Page 23 of The Golden Hour

“I know,” he says, lifting his chin as he heads toward the board for his next case.

Nurse Ellen gives him a dry look while handing him the energy drink he left up at her desk earlier.

“Thank you, Ellen,” he grins. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Don’t blow smoke up my ass. This is not a break room,” she scolds him. “Keep your shit off my desk.”

Mason gives her a pout that just makes her glare sharpen.

“Come on, Ellen, you know I’m your favorite⁠⁠—”

“Your wife is my favorite,” her face melts into a fond smile—the natural reaction when Honey is mentioned. “How’s she doing? Did she like the blanket?”

Mason winces as he drains the rest of his energy drink. The gift Ellen had for him was actually for Daisy, a blanket Ellen crocheted herself—gold in color, with Daisy’s name stitched into it.

It’s still in the backseat of his car.

“She’s doing great,” Mason lies with a smile, ignoring the twisting in his gut. “She loved the blanket. Thank you.”

Ellen’s dark eyes peer at him, and the expression shows that she knows he’s full of shit. Ellen’s worked in this hospital the longest out of everyone, and he’s half convinced she’s a mind reader.

“Mhm... make sure you send me pictures of Daisy in it,” she says.

His gut clenches even more when he nods.

Ever since his encounter with Dana two weeks ago, thinking of the pregnancy shakes him. He’s had vivid nightmares of a grown-up Daisy giving him that same look. Of Honey with another man. Of them only communicating through parenting apps. No more inside jokes and secret smiles and sweet kisses.

His entire life crumbling into nothing.

And the worst part is, he wants to change.

For the last two weeks, he’s tried to leave on time when his shift is done. And then six rolls around, and if he doesn’t end on a win, he stays until he does. Sometimes till eight. Sometimes till even nine. He just can’t leave until he gets that one more win.

Like an addict.

That thought has been appearing more and more lately too. So he does what he normally does—he pushes it deep. He doesn’t think he’d like the diagnosis if he looked too closely.

“Dr. Carpenter,” the voice from his right makes him tense. His eyes flick briefly toward Dr. Lewis standing there. She gives him a grin before turning toward the board. “Cherry picking?”

“Nope,” he says, tossing his can in the trash, mostly to have a reason to step away from her. “Just sent a STEMI up to surgery.”

“Ooh fun,” she gushes, stepping closer to him. “You’ll have to call me over next time. I’d love to learn from⁠⁠—”

“Lewis, I got a kid with a broken arm in Central 9,” Ellen cuts her off sharply, handing her an iPad. “Been waiting a while, so… skedaddle.”

Dr. Lewis’ smile tightens as she practically snatches the iPad. She opens her mouth to say something to Mason, but Ellen clears her throat loudly and gives Dr. Lewis a move your ass now look.

When she’s gone, Mason turns to Ellen to thank her, but she beats him to it.

“Does she know you’re married?”

“She does,” Mason sighs. “I had to make that very clear the other day in the locker room.”

Ellen narrows her eyes. “What did she say?”

“She propositioned me for…” Mason trails off, glancing around and then giving Ellen a significant look.

“And what did you say?” Ellen shouts a little too loudly, eyes flaming.