leaning forward and sent her plastic fork dropping back onto her tray.
Max must have seen something in her face because he shook his head. ‘No. Not yet. I think she would have told us if that message had anything to do with a donor heart.’
She sagged back into her chair. ‘I was hoping...’
‘I know. Why don’t we work on things we can control until one is available? Tell me anything else you can think of about her. The events surrounding her birth, et cetera.’
‘Are you looking for something in particular?’ She’d told him pretty much everything she knew back in the special care baby unit.
Max pulled a small notebook out of one of the pockets of his jacket. ‘I can look at her chart and get the mechanics. But tell me about her. Anything out of the ordinary that you’ve noticed that you think might help.’
She picked up her fork and pushed around a few more blueberries, not trying to really stab any of them but using the empty gesture as a way to sort through her thoughts about Hope.
‘She’s a fighter. She came into this world crying as hard as her tiny lungs would let her.’ She sucked down a quick breath. ‘Her mother didn’t even touch her. Hope was very sick and might not have survived the night, but she never asked to hold her or tried to keep us from taking her away. Maybe she already knew she was going to leave her behind and was afraid to let herself get attached.’
‘You were there when she was born.’
‘Yes. When the mum came in—already in labour—the doctor examined her. He didn’t like the way the baby’s heartbeat sounded so they did an ultrasound. They immediately saw there was a problem, so they called Sienna down.’ Annabelle gripped her fork tighter. ‘She knew as soon as she looked at the monitor that it was serious. So when she delivered there was a roomful of staff, just in case Hope coded on the table. They did a Caesarean section, trying to save the baby any undue stress during delivery.’
‘It worked. She’s still alive.’
‘Yes. But she’s all alone. Her mum has never even called to check on her. Not once.’
‘And say what?’ Max’s jaw tightened. ‘Maybe she didn’t want to have to deal with the fallout of what might happen if it all went wrong.’
‘It was her child. How could she not want to be there for her?’
‘She could have felt the baby was better off without her.’
Something about the tight way he said those words made her wonder if Max was still talking about Baby Hope and her mum, or something a little closer to home.
Had he felt she was better off without him?
Rubbish. It hadn’t been his idea to leave. It had been hers. If he’d truly loved her, he would have fought for her.
But Max had always had a hard time forming attachments, thanks to parents who did their utmost to avoid any show of affection. And those long trips they’d taken without him—leaving Max to wonder if they were ever coming back. If they missed him at all. Annabelle had cried when he’d told her in halting words the way things had been in his home. Her own family’s open affection and need to be with each other had seemed to fascinate him.
Maybe he really could understand how a mum could abandon her own child. In many ways, Max had felt abandoned. Maybe even by her, when she’d told him to leave.
She should have just given up when he’d given her that last ultimatum. But she hadn’t—she’d wanted Max to have what his parents had denied him. And when he’d found her journal... God, he’d been so furious that night. To forestall any more arguments, she’d told him to get out. The memories created a sour taste in her mouth.
‘I guess I’ll never know what her true motivation was for leaving. If I had, maybe I could have changed her mind, or at least talked her into coming back to check on Hope.’
‘She probably wouldn’t have. Come back, that is. Maybe she felt that once she walked out, there was no going back.’
This time when his eyes came up to meet hers there was no denying that he was talking about something other than their patient.
Unable to come up with anything that wouldn’t inflame the situation further, she settled for a shrug. ‘Maybe not. I guess people just have to learn to live with the consequences of their choices.’
As Annabelle had had to do.
And with that statement, she made the choice to stab her fork into the slab of chocolate cake on her plate and did her best to steer the conversation back to neutral territory. Where there was no chance of loaded statements or examining past regrets too closely.
But even as they spoke of the hospital and its patients and advances in treatment, she was very aware that nothing could ever be completely neutral as far as Max went.
So she would try to do as she’d stated and make the very best choices she could while he was here. And then learn to live with the consequences.
‘ELLA, LET’S NOT have this discussion right now.’
‘What discussion is that?’ Her best friend batted her eyes, while Annabelle’s rolled around in their sockets. ‘The prodigal returns to the scene of his crime?’
‘That doesn’t even make any sense.’
‘It doesn’t have to. So spill. I haven’t seen you since I heard the big news. Not from you, I might add. What’s up with that?’
She tried to delay the inevitable. ‘What news are you talking about?’
Ella made a scoffing sound as she leaned against the exam table. ‘That a certain ex has crashed back onto the scene.’
Crashed was a very good word for what he’d done. ‘There’s nothing to tell. He showed up yesterday at the hospital.’
‘Out of the blue? With no advance notice?’ Her friend lifted the bottle of water she held, taking a quick drink. She then grimaced.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Fine. Just a little tummy trouble. I hope I’m not coming down with whatever everyone else has. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful Christmas present?’ She twisted her lips and then shrugged. ‘Anyway, you had no idea he was coming?’
‘Of course not. I would have told you, if I’d known.’ And probably caught the next available flight out of town. Annabelle sighed, already tired of this line of questioning. When had life become so complicated? ‘I’m sure someone knew he was coming. I just never thought to ask because I never dreamed...’
‘That Max Ainsley would show up on your doorstep and beg for your forgiveness?’
‘Ella!’ Annabelle hurried over to the door to the exam room and shut it before anyone overheard their conversation. She turned back to face her friend. ‘First of all, he did not show up on my doorstep.
