Page 105 of Under His Guard

But I’m not sure how many of them were single doctors in their residency.

And that’s a big part of the problem. My job and relationship status isn’t exactly conducive to raising little kids right now.

Maybe if this would have happened down the line, it would have been an easy decision.

I’m not there, though. I’m still just a resident with crazy hours and no guarantee I’ll make attending at the hospital where I currently work.

The hours are insane, and I have to push myself as hard as possible to keep up. I’m working toward a cardiac specialty, for fuck’s sake, and having to call off because I have a newborn is…

You’re obsessing.

Sighing, I pull my knees tighter against my chest. According to the test results, I’m less than a week along.

I have time to decide what I want to do.

Hormonal brains are assholes, though, apparently, because just when I think I might be able to fall asleep, I see a vision of Luke behind my lids.

He’s smiling, holding a baby in his arms.

“Fucking hell.”

I roll over, trying to dislodge the image by changing my position. It goes away, but I’m still left with the thought.

I think I might have liked raising a family with Luke.

I might have loved it.

But he’s not in the picture now, so that’s obviously not going to happen, and as much as the image did seem nice, the one where I lose my job to care for a baby does not.

Nor does the one where I raise a kid who hates me because I subconsciously resent it or because I’m not home enough because of my career.

As seems to be the case, my thoughts don’t help me. I’m no closer to knowing what I want to do after several more rounds of what-ifs.

The room gets darker as the sun dips behind the buildings. I don’t bother turning on a light.

Sleep is really the only thing I do know I want right now, so I let the darkness lull me into unconsciousness.

I still have work in the morning. And Beth’s surgery the following day. Life goes on, and it’s not slowing down so I can make a decision.

My tension eases, my limbs grow heavy, and I know sleep is just a few more moments away.

At least I can count on that.

* * *

A scratching sound at the door stirs me out of my restless sleep.

I’ve heard nearly every noise a person could imagine as I lie here, and I know I’m going to need all the damn coffee when morning officially arrives.

But when the scratching sounds again, I realize it’s much closer than the other dozens of unfamiliar noises keeping me up.

There’s something faintly…plastic about it, so I get up from the bed and start walking around the room.

The bathroom and the small counter just outside of it are clear. Nothing funky coming from in there.

As the noise stops, I turn and face the door. That way?

My heart is in my throat, pounding away as my stomach clenches.

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