Page 52 of The Grumpy Doc's Surprise Delivery

“About the doctor.”

I peer over my shoulder as inconspicuously as I can. Phoebe’s face falls in confusion. “Liam? Why would I tell you about…?” She trails off as her face lights up with recognition and understanding. “Liam? This isthatLiam? Your Liam?”

“He’s notmine,” Emma hisses, and hearing her anger is like a sting. I let her down, badly.

“How was I meant to know they were the same person? It’s not like it’s an uncommon name.”

That’s the moment I decide to take my leave. I don’t acknowledge them or even look. I can’t exactly show that I was listening to what was meant to be a private conversation.

It shouldn’t surprise me that Emma told her best friend all about me, but knowing that she probably painted me out to be a really awful person doesn’t fill me with joy. I won’t let it affect my work — I can’t. But I can’t help but wonder what Phoebe thinks of me now.

I head to the kitchen and get myself a glass of water. I’ve been here once before, when I came to scope out the house and check that everything was going to be in place for the birth. Phoebe and Tom have a great home, bright and stylish, and I just know they’re going to be great parents.

And with Emma around, that kid is going to be just fine.

Another twinge of pain hits my chest. I don’t want this lifestyle for myself; I never have. But Emma does. I could have had it with her.

I could have had anything with her, and she could have made me believe in it. She’s that kind of person. She makes you want to be better.

And that’s why I stopped talking to her. I couldn’t deal with the person I was becoming. I’m happy being in misery.

This realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Have I thrown away the best thing I could have ever had for the sake of being in my comfortable, grumpy bubble?

“Liam?” Emma says as she steps into the kitchen, snapping me out of my thoughts. I wheel around to face her, and for a second, her standing there with her hair in her face and her brown eyes full of worry is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. “Could you come through? I think she’s entering the second stage.”

“I’m coming,” I say.

Whatever my petty grievances are, they’re not important now. The baby is coming.

I rush after Emma and together, we jump to work. Emma sits by Phoebe and holds her hand, calming her down and telling her what to do to make it easier while I measure her vitals and make sure that I have everything in order.

Emma was right — of course she was. This is going to be a long process, but Phoebe’s getting closer to the end. I’m not anticipating any issues, so all we’re going to be here for is support and making sure she has everything she needs for this to go smoothly.

The hours fly by, Emma and I falling into a rhythm, preempting what the other will need. We work without ego, doing everything we need to do for Phoebe. At the end of the day, she and the baby are all that matters. I don’t have time to think about what a good team Emma and I are, how easily all the pieces fall into place around us.

Later, I might let myself linger on it, but right now I have a patient. Personal problems can wait.

“Push, Phoebe,” I say. “You’re nearly there.”

She groans, her forehead shining with sweat.

“You’re so close,” I promise. “Just a little more.”

Phoebe cries out, gritting her teeth. All I can do is watch, monitor, prepare. I am just the doctor here. She’s the one doing the hard work.

Then, in a flash, the hours of pain are worth it as the baby slips out and takes her first breaths in the world. Almost automatically, I catch the baby, swaddle her up, and wipe her face. She has her mother’s nose already, and I have no doubt that when she opens her eyes, they’ll be the same shining green.

“Here, hold her,” I say, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. Phoebe, tears streaming down her face, reaches out for her baby and clutches the bundle to her chest, her eyes full of the brightest love that I could hope to see.

For a second, I catch Emma’s eye. She almost looks sad, and I almost ask why. Then we both turn our attention back to Phoebe, and I wonder if she’s thinking about the same thing as me. That this is a truly perfect scene.

And that I’ve lost the potential for a happy life by losing Emma.

CHAPTER 27

EMMA

Despite how long the birth takes, it’s thankfully uncomplicated. And when the baby finally arrives, she seems healthy and happy. She’s beautiful. Already, I can see Phoebe and Tom in her.

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