Page 65 of Stone Vows

Grant.

I’ve never despised a name so much.

Grant, her husband or boyfriend. Grant, the father of her child.

“Dr. Stone?” one of the nurses says, bringing my attention to the fact that I’m standing at the wrong end of our patient.

I look down at Elizabeth to see that she’s caught me staring at her wrist. But she’s too scared to care. I put a huge smile on my face as I look into her eyes. She can’t see it beneath my mask, but that’s okay, I tell her everything I need to tell her with my stare. I don’t care if the nurses see it. I don’t even care if Dr. Redman does. In this moment, I need to reassure Elizabeth that everything will be okay.

I take my position opposite Dr. Redman and watch her slice into the woman I love.

Less than two minutes later, Dr. Redman instructs me to reach in and pull out the baby. I tell Elizabeth that she will feel some tugging and pulling. I put my hand under the baby, forming a cradle for her head so I can pull her out as the nurse pushes down on Elizabeth’s abdomen. The tiny body that emerges is gooey and messy and . . . absolutely perfect.

“Elizabeth, you have a daughter,” I tell her, my voice cracking with emotion.

I can’t begin to describe how I feel being the one to bring her baby into this world. To be the first one to hold her. See her. To instantly fall in love with her perfect little face, her tiny button nose, and her matted head of dark hair.

“It’s a girl?” she asks excitedly from behind the drape.

“It’s a girl.” I suction her mouth and hand her off to the nurse. “Give us a minute and we’ll bring her over.”

The baby takes her first breath and starts crying to the smiles of everyone in the room. Elizabeth cries out in happiness when she hears her daughter’s first sounds.

I lean over the drape to look at Elizabeth. “You did great, Mom.”

“Dr. Stone, when I’m done stitching up the uterus, would you care to close?” Dr. Redman asks me.

“Absolutely.”

I’m glad she asked. If I’m great at anything, I’m great at suturing. And I’m going to make sure I do my very best work.

After the nurse finishes the first APGAR test on the baby, she puts a tiny pink hat on her head and swaddles her tightly in a blanket. She walks the baby over to Elizabeth, holding her close to Elizabeth’s face so she can see, smell and kiss her new daughter.

It kills me that I can’t be on the other side of the drape to see every nuance of Elizabeth’s face as she sees her daughter for the very first time. I want to kiss her. Cry with her. Laugh with her. Celebrate with her. I’ve never wanted anything so badly before.

I can’t see her, but I can hear her.

“Oh, my gosh. Hi, baby girl,” she says. “You’re so beautiful.”

She cries and mumbles words of love to her daughter.

After a minute, the nurse tries to take the baby away.

“Wait!” Elizabeth says, prompting the nurse to put the baby next to her head again. “I swear I will always protect you.”

Those seven words resonate in my head. Protect her from what? From the world in general? Or protect her from someone in particular? Protect her fromGrant.

My blood boils. Maybe she wasn’t kicked out or left by the baby’s father after all. Maybe she’s running from him.

Fuck.

I have so many questions I want to ask her. But she’s lying on the operating table, literally exposed to me right now. And she just had a baby. I need to give her time. She’ll be emotional. She’ll need to bond with the baby.

But then—then I’m going to get answers.

“We’ll wash her up and have our pediatric resident check her out,” the nurse tells her. “By the time you are back in your room, we’ll probably have her all ready for you.”

Another nurse puts an ID tag on Elizabeth’s wrist. “The baby has one just like it on her ankle. It’s to make sure we know who she belongs to.”

---