every time he came to the ward, but he could hardly ask Administration to have her removed. A thought struck him—the perfect solution for six weeks or more.
‘You did a great job with Made, so great, in fact, that I think you should sign up for the foundation’s cleft palate tour that leaves next week.’ He tried for what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Jenny Patrick’s looking for people and you’re a natural with kids.’
She flinched as if he’d struck her. ‘I appreciate the compliment but that won’t be possible.’
No. ‘Why not?’ He heard the bark in his voice and wished he could snatch the words back because, damn it, his fear sounded the same as anger.
She blinked at him as if she couldn’t believe he’d asked her the question. ‘Because…’ Her cheeks flamed red and she twirled her ponytail tightly around her forefinger as if she was struggling to give a reason. ‘Because it’s just not possible.’ She picked up Glenda Wharton’s drug chart and slapped it against his chest. ‘Please write up some milder analgesia for her and I’ll take out the drain tubes now.’
Her expression—a combination of defiance and pain—was all too familiar and it silenced him. As much as he didn’t want to have to see Chloe every day, he didn’t want to hurt her either. While he quickly wrote the order across the page, neither of them said another word.
He got the distinct feeling both of them were battling demons they wanted to keep secret.
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