Page 106 of When You Blush
I stop and look her dead in the eyes. “Thank you forthe offer, but I’m in a relationship. Go get those tests, and we’ll get this figured out.”
Her shoulders sag, but she nods and walks down the hall for her tests.
“Heartbreaker.”
I turn at her voice and pull Harper into my arms. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until dinner.”
“I know. It’s my lunch hour, and I missed you. So I came to hug you real quick. I know you’re busy.”
“Best part of my day,” I whisper into her ear. “Best part of every single day, sugar.”
She buries her face in my neck and holds on tight before she pulls back and grins at me.
“Same, Dr. Blackwell. I’m making you dinner tonight.”
“No way.”
“Way.”
“I’m cooking tonight, Harps. I have a plan, and I’ll get home before you. Be sure to bring an overnight bag.”
“Already packed,” she informs me. “And I get to cook next time. Or we can cook together.”
“Deal.” I press a kiss to her forehead as she walks away. “Eat something before you go back on shift.”
“Are those doctor’s orders?”
“If that’s what gets you to eat, yes.”
She laughs and turns a corner to leave the clinic, and I turn to see a smiling Hillary standing outside of room 11.
“I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. Let’s look at your test results.”
I’ve just set some chips and queso on the island when Harper walks through the front door, drops her bag on the floor, her purse on top of that, and sighs.
Her hair, which just four hours ago was in a knot on top of her head, is now floppy. Her mascara is smudged. And her lower lip is quivering.
Fuck.
After flipping off the burner, I toss the towel from my shoulder to the counter and hurry to her, scooping her up in my arms as the tears come. She buries her face in my chest, clinging to me.
“Shh.” I rock her back and forth, and my heart aches as she cries. “Aw, baby. I’m so sorry.”
I have no idea what happened, but it’s bad. And it’s rocked her to the core.
I pick her up in my arms and sit on the couch, keeping her cradled against me, and let her cry it out. After pulling her hair out of the wrecked bun, I push my fingers through it and press kisses to the top of her head.
As medical professionals, we’ve all seen horrific things. I’ve had to tell parents that their children weren’t coming home. I’ve given diagnoses that meant my patient had days, not years ahead of them. I’ve seen more blood and horror than any one person should.
And I know that it’s the same for her. For every goodoutcome, there are more that are deeply tragic. Especially when you’re dealing with medically fragile babies.
“He was so tiny,” she says in the smallest voice as the sobs start to slow down. “Not my smallest, but still. And we worked on him for what felt like hours. But he was just too small, Blake. And his parents conceived through IVF, and fucking hell, it was just so goddamn sad.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper and kiss her temple as she lifts her head. I wipe her tears away with a tissue. “That’s heartbreaking.”
“It really was. Mom almost died, too. And her poor husband was just shell-shocked, standing there likewhat am I supposed to do?I felt awful that no one could talk to him because we were too busy working on Mom and baby. Baby was born at twenty-five weeks and one day. He was twelve ounces.”
