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I’m left alone for at least an hour. There’s no clock in the hospital room, so it’s impossible to tell. I’m surprised A-Ma isn’t back already. When the door opens again, I half expect it to be her.
Instead, I see Dr. Philips’s distinct red locks.
“Hello, it’s me,” she says in a singsong kind of way. “I managed to get the lab work done faster than I thought.”
I keep the hope welling up inside me in check.
Does this mean I get to go home now?
Dr. Philips browses through the charts she’s brought in with her. “As I suspected, it looks like your blood sugar is really low, which can lead to fainting spells. I’m going to keep you overnight for observation to make sure you’re not suffering from a concussion. Sometimes the symptoms sneak up on you. But if you’re all good by morning, I’ll send you on your merry way.”
“Thank you, Doctor. That’s good to hear.”
“I’ll be sure to tell the nurses to bring you a larger helping tonight. You’re eating for two, after all.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “I beg your pardon?”
She points to the document in her hand like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Your blood test. It shows a high level of hCG in your blood. It’s not normally something we screen for, but your mother mentioned you’d been throwing up all morning prior to fainting, so that had me curious”
“I have no idea what that means.”
Dr. Philips looks perplexed. “I’m so sorry. I thought you knew.”
I’m this close to throwing my hands up in the air. “Knew what?”
“You’re pregnant.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Nate
I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. Anxiety and me, we aren’t a thing.
I don’t do anxious.
I’m a doctor, for fuck’s sake. I can’t afford to be a walking bundle of nerves. When people are in trouble, they come running to me for help. In intense situations, I’m the one who has to stay calm and collected. A lighthouse standing against stormy seas.
But when nobody’s telling me what’s going on, when I have to sit there in the waiting room for hours not knowing if Eve’s all right—it’s too much. I arrived at the hospital mere minutes after Eve supposedly arrived. I’m a kettle on a stove that’s boiling over, but nobody’s remotely interested in taking me off the heat.
I’m used to hospitals. The smell, the sounds, the general lack of staff and overabundance of patients and worried loved ones. New York General is my home field, a place where I’m comfortable and at the top of my game. But this rinky-dink small-town excuse of a hospital? Just looking around at the watermarks on the ceiling tiles is enough to get me worried about contracting an infection.
It’s obvious the place is underfunded. The nurses are scarce, the doctors an even rarer sight. I can tell just by looking around the waiting room that Haven General Hospital has seen better days. The chairs they’ve got set up in messy rows are all worn down, the ugly pistachio green padding fraying in corners and peeling. There’s a slight yellow tinge to the outdated flower-patterned wallpaper. The vending machine humming noisily in the corner has been kicked several times, as evidenced by the dents near the base.
There’s a child crying two rows behind me, shrieking at the top of his little lungs. The infant’s mother is completely checked out, patting the baby on the back mindlessly as she stares off into the distance. A chorus of both wet and dry coughs fills the air. Someone groans in pain. I can’t tell if they’re hamming it up for attention or if they seriously need to see a doctor. Either way, they’re making a show of it.
Just when I don’t think I can take the wait any longer, Mrs. Lee appears from around the corner. She pulls nervously at the hem of her sweater. I immediately rise as she approaches, taken aback by how tired she looks.
“How is she?” I ask. “Is she okay? They wouldn’t let me in to see her.”
She nods. “She just woke up. Doctor seeing her now.”
I don’t realize how badly my lungs were burning for air until now. I take a deep breath, the tight knot of stress bunching up in my neck and shoulders melting away.
“Good, I’m glad. Can I see her?”
Mrs. Lee casts her eyes down. Her expression makes me want to shrink away, but I won’t.
“Come back later,” she says. “Eve say she doesn’t want see you right now.”
I keep my voice as level as possible. Mrs. Lee’s words sting, but I’m not about to show it. “Did she give a reason why?”
She shakes her head. “No. No reason. Maybe just tired.”
Disappointment hits me harder than I expect it to. Mrs. Lee might as well have picked up a brick and tossed it at me. There’s a sting in my gut, a heaviness to my ribcage.
