Page 41 of Prognosis Do Over

‘Er...’ said Will, looking at Bree doubtfully.

‘She needs you to snap her out of this,’ Bree said quietly in Will’s ear. ‘She’s going to have to push this baby out soon, and she needs to be strong and focused for that.’

‘But...’

‘No buts, Will. You gotta play bad cop for a while.’

Will looked down at Lou’s downcast head, rubbing his chin against her hair, the shorn strip prickly against his face. She felt so good in his arms. So right. She belonged there, and the fact that she was leaning on him, that she needed him, was an acknowledgement of their special bond.

He didn’t want to be the bad guy again.

He looked at Bree. Don’t make me do this. But he saw the determination in her eyes, and as a doctor he knew she was right. Lou had the hardest part ahead of her.

‘Lou,’ he said, kissing her forehead, his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back slightly. ‘Come on, Lou. Time to stop crying.’

Lou eased her grip on his shirt as a contraction passed. ‘It’s so unfair, Will,’ she cried, not caring that her eyes were red or her nose was running, and she was sniffling and snorting like a toddler with the flu.

‘I know, I know,’ he said.

‘I just want to curl up in a ball and cry for ever,’ she wailed.

‘I know. But you can’t. You’ve got a job to do,’ he said gently, smoothing her damp fringe off her face.

She shook her head, more tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘I don’t want the job any more. I just want to wallow for a while. Please?’

He chuckled. ‘No, Lou, you can’t. Baby first,’ he said firmly.

Lou heard the chuckle and felt irrationally annoyed that he found this remotely funny. That he found her funny. She pushed herself away from him and paced to the other end of the room. ‘Go to hell,’ she said. ‘Last time I checked you weren’t the one pushing out your dead sister’s baby.’

Will blinked. Her anger was palpable. He looked at Bree, and she urged him on with a nod. ‘No. I’m not,’ he said. ‘But you are.’

‘Oh, really?’ she snapped, staring down at her very large abdomen. ‘Is that what this is doing here? I hadn’t noticed.’

‘Lou -’ He stepped closer.

‘Don’t come near me,’ she said, holding her hand up to prevent him coming closer. She wiped angrily at the tears on her cheeks.

Anger — that was good. Better than tears, right? ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he said. ‘But you need to stay focused.’

‘Don’t darling me,’ she sneered. ‘Since when have I ever been your darling?’

Will looked at Bree, who nodded some more to encourage him to keep going. ‘You’re doing well,’ she mouthed.

He damn well hoped so, now that she was airing all their dirty laundry in front of her.

Lou stared at him, waiting for his answer. He looked as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. Good. ‘I mean, did you really ever love me?’ Lou demanded.

Suddenly she wasn’t sure. He’d told her last week that he still did, but now, with his chin-up-darling routine, she was forced to confront the fact that maybe he’d only told her what she’d wanted to hear.

It was Will’s turn to feel caught in the headlights. He didn’t want to have to defend his feelings for her like this. He sighed. ‘You know I did Lou. I still do.’

‘Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it,’ she said. She felt another contraction building and braced herself. ‘Damn it,’ she wailed, leaning forward over the bed, centring her weight on her rigid outstretched arms. She was too angry to cry over the vice-like grip cramping her abdomen.

Will moved forward automatically, but halted abruptly at her vehement, ‘No! Don’t you dare come near me.’

Will looked at Lou, isolated in her pain, and then at Bree, miserably. Thanks a lot.

‘I’ll give you guys some privacy,’ the midwife said. ‘I’ll be just outside if you need me.’

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