Page 30 of Healed Hearts

Guilt seizes my chest, his words hitting me like a physical blow. Holden moves lightning fast until he’s standing between me and the doctor. “Her folate levels are within normal range. Whatever is causing this is not that. You’ve got it wrong.”

The doctor peers down his nose at Holden, but he doesn’t back down or flinch away. “No. If they were normal, she wouldn’t be in this situation. Clearly, you read the results wrong.”

“Excuse me?” Holden asks, disbelief creeping into his tone. “Iread the results wrong? No. I just had her re-tested. The lab already has the results back to us, and her levels are back within the normal range. They have been for over a week. Her hemoglobin and hematocrit, however, are incredibly low.”

“Give me the chart,” Dr. Mays says, holding out his hand impatiently. He mutters something under his breath that I don’t hear at all, but Holden must because he lets out a cold, terrifying laugh.

“I’mincompetent?Youhad a full medical history on this child. You knew her eating habits. Sure, the folate came back low. But it was minimally low at best. Nothing that would have even pinged my radar unless it was a result we had gotten multiple weeks in a row. Something else is going on here, and you want to deny it and insinuate that my patient’s father is a liar?”

He hands over the chart, and the doctor looks it over for a couple of seconds before closing it and turning a glare on Holden. “She needs time for her body to come back online.”

Holden laughs again. “Absolutely not. Something deeper is happening here. You know it, and I know it. You’re seriously going to stand here in front of me and push the narrative that low folate levels two weeks ago that have been within normal range for over a week are the cause of her needing a blood transfusion? With all due respect, I think the fuck not.”

Oh, lord. He is fuckingfierce. And more than that, he’s fiercely defendingmy daughter. He’s standing toe to toe with this asshole doctor, not even fucking flinching, hands on his hips like he’s daring this guy to make one move in the wrong direction. My heart is pounding in a way that has fuck all to do with anxiety and everything to do withhim.

The doctor rolls his eyes. “Then what do you think we should do?”

“Um, how about your fucking job?” Holden says, absolute disdain dripping from his voice. Dr. Mays sneers down at him for a second and then turns on his heel, leaving the room. If I wasn’t watching Holden so closely, I’d miss the way his shoulders drop the second the doctor clears the door, all the fight leaving him at once.

He stands motionless for a second, but then he turns the light off and walks toward me. I have no idea what the expression on my face is, but if it’s showing any of the emotions inside me, he’sgot a front-row seat to the awe and fucking admiration I have for him right now.

“Can I sit?” he asks quietly, and I nod rapidly.

He sits down beside me, so close I can feel the heat of his body and smell the citrusy scent that seems to live under his skin. I breathe in deeply, trying to commit it to memory without looking like a creep. He sits stiffly for a second, but then he moves his leg, so slightly I barely register it until it’s pressed against mine. His body seems to relax, and he draws in a deep breath. My stomach does a violent flip as the warmth from his body seeps into my skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“What for?” I whisper back.

“I shouldn’t have yelled like that.” He turns his face toward me, so I turn mine too. Our eyes connect and a small smile lights up his face. He looks fucking exhausted, and guilt tries to burrow its way under my skin.

“Thank you for everything,” I say. “I shouldn’t have called you.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m glad you did.”

He turns his gaze back to the monitors, scooting a little closer until his arm is pressed against mine. My heart skips a beat, but I try hard to act unaffected. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I have no interest in asking him to stop. I turn my attention back to Wren. “Do you think she’s going to be okay?” I ask.

He sighs. “The transfusion will help, but we need to figure out why she needed it to begin with.”

“Is it… is it my fault?” I ask quietly.

“No,” he answers. “It’s not your fault. You did everything right.”

We sit in silence for a while. The steady beep of Wren’s heart rate and the blood pressure machine going off are the only sounds in the room. I startle when Holden lays his head on myupper arm, his wavy hair tickling my skin. He doesn’t speak, though, so neither do I. I just keep my eyes trained on Wren, trying not to move a muscle. He doesn’t move, either.

A few minutes later, Holden’s breathing evens out and his head relaxes further on my arm. My breath catches in my throat, my mouth going dry at the fact that he fell asleep on me. Again.

I hold Wren’s hand, watching her relaxed face, and soak in the feel of Holden sleeping on me until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.

I jolt awake at the sound of Wren’s voice. She’s sitting up in bed, staring at me. There’s color to her cheeks again, and the exhausted cast that has been in her eyes for weeks has almost completely lifted. I start to stand when a groan sounds from my lap. I freeze, glancing down to see a head full of wavy brown hair. Oh hell. Holden’s head is tucked against my thigh, his face buried in my stomach, dead asleep. His legs are stretched out over the arm of the small couch, dangling in the air in what looks like an unnatural, uncomfortable position.

He nuzzles into my stomach and a wave of heat rushes through my body.

Wren giggles. “Holden sleeping, Daddy.”

I chuckle, so fucking relieved to hear that sound, and lift my gaze to her. “Yeah, he sure is. How are you feeling?” I ask her.

“Hungry,” she answers.

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