and at least try to feign indifference. ‘What do you want me to tell you about her?’
‘Do you know anything about her history? Her mother?’
Annabelle filled him in on everything she could, from the fact that Baby Hope’s mother had been hooked on heroin to the fact that she’d fled the hospital soon after giving birth, staff only discovering her absence when they went in to take her vitals. They’d found her bed empty, her hospital gown wadded up under the covers. They’d called the authorities, but in the two weeks since the baby’s birth no one had come forward with any information.
The drug use had caused the baby to go through withdrawals in addition to the in-utero damage her heart had sustained. It was getting weaker by the day. In fact, every ounce she gained put more strain on it. Normally in these children, Annabelle considered weight gain something to be celebrated. Not in Hope’s case. It just meant she had that much less time to live.
‘Does any of that help?’ she asked.
‘It does. I’m going to up her dose of furosemide and see if we can get a little of that fluid off her belly. I think that’s why she stopped breathing. If it’s not any better in an hour or two, I’m going to try to draw some of it off manually.’
‘We did that a few days ago. It seemed to help.’
‘Good.’
They looked at each other for a long moment, then Max said, ‘You’ve let your hair grow.’
The unexpectedness of the observation made her blink. ‘It makes it easier to get out of the way.’
Annabelle used to tame her waves rather than pulling them back. Between blowing them out and using a straightening iron, she’d spent a lot of time on her appearance. Once Max had left, though, there’d seemed little reason to go through those contortions any more. It was only when she stopped that she realised she’d been simply going through the motions for the last half of their marriage. Having a baby had become such a priority that her every waking moment had been consumed with it. It was no wonder he’d jumped at the chance to get out. She hadn’t liked who she’d become either.
She opened her mouth to say something more, before deciding the less personal they made their interactions, the better for both of them. They’d travelled down that road once before and it hadn’t ended well. And she definitely didn’t want to give him the impression that she’d been pining for him over the past three years. She hadn’t been. She’d got well and truly over him.
‘Since you’re working here now, maybe we should set down some ground rules to avoid any sticky situations.’ She paused. ‘Unless you’d like to change your mind about staying.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I signed a contract. I intend to abide by the terms of it.’
Was that why he hadn’t moved to complete the process of terminating their union? Because he viewed their marriage as a contract rather than an emotional commitment? She’d been the one to actually file, not him.
Her throat clogged at the thought, but she pushed ahead, needing to finish their conversation so she could leave. Before the crazy avalanche of emotions buried her any deeper.
‘Most people at Teddy’s don’t know that I was married. They just assume I’m single. All except for Ella.’
Since she no longer wore her ring, it made it that much easier to assume she had no one in her life.
His brows went up. ‘Ella O’Brien?’
‘Yes.’ He would know who Ella was. They’d been best friends for years. She was very surprised her friend hadn’t got wind of Max’s arrival. Then again, maybe Annabelle would have known had she paid more attention during staff meetings. She’d known Sienna was going on maternity leave soon but had had no idea that Max was the one who’d be taking her place. Maybe because Baby Hope had taken up most of her thoughts in the last couple of weeks.
‘How is she?’
‘Ella? She’s fine.’ She looked away from him, reaching down to touch Hope’s tiny hand over the side of the still-open incubator. ‘Anyway, Ella knows about us, but, as you could see from Sienna’s reaction, that information hasn’t made its way around the hospital. I would appreciate if you didn’t go around blurting out that you’re my husband. Because you’re not. You haven’t been for the last three years.’
One side of his mouth went up in that mouth-watering way that used to make her tremble. But right now, she was desperate to put this runaway train back on its tracks.
‘I have a paper that says otherwise.’
‘And I have one that says I’m ready to be done with that part of my life.’
‘The divorce papers. I’m surprised you haven’t followed up on them with your solicitor.’
She should have had that solicitor hound Max until he signed, but she hadn’t, and she wasn’t quite sure why. ‘I’ve been busy.’
His eyes went to Hope. ‘I can see that.’
‘So you’ll keep our little...situation between us?’
‘How do you know Miss McDonald isn’t going to say something to someone?’
‘She won’t.’ Sienna was secretive enough about her own past that Annabelle was pretty sure privacy was a big deal to the other doctor.
‘And Ella? You don’t think she’ll say anything?’
‘Not if she knows what’s good for her.’ She said it with a wryness in her voice, because her friend was obstinate to the point of stubbornness about some things. But she was a good and faithful friend. She’d mothered Annabelle when she’d come to her crying her eyes out when Max had walked out of the door. No, Ella wouldn’t tell anyone.
Annabelle pulled her hand from the incubator and took a deep breath. Then she turned back to face Max again.
‘Please. Can’t we try to just work together like the professionals we are? At least for the time you’re here.’ She wanted to ask exactly how long that would be, but for now she had to assume it was until Sienna was finished with her maternity leave. If she thought of it as a finite period of time she could survive his presence. At least she hoped she could.
But she already knew she’d be seeing a lot more of him. Especially if he was going to be the doctor who either opened Hope’s chest and placed a donor heart in it or who signed her death certificate.
She closed her eyes for a second as the remembered sound of that alarm sliced through her being. How long before that sound signalled the end of a life that had barely begun?
‘I don’t know, Anna.’ His low voice caused her lids to wrench apart. ‘Can we?’
Her name on his lips sent a shiver through her, as did his words. It was the first time she’d heard the shortened version of Annabelle in three years. In fact, during their very last confrontation he’d reverted to her full name. And then he was gone.
So it made her senses go wonky to hear the drawled endearment murmured in something other than anger.
She’d
