by Radclyffe
“How about why you disappeared?”
“That’s more the end than the beginning, but it’s the one I can answer easily.” Syd laughed again, the sound like splinters of glass. “I found out I was pregnant.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Emmett blinked.
What? Wait. How could she not know this? When? How did the two of them end up in bed if…
A million questions lined up in Emmett’s brain like cars on a rush-hour freeway, inching along with no space to move or maneuver. The congestion prevented her from processing much of anything.
Wait. She’d interviewed a thousand patients. She knew how to ask questions about sensitive issues. All she had to do was take herself out of the picture. Emmett almost laughed. Syd already did that, about five years ago, and she was just now catching on. She mentally stepped back, imagined the two of them enclosed behind a curtain in the ER. Intimate and totally disconnected. “You found out after we met? You didn’t know before?”
Syd laced her fingers together. “No.”
Emmett shook her head, trying to make a picture out of puzzle pieces that didn’t fit. “I guess you weren’t planning it, then.”
“Hardly. I must have used half a dozen strips before I finally believed it. I hadn’t been with…well, I didn’t suspect.” She sighed. “You know how it is. The internship year especially is so insane…you never sleep, sometimes you’re too stressed to think about eating, and the next minute you’re eating everything in sight. Your whole life is chaos. If I missed a period, I never thought anything of it.”
“I came up with a lot of scenarios as to what might have happened,” Emmett said wryly, “but not this one. I’m not sure what to say.”
“No, I imagine you don’t. If it bothers you, I don’t have to—”
“No. I’m not bothered. I’m surprised,” Emmett said quickly, “but most of all I want to know about you. I’ve always wanted to know you, not just what happened to us then, but about you. Everything about you—what you want, what you dream, what you need. I want to know about this, but I don’t want to ask something that’s not appropriate. I—”
“Why don’t I just tell you about me,” Syd said, “and maybe some of it at least will make sense.”
“Yes.” Emmett worried she’d take a wrong step and say the wrong thing or push too hard, but Syd smiled just a little, and Emmett felt as if she’d just been awarded the Nobel Prize. “Yes, that would be great. That would be perfect.”
Nodding, as if telling herself she could do this, Syd said, “So, my parents are pretty good people—both of them are Navy veterans. Both served in the first Iraq war when my sister and I were toddlers. My mother was a pilot and my dad was a field doc.” She stopped. “Maybe there’s no point in making you listen to—”
“There is. Start wherever you want—hell, start when your parents first met—”
Syd laughed, and looked surprised at the sound. “Uh, no, I don’t think we need to go back that far.”
“Tell me anything, Syd,” Emmett said gently. “I really need to hear this. Whatever you want to tell.”
“You’re really very special, you know,” Syd murmured.
Emmett wasn’t so sure about that. Maybe if she’d been paying more attention, she would have noticed Syd wasn’t quite as swept away as she had been. Maybe if she’d just looked a little harder instead of leading with her hormones, Syd would have talked to her.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Syd said. “You couldn’t have guessed. I had no idea.”
“Mind reading now?” Emmett asked lightly.
“You’re an easy read.” Syd’s smile was soft. “So no blaming yourself.” She straightened her shoulders. “The parents. Being really good people doesn’t always mean being flexible or understanding or very accepting of difference. I have an older sister who is kind of the poster child for conservatism. She got it from my parents.”
Emmett nodded, an uncomfortable premonition as to where the story was leading already blossoming in her mind. Syd’s gaze passed over her, but Emmett could tell Syd was focused somewhere else. In the past. A long way in the past.
“They were delighted when I expressed an interest in medicine in high school,” Syd said. “They were even happier that the son of their best friends, another ex-military couple, was interested in me. Aaron was—is—everything they would’ve wanted in a son. Intelligent, handsome, humorous, ambitious, born to success. Everyone—our families, our friends, our teachers—expected us to become a couple. Of course, we did. From our junior year in high school through college and med school.” Syd snorted. “Always the couple voted most likely to succeed—at everything.”
“Wow,” Emmett said. “A lot of expectations.”
Syd laughed sharply. “Yes, expectations without much room for straying from the plan. After all, the course was clear. I can’t really blame my parents completely. The picture made sense to me too, at first. I had my mother and father, Aaron’s parents, and most of the families of my friends as an example of what life should be. Aaron and I fit the mold perfectly. We’d be the perfect couple with the perfect life.” Syd’s mouth thinned. “Except for one little thing.”
Emmett said, “Except something happened that wasn’t in the plan.”
“Oh yes, something happened. When I was a sophomore in college, I fell crazy in love with one of my best friends. I think she probably felt the same about me, but nowhere was something like that in the picture of our future, not for either one of us.”
“Did you sleep together?”
“No,” Syd said, “nothing physical happened beyond a few furtive kisses, but the passion was unforgettable. After eight or nine months of being constantly together, she retreated, refocused on her boyfriend, and got engaged. They were married before they graduated. Aaron and I—”
Syd looked at Emmett. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“I’m fine. I might be a teeny bit jealous of the first girl, but hey—I’m here now.”
“Somehow you always make me laugh when I can’t imagine being able to,” Syd muttered.
“I’m not trying to diminish what you went through,” Emmett said softly.
“I know.” Syd relaxed a fraction. “I know. Besides, I love it when you make me laugh, especially at myself.”
Emmett’s heart stumbled over the L-word for a second. But they had a lot more to get through, and right now, that’s what mattered. “So did you and Aaron…?”
“Get married?” Syd grimaced. “No. We both wanted to wait. We both wanted medicine, and there wasn’t much room for anything except studying while we were in college. We needed to have outstanding academic records so we’d have our pick of the schools. Of course we intended to train together.”
“Right.”
“It was easy not to think about anything else—we were both so focused on academics in college, and then medical school, and then getting our internships. I could just ignore what I felt, or didn’t feel.”
“And were there other girls who made you wonder? After college?” Emmett asked.
“There were feelings, but nothing I ever pursued. It was easy to ignore them too.” Syd met Emmett’s gaze, and now her eyes were clear and sharp and intent. “Until there was you. I couldn’t ignore you. I couldn’t do anything except touch you.”
Emmett’s heart beat in her throat, threatening to choke her. “You’re saying before me you hadn’t—”
Syd shook her head. “No, you were the first woman.” She smiled. “My first who mattered.”
“Well.” Emmett ran her hand through her hair. “Crap. I wish I’d known.”
Syd laughed, this time a free, nearly happy sound. “Why? Would you have done anything differently?”
“I don’t know,” Emmett said, “maybe. I might have focused a little more on what the hell I was doing. I was pretty much not thinking at all.”
“No, neither was I. I’m sorry—” Syd stopped, frowned. “No, I’m not sorry
. Not about sleeping with you.”
Emmett wanted to cheer. If Syd regretted them being together, really regretted it, she was going to hurt for a long time. “I’m glad.”
“So am I,” Syd said. “I wanted you every bit as much as you wanted me, and I’m not sorry about any of it except what happened when I…when I found out.”
“Come on, Syd. Anyone would have been thrown by that.”
“No. Most people wouldn’t have sleepwalked through half their lives and ended up in someone else’s story.” Syd took a long breath and shivered as if she was cold.
“Are you okay?” Emmett asked. “Can I get you a sweatshirt or a drink or something?”
“I’m okay. I…I haven’t ever really talked about all of it.”
“If we’re going too fast, if you want to slow—”
“No, I want to finish. I have to.”
Emmett wanted to hold her hand, something, anything to take some of her pain, to hold some of it for her. She couldn’t do that for Syd any more than she could do it for her patients. All she could do for the injured was give them her skill and her caring and her promise to do her best. Syd had asked that she listen, and she would.
“Whatever you want to say, whenever you want to say it,” Emmett said.
“I’ve never wanted to tell anyone before,” Syd said quietly.
“Thank you,” Emmett said, “for letting it be me.”
Syd paused, gathering herself or her thoughts. “When I told Aaron, I could tell he was angry, although he never said so. We were barely even halfway through our first year, and he was competing for one of the combined general-plastic surgery slots along with five other interns. He couldn’t afford any distractions.”
Emmett clamped her teeth together so she didn’t say anything at all. She was trying not to dislike the guy. But what an asshole.
“But to give him credit,” Syd continued, “he wanted to get married, and why wouldn’t he? That was the plan, after all, and had been for ten years. Our families, of course, supported the idea when he told them, and my sister was instantly ready to start wedding planning.”
“Can I ask,” Emmett said hoarsely, “why you didn’t tell me?”
“Aaron and I hadn’t been intimate for months.” Syd grimaced. “Of course the last time had to be the time for the less than one percent failure rate to happen. I’d known, somewhere I wasn’t quite ready to say out loud, that I wasn’t going to marry Aaron. As soon as I told him about the pregnancy I told him that too, and he…he actually laughed. Said of course I was, why wouldn’t I?”
Emmett winced. “You told him why?”
“Oh yes, and everyone else too.” Syd reached for her hand. “Everything pretty much blew up at that point.”
Emmett clasped Syd’s hand loosely, worried she’d transmit her own anger and helplessness through her grip if she wasn’t careful. None of this was about her—she had been collateral damage in a battle Syd had fought alone. She wished she could have been there, ached to have been able to offer Syd some support, but she could offer her some of that now. “And you were still working. I can’t imagine handling all of that and the internship too.”
“I was trying to at first,” Syd said, “but when both families got involved, I was afraid if I tried to work, I was going to make a mistake. I took my vacation early so I could try to deal with our parents and him and everything else.”
“That’s why I couldn’t reach you when I tried,” Emmett said almost to herself. “When I didn’t hear from you for a week, I tried paging you. After two weeks, I called the hospital but they said you were unavailable. You weren’t there then, were you?”
“No.” Syd covered her eyes for a second. She’d lost color, and her hands were shaking.
Emmett reached for Syd’s other hand and when Syd gripped hers tightly, some of the knots in Emmett’s middle loosened. “You don’t have to tell me the rest of it now.”
“I’m okay. It’s just when I think about it, I feel like I made so many mistakes.” Syd’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Years of them, Emmett. Years of lying to myself and to Aaron. I hurt people I should never hurt. I hurt you.”
“No,” Emmett said firmly. “I cared for you right away, and it hurt to lose the chance to have more with you, but that wasn’t your fault. This was too big, Syd, too much was going on. You’d just met me, and even if you’d told me—the timing was all wrong.”
“We slept together,” Syd said softly. “Enough times to know we meant something to each other.”
Emmett couldn’t deny it. She knew exactly how many times they’d slept together, but the number could have been one or a thousand. The power of their connection had been unforgettable from the beginning, and she wouldn’t pretend to Syd it was anything less. “Ninety-nine people out of a hundred would have crumbled under everything you had to handle. I don’t blame you for not reaching out to me.”
“If it makes a difference,” Syd said, “I never went back to the surgery program.”
Emmett stifled a gasp. She’d guessed, but the knowledge was like a blow. “What were you planning to do?”
“Well,” Syd said, “my parents eventually disowned me when they finally truly believed I wasn’t going to marry Aaron. Aaron vowed there would be a custody fight over the baby, and it’s very possible he would’ve won that. There was no way I could continue the residency with him there, and I asked for a leave.”
“You were going to go back to the residency after your baby was born,” Emmett said.
“That was the plan. I was lucky—our residency director understood the situation. She told me she would help me, and she did, eventually. I think she would’ve found a way to keep me at University if I’d wanted, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t work with Aaron there.”
“So Franklin.”
“Yes. I got lucky with that.” Syd smiled sadly. “But it didn’t feel that way for quite a while.”
Emmett gently rubbed her thumbs over the top of her knuckles. “What happened?”
“What happens to a lot of women in situations like that—huge stress, emotional and psychological trauma.” Syd’s fingers tightened on Emmett’s. “I had an abruption at twenty weeks, too early for the fetus to be viable.”
“Syd, that’s terrible. I’m so, so sorry.” Emmett felt sick. Abruption was a disastrous complication, and the incidence of maternal death was high. Just thinking about Syd in that situation made her crazy. “Your parents didn’t come around?”
“No. But I got through it after a couple of months. Franklin accepted me on short notice, but I had to repeat the internship year.”
Emmett shook her head. “Any one of those things would’ve put most people down, but you, you made it.”
Syd gently disengaged her hands. “Maybe I did, but I’m not sure all the broken parts were ever fixed. I’ve kept it all locked away because I’ve had to make it through my training.”
“And I’ve brought it all up again, haven’t I.”
“Yes,” Syd said softly. “And I’m not sure I how I feel about that.”
“I wish I didn’t understand,” Emmett said, “but I do.”
Syd sighed. “I’d ask for time to sort things through, but that’s hardly fair. I’ve had plenty of time up until now. I need to get through the next year and so do you.”
“So what are you saying?” Emmett already knew the answer, but maybe hearing the words would make her accept it.
“I can’t get involved right now. I’m sorry.” Syd rose and moved out of Emmett’s reach. “And I can’t sleep with you and not be involved.”
Emmett had been wrong. Nothing was going to make watching Syd walk away easier.
Chapter Twenty-five
“Sorry I’m late,” Syd said in a rush as she pulled out a chair at their usual round table in the cafeteria.
“It’s six thirty-one.” Emmett smiled. “You’re not that late.”
Syd opened her tablet and pulled up the patient list. Technically she was late,
since she made it a point to be ready for rounds before any of the junior residents, and today she was the last to arrive. Emmett didn’t count. She rarely beat Emmett anywhere. Somehow Emmett always managed to be everywhere she was needed before anyone else. Easy to see why she had been the main contender for chief resident, and why none of the other residents, even the ones in her year, seemed to mind. Emmett wasn’t just good, she was fair and worked harder than anyone else. If Syd hadn’t been thrown into competition with her, she’d have given Emmett her vote without a second thought. “Sorry, I need to ask—Kos stopped me on the way down and asked me if I was free to scrub with him on a cranial reconstruction this morning. I was wondering if—”
“Sure,” Emmett said.
“Thanks.” Syd texted Kos to say she’d be there for the case and focused on her tablet as Hank started his rundown of the floor patients. Morning rounds were so much a part of her daily routine and she knew all the patients so well, she listened and absorbed the information on autopilot.
When Morty finished up with report on the ICU patients, Emmett made the OR and floor assignments and everyone got up to leave. Syd lingered until Hank and Morty were out of earshot.
“Got a second?” Syd asked.
“What’s up?” Emmett slid her mini-tablet into the pocket of her lab coat and regarded Syd with a friendly but remote expression.
Syd was getting used to the distance. She hadn’t known what to expect after telling Emmett about Aaron and why she’d disappeared—anger, recrimination, disappointment all seemed reasonable, and she’d prepared herself for the hurt of seeing those things in Emmett’s eyes. None of that had happened. Emmett hadn’t brought up their weekend conversation and she treated Syd the same as she did all the other residents—friendly and professional. But there’d been no more offers to share a quick meal between cases or grab a beer after work or finish off the previous night’s leftovers sitting on the porch at home. Syd accepted that since she’d been the one to put restrictions on their relationship, she didn’t have any right to miss those moments, but she did.