didn’t know about the baby,” she confessed into his already soaked scrub top.
“It’ll be okay, Chloe. You are okay,” he murmured in reassurance.
“It’s not okay. How could I not have known about my own child?”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
No, it wouldn’t have. A child between them wouldn’t have changed Tate’s mind or his feelings toward her. “I didn’t deserve a baby.”
“You didn’t deserve any of this.”
“Didn’t I?” She had done the unthinkable. She had fallen in love and slept with her best friend’s ex, who the morning after had found her lacking. The only reason Tate was here now was because he felt sorry for her, but to be honest not more sorry than she felt for herself.
He pulled her gently away from his shoulder, reaching up to cradle her face in his hands. “No, Chloe, you didn’t.”
She wished she could believe him. She had never put much stock in karma before—you couldn’t when you spent your life treating people you were sure didn’t deserve what was happening to them. But now she wasn’t sure.
She felt fresh tears forming in her eyes at the pain of her thoughts and from staring into Tate’s eyes too much. He really looked as if he cared for her. If only that was the case.
She felt his lips press against the dampness of her cheek before she was once again tucked into his arms and held tightly. She didn’t know how long they stayed like that. She didn’t even remember him leaving. But when she woke he was gone.
Post-operative day two was excruciating. Everything felt like a struggle. First thing in the morning a nurse had come to help her “dangle’, which had basically turned into a torture exercise of being forced to sit upright with her legs dangling off the bed, maintaining her balance. She’d lasted for less than five minutes and then slept for the next three hours to recover. When she woke Kate was there, propped in a bedside chair reading a heavy hardcover text that almost completely covered her. She was comforted by her friend’s presence.
“Hey,” Chloe greeted her, watching as Kate’s focus shifted and she herself was assessed by the good surgeon.
“You look better,” Kate said reassuringly.
“That’s not saying much,” she replied, still having to work to keep her eyes open.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Kate asked tentatively.
She hadn’t thought about much in the last twenty-four hours, but what she had thought about, other than Tate and the loss of their baby, was what was she going to tell Kate?
Kate—her best friend, the person she had been closest with during the past decade. She couldn’t lie, but how much of the truth was too much? Especially when the explanation for how she had gotten to this day was unexplainable even to herself.
“I had an ectopic pregnancy that ruptured.” Nothing had prepared her for what she saw in Kate’s face. She wasn’t even sure she had been that surprised.
“I didn’t realize you were in a relationship,” was all Kate managed after minutes of silence.
Beyond the words she could see the hurt in her friend’s eyes. The thought that Chloe had been keeping something from her was painful for Kate.
“I’m not, Kate.” Truer words were never spoken.
“Oh.”
She knew that Kate was not going to ask her more, but felt she owed her friend more of an explanation. “I slept with someone a few weeks ago. It was a mistake. It didn’t work out.”
Kate didn’t respond immediately. She seemed to be processing the information until her look of surprise was replaced by one of understanding. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” And she was. A lifetime spent thinking about the man you loved who’d got away would have been better than the crash-and-burn drama that had unfolded with Tate.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t suppose I can convince you to help bust me out of here?” she asked faint-heartedly, realizing that she likely couldn’t even make it as far as the elevator right now.
“No, sorry. No chance of that happening. Try again.”
“I would love my own clothes and stuff to take a shower.”
“That I can do. So you’ll be wanting your make-up and finest lingerie, then?”
Kate winked at her and Chloe was grateful for the lightening of their conversation.
“Definitely. Goes great with these disposable mesh underwear I am ashamed to admit are surprisingly comfortable.”
“Is it hard being a patient?”
“Yes, but I haven’t figured out what is worse: feeling helpless or being a patient where I work.”
It was the truth. She was so used to doing, to being active, multi-tasking, and now she couldn’t perform the simplest of tasks for herself and was dependent on people she was used to impressing with her abilities. It was hard to be this vulnerable.
“It is a big change, but the first couple of days are the worst. By tomorrow you’ll be moving around a bit more and you will be home in a few days.”
“Not soon enough.” She waited for a while, trying to decide if she really wanted to know the answer to her next question. “Does everyone know?”
“No. The story around the emergency department and amongst some of the other services is that you had a hemorrhagic ovarian cyst. I think the residents in your program are planning on sending flowers. All your shifts have been covered for the next eight weeks so that you don’t have to work before the board exam.”
“Eight weeks seems like such a short and a long time all at once.”
“It’s not too long, Chloe. You need to focus on yourself for once. If you had a patient who had just gone through the same experience you would counsel her the exact same way.”
“I agree completely.”
A new voice came from behind the curtain before it was opened to reveal Ryan Callum.
“Hi,” Chloe greeted him, embarrassed again at her lack of knowledge about that night, but knowing Ryan had to have been there.
Kate rose and stared at Ryan, then at her. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll be back later this afternoon with your stuff.” Kate gave her one final look and then left, pulling the curtain and the door shut behind her.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Ryan responded, taking Kate’s now vacated chair.
“You’re not.”
“How are you feeling?”
She
