Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” I licked my lips.
She was, or at least she had a very good chance.
It’d been two minutes into CPR that she started breathing.
That tiny little body had looked so very delicate laying on that adult sized backboard.
And the needles I had in the medic weren’t small enough, so I hadn’t been able to start an IV.
The baby was a week or two, at most, and had been born at a mere four pounds in the first place. Her parents guestimated her weight to be around five pounds due to a doctor appointment they’d had earlier in the week. The girl likely had never even been out of her parents’ loving arms.
“The parents get here yet?” I asked roughly.
She nodded, pointing to a car that was parked haphazardly in the ER drop off.
“Just got here when you came out the side door.”
I nodded my head almost automatically.
“Let’s go.”
I got up, ignoring the sympathetic glances from my colleagues, and got into the passenger seat.
Naomi, not even questioning this, got into the driver’s seat, adjusted the settings, and put it into drive.
We arrived at the station five minutes later, and I was out and moving toward the door before she’d even put it into park.
I didn’t bother to think she’d leave me be, though, which was why I left my bedroom door open before I took a seat on the bed and dropped my head into my hands.
My eye throbbed, but I didn’t care.
I needed the pain. Needed the proof that I was going to continue to live.
“Was that your first baby?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“No,” I muttered. “Fourth.”
I remembered each and every time I had a call on an infant. Three of them hadn’t made it. Two of them had died from SIDS, and one of them was an accidental drowning in the bathtub when her mother left her to check on the dinner that was cooking.
This little girl was lucky to be alive, and I was grateful that I didn’t have to experience the loss of an infant patient for a fourth time.
“That was terrible,” she murmured, pushing my hands lightly.
I took the hint and moved my arms, freeing up my lap, and she dropped into it, straddling me and wrapping me in her arms.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I shuddered.
“I’ll be okay,” I muttered. “Just hits me hard.”
She pressed a kiss to my temple, just above my stitches.
“So…does it hurt now?”
I bit my lip, then started to laugh lightly.
“Yeah, it hurts like a bitch.”
Funnily enough, I wasn’t sure if I was talking about my head or my heart.
Chapter 17
I just want to lay in a pile of warm laundry and eat bread.
-Text from Naomi to Sean
Sean
“Sean.”
“Yeah, babe?” I asked, sitting back on my bike and holding it steady with just the power of my legs.
“Have you gotten to the store yet?”
I shook my head. “No. I met a buddy in the parking lot, and we got to BS-ing. What’s up?”
I waved my friend off, someone I’d known since high school, and he gave me a two-finger salute before heading inside the grocery store to do his own shopping.
Her voice tremored. “Brady’s not here. He’s never not here.”
My brows rose.
“That’s surprising,” I admitted. The man was always on time. In fact, he was always early. “Did you call him?”
“Yes,” she answered quickly. “I called him about ten times. He’s not answering. And I know he didn’t forget. He has impeccable timing and remembers everything that I ever say, most of the time using it against me at a later date.”
I snorted.
“I’ll go check on him, babe,” I murmured. “Start your walk. If I find him, I’ll send him your way.”
“Okay, but if you need to get inside his house, he said there’s a key right inside the garage underneath an old golf bag.” She blew out a breath. “I don’t even know what to do with myself. I feel lost.”
“Go walk,” I repeated. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”
“Okay,” she breathed. “I love you.”
Then she was gone.
I, on the other hand, was finding it hard to breathe.
I love you.
Holy shit.
She’d never once said that to me. Not when I’d just made love to her. Not when I held her in my arms and pressed my lips against her head. Not when we were saying goodbye.
Never.
Then bam.
The words hit me like a sledgehammer, and it took me a few long seconds to get my head unscrambled.
I love you.
Stupidly, I’d been waiting to say those same words to her, unsure if they’d be welcome at this point.
Now that she’d said them, I felt like an asshole for not telling her before now.
As I rode to Brady’s place, I realized that I needed to apologize again. She wouldn’t think that I needed to, but I did. I’d been holding myself back, even now, because I was too worried that she’d throw the words back in my face.