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‘Fine.’ Sally clicked her tongue again. ‘Just think about it, okay? I think you and the doc made a great couple. And I don’t like to see her so miserable.’
‘Goodbye, Sally,’ Max said firmly, ushering her out and closing the door behind her with relief. But the thoughts still crowded into his head, as if Sally had jimmied the floodgates open and now he couldn’t secure them back again.
When it was time to scrub in for his next surgery, he’d never felt so relieved. He desperately needed something else on which to focus all his energy.
* * *
He was a first-class jackass.
It was Max’s first thought as he walked out of the OR to scrub out several hours later. The operation had gone better than he could have planned, yet the only thing on his mind was getting out of here, climbing into his car and going to win Evie back.
Sally was right, even though she didn’t know it.
He’d been prepared to forgive his parents for the way they had approached Evie because they assumed he was like them—that his career would be more important to him than his daughter ever could.
They couldn’t have been more wrong, and yet he was prepared to forgive them.
Yet Evie, who had tried to protect her own daughter in exactly the same way, was bearing the brunt of his anger. Because he loved her, and so she had an ability to hurt him far more than anyone else ever would.
He was punishing her for being the kind of mother, the kind of partner, he most wanted her to be. The kind who was passionate about those she cared for, and wasn’t afraid to show it.
Now he had to show her that he could be the same way. Because Evie—and indeed Imogen—were integral to his happiness, and it was time to bring them home. If they’d let him.
Grabbing the quickest shower of his life, Max dressed and headed to his office.
His phone rang as he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for his car, but he ignored it. It didn’t matter who it was, he couldn’t afford to be distracted. All that mattered was getting to Evie, as fast and as safely as he possibly could.
It was only when he was outside Annie’s house, plunged into pitch-blackness, when he retrieved his phone to call Evie and find out just where she was, that he saw the missed call was from Annie.
With uncharacteristically shaky hands, he punched the redial button and waited for the call to pick up.
As he listened to the calm but concise voice on the other end, he felt his whole world fall apart.
‘I only saw Evie a few days ago, how can she be showing signs of B-cell rejection?’
* * *
Evie heard his voice, thick with emotion, through Annie’s speakerphone.
‘How can she be showing signs of B-cell rejection?’
Evie shifted in the hospital chair, trying not to let herself react to the tone of his voice. His evident concern was heartening but it was only natural given how much he had grown to care for his daughter and therefore, by extension, Evie as Imogen’s mother. Such concern didn’t mean he forgave her, or that he loved her.
‘Overnight she started coming down with flu-like symptoms, aching around the kidney site, and she had increased urine output.’
Evie heard Annie try to deliver the information in as clipped a tone as she could over the phone, trying to control her emotions in order to stay businesslike. It was so un-Annie-like that Evie couldn’t help a weak smile
of affection at the effort her sister-in-law was trying to go to, just to keep Max informed without asking the question she was clearly dying to ask.
Are you going to come down and see her?
A part of Evie longed to ask the same question herself, but she knew what Max’s answer would be and she didn’t think she could take another rejection.
‘Do they know for sure it’s rejection?’ he demanded sharply over the speakerphone.
‘They performed some tests and the creatinine test showed rejection was likely so they’ve performed a core biopsy.’
‘Is she on bed rest in the outpatients whilst they wait for the results?’
