Page 78 of Shark’s Rise

“Mr. Shark!” Dr. Sanford’s scold was so brutal, I wondered if we shared some distant Shark DNA. “Lower your voice. Now look at your wife’s face. Look. At. Her. Is your yelling making her feel better or worse?”

“We’re not married.” Abbigail rasped it with even wider eyes. Her unshed tears filled every space inside those bright green orbs. Why she zeroed in on that specific fact was beyond me. Of all the things happening…

“I’m sorry, dear.” The obstetrician rubbed Abbi’s arm. “That was habit. I know the situation, and I misspoke.” The doctor looked at me, disappointment etching her frown lines into deeper grooves around her mouth and eyes. “And look at how easy that was for me to do,” she bit out, as if telling me to eat my peas or go to bed hungry.

“How…easy…what?” I finally uttered. Couldn’t the woman just spit this shit out? What was I missing here?

“Can I speak to you out in the hall, please?”

I blinked some more but not in any more bafflement. Now the real panic was setting in. Holy shit. What was really going on here? I loathed the thought of leaving Abbi’s side, but the insistent look on Julie’s face made it clear we were going to have a little chat. In the corridor. Right now, dammit.

“Baby, we’ll be right outside the door.” I fumbled around her bed, looking for the nurse call button, and then jammed it into her delicate hand like a maniac. “If you need anything, just press that and someone will come. Okay? Abbi? Okay?”

“Sebastian!” Abbigail’s plaintive tone pulled me up short. “Stop! Go with Dr. Julie.”

“Mr. Shark?” The doctor stood at the door, nodding toward the hall beyond the heavy panel she had propped open. Once I followed her out, she led the way through an unmarked door not far away. The small room on the other side had just a round table with four upholstered chairs arranged around it, as well as a water cooler with a stack of paper cups perched on top.

“Let’s sit down, shall we? My feet are killing me. Breaking in some new tennis shoes, and it hasn’t been going well.” She smiled halfheartedly, but at least she didn’t launch right into the lecture.

And I knew I was in for one. Likely deserved it, too.

No. Fuck that!

I had every right to be pissed right now. And to make myself heard about why. “You know,” I said, “I told her not to overdo it. Did Abbigail tell you that part of the story? That I had every right to be scared out of my mind about her health, after what happened during her first trimester? That I warned her that she was taking on too much with that damn party? Not just any party either. Those were the most demanding clients on the planet, and she was so insistent on being involved up to the last detail.”

“I know,” the doctor said, folding her hands atop the table. “And I’m sure that you did.” She reached under the table and rubbed one of her ankles. “Damn. That feels good.”

“A month ago, when they were planning and planning, I could tell this event was going to be too much for her to be dealing with. I asked her to get more help for the night of the party.”

“Ughhh.” Sanford looked down at her feet again. “Honestly, I think I’m going to have blisters.”

Is she even listening to me?

“I told Abbigail not to push herself, not to endanger the baby or herself—”

“Maybe I should’ve gotten the next bigger size…”

“Dr. Sanford. Are you hearing a word I’m saying?”

She narrowed her eyes.

And I knew, in the blink of mine, that she had heard me. “You make it impossible not to, Mr. Shark.”

I shuttled my head back between my shoulders. Pressed my fingertips into the tabletop. “What the hell are you—”

“You talk endlessly. About the same thing. Over and over. To be honest with you, Mr. Shark, my feet don’t even hurt. I’ve been doing this for years. I know better than to break in new sneakers while I’m on rotation.” Julie got up, strode to the water cooler, and filled a cup for herself as well me. As she shoved the Styrofoam at me, she went on. “But I pulled this ridiculous mental game to prove a point to you. Except you’re so obsessed with proving yours, which of course, is how right you are and continue to be, that you couldn’t even realize how obnoxious I was being until it got so far out of hand.”

I let the cup of water sit there. I wasn’t sure if she was actually being nice about the drink or was about to pull a Yoda and order me to stand on one foot with the thing balanced atop my head. “All right. I’m a little lost here.”

“Of course you are.” The doctor sat back down again and looked at me for a long moment. “This is Abbigail’s first pregnancy, and you nagging her endlessly about what she should be doing and not doing—none of which is actually going to make her do it, by the way—isn’t helping. How do you not see that?”

A new expression took over her face. Remarkably, I was able to identify it. I knew disapproval when I saw it. My father had always made damn sure of that—with his belt, his bottle, or the back of his hand.

“You’ve been so worried about being right about everything that you didn’t see what was important to her. And whether you understood why that party’s success was important to her or not, you missed what she needed from you. Even though it was right in front of your face, man.” She took a sip of water while her words sank in. “You need to plug into your woman and her needs. Right now. Stop being so damn focused on yourself.”

I huffed. Screw that. I went ahead and growled. “I have no idea what—”

“Of course you don’t,” she quipped and took a brisk sip of her water. “But I have news for you. A baby is coming. Your baby. And that little human is going to change your life in ways you can’t even imagine.”