Page 96 of Burned By the Broken Doctor

I cast a sideways glance at the towering stacks of medical charts lining the shelves, a silent accusation hanging in the air. “Dad,” I begin, my voice tight, “I need to know what's going on with Emma.”

He steeples his fingers, his gaze unwavering. “You know I can't divulge patient information, Liam.”

“I know,” I sigh, the frustration bubbling over. “But it's Emma! She disappeared from the hospital, won't answer my calls or texts, and I can't find her anywhere.”

He studies me for a long moment, then finally nods. “Alright, Liam. Take some days off. Start at dawn if you need to.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I mutter, relief washing over me. I will find Emma, no matter what it takes.

But before I can turn to leave, another thought strikes me. “Dad,” I say, hesitation lacing my voice, “I know you're loyal to your patients, but…” I trail off, searching for the right words. “I just need to know… Is Emma alright? Is she…sick?”

His gaze meets mine, an unreadable emotion flickering in its depths. For a moment, I think he won't answer. Then, a barely audible, “She's okay” escapes his lips.

“Okay?” I repeat, the word feeling hollow on my tongue. “Okay how?”

He doesn't answer, and I know I won't get anything more out of him with the patient confidentiality shield raised. With a defeated sigh, I turn toward the door.

“Liam,” he calls, stopping me in my tracks. His voice is softer now, almost hesitant. “She's not sick.”

I swing back around, my heart pounding with a mixture of hope and confusion. “Then what's going on?”

He stares at me for a long, lingering moment. Then, a flicker of something akin to regret crosses his features. “She's…okay, Liam,” he repeats, his voice strained. “That's all I can say.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand, silencing me. “Just…go find her, Liam. Talk to her.”

“I will,” I promise, a surge of determination coursing through me. “But…” I pause, a new thought forming in my mind. “Dad? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He looks away, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “Nothing, Liam. Just…go.”

There is something more, something he isn't telling me. But before I can press him further, his voice breaks the silence.

“I'm sorry, Liam,” he says, the words filled with a deep-seated sorrow.

“Sorry for what?” I ask, confused.

He remains silent for a moment, then meets my gaze with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. “Because I set a bad example, Liam. My marriage to your mother?—“

“Dad,” I cut him off, shaking my head. “This isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself.”

He gives a curt nod. “You're not me, Liam. Don't be afraid of anything.”

“Afraid?” I echo, perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

He holds my gaze, his voice firm. “Just answer one question truthfully first, Liam.” He pauses, letting the silence stretch between us. “Do you ever…want to be a dad?”

The question hangs in the air, unexpected and heavy. Before I can even process it, the truth tumbles out of me. “Honestly? No. Not before. But…” My voice trails off, my mind whirling with a confusing mix of emotions. “But things are different now. I don't know why, but…” I look at him, “...the thought of having a child with Emma…it doesn't scare me anymore. In fact, it kind of…excites me.” The words feel strange on my tongue, a foreign concept that suddenly feels strangely familiar.

A ghost of a smile plays on my father's lips, a rare sight that sends a jolt of surprise through me. “Good,” he says, his voice gruff but laced with a hint of satisfaction. “Then go find her, Liam. Tell her exactly that.”

My mind races, trying to catch up with the bombshell revelation. Emma…pregnant? With my child? A whirlwind of emotions—shock, disbelief, a surge of unexpected joy—threaten to overwhelm me.

“She's…pregnant?” I stammer, the word coming out as a raspy whisper.

My father nods, his face uncharacteristically open. “You know I can’t tell, Liam.” .”

He doesn’t have to. Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The stress that made her faint, Emma's emotional state. It all makes a twisted kind of sense.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I demand, a mixture of anger and hurt bubbling up inside me. “Why all the secrecy?”

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