her that she let it go for the first time in a long while.
She turned off the shower and grabbed a towel to dry her hair and face.
There was a knock on the door. She wrapped herself in a robe and opened the door. Kainan was standing there.
Are you okay?
“I’m fine.”
He pursed his lips together. You were in there a long time. I was worried you’d fallen asleep in there.
Warmth flooded in her cheeks. “How long have I been in here?”
An hour. He grinned.
“An hour?” She looked down at her hands, which were wrinkled like prunes from so much water. She must have zoned out.
Come, there’s food. You can stay in the robe.
She nodded and followed him out of the en-suite bathroom into the living room area, where there were salads, cheese, fruit and a big bowl of pasta. Her favorite kind too. Fettuccine Alfredo.
He’d remembered.
“Don’t think me ungrateful, but how did you order all this?”
Through the computer. The hotel and I have an understanding.
“It smells delicious. I can’t remember the last time I had real food instead of cafeteria food.”
Then let’s eat, instead of standing around here and talking about it.
He motioned for her to sit on the couch and remained standing until she sat.
Always the gentleman.
Even in a war zone. It had always been ladies first. And once, when a particularly crass soldier had got a little handsy with a nurse, Kainan had been there to jump into the fray and put that soldier in his place.
Of course since it hadn’t been a Hermosian solider there had been some international logistics to work out, and eventually both commanding officers had had Kainan and the other soldier duke it out in a boxing ring in the middle of the mobile army hospital.