Page 25 of Doctor Do-Over

He leads me to the office, where he sits me in his big chair. Julian, Rio, and Ridley all follow us in.

“We’ve identified your attacker,” Julian says. He hands me a photo. I don’t need to take it because I can see his face clearly.

“I know him.” My head starts to swim as I clutch at my chest. “He was at the con the day I met Tanner.”

“I’ve seen him too. He was at the hospital, walking through the lobby earlier this week,” Tanner says, and I look up at him in shock.

“Browser is trying to get a bead on him. I suggest we have one of the guys stay here at the house and keep Wryan under constant guard,” Julian says.

“I agree, but what else aren’t you telling us?” Tanner asks, and I suspect I already know the answer.

“He’s not just a fan. He’s crazy—obsessed.”

“He’s the one who was Snapchatting me, isn’t he?” I ask.

“Yes,” Ridley answers.

“He wants to kill me, doesn’t he?”

“He wants to destroy you.”

I clutch at Tanner as a cramp slams into my body. I cry out and watch as Julian rushes to the door to get his sister. She is mydoctor, but she’s also a friend. She comes running into the room and straight to my side.

“Call an ambulance,” she orders the room in general.

I’m hooked up to monitors. My heart rate is erratic, and I’ve been having contractions, but nothing else is happening. Tanner is worried and pacing the floor. So much for having a sexy wedding night.

“Husband.” I hold out my hand as I call to him. He moves to the bed and slides in next to me. He holds me as I lean into him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His voice is gruff and full of emotion. He hates seeing me in pain or suffering. “I don’t know how many more times I’m going to let you go through this, kitten.”

“I want at least three kids.”

“We can adopt them.”

“Tanner, I’ll be okay,” I say, reassuring him.

His eyes are intense as he takes me in. “Promise?”

“Yes.” I let my eyes drift closed and settle in for a nap. I need to rest as I prepare for our baby’s birth.

Twelve

TANNER

It’s been two days of monitoring her and the baby, and still no progress. She contracts regularly, but her cervix isn’t cooperating. I’m frustrated, and watching the exhaustion take over my wife is making my anger simmer.

As Wryan takes another catnap, I step out into the hallway while her mother sits with her. Dr. Harker and the OB/GYN are standing nearby, deep in conversation.

“Something has to give. I’m tired of watching her body slip further into exhaustion.” I interrupt them.

“Dr. Bleacher, I completely agree. So does Dr. Jones. We’ve decided to perform a C-section. I know Wryan doesn’t want that, but we have little choice here. The problem with connective tissue disorders is that the connective tissues don’t always cooperate with what we want. A cervix is that, a connective tissue, as you know. It’s not dilating the way it should. She’s been sitting at two centimeters for a couple of days. I don’t want to break her water and have her go through that. It has to be a C-section.”

“I agree.” I sigh loudly and return to the room.

The doctors follow me in and explain the situation to her. As the nurses come in moments later to prep her for surgery, she begins to cry.

I take her hand in mine. “Kitten, it will be okay. This is the best thing for you both. Neither of you can handle going through contractions with nothing happening to your cervix much longer.”

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